To summarize the girl situation, I just gchatted this to a friend. I am so clever. We failed in that. We did not just meet a hooker, we met a hooker and a hooker's apprentice. THAT's your reality show Nom. "Hooker's Apprentice, coming to HBO this fall." Also I got notified of my sloppy blackjack phrasing. $10 buy in. We went to the table with $40. I put down that $10, put my $30 in another pile, and any winnings in a third untouchable pile. I won $50 dollars after betting those same $10 over and over. It wasn't one hand or anything.
That couldn't have been easy to do what with the female dealer repeatedly telling how you were the first player EVER to win at her table.
I'm 50% sure she said that. This was the Thursday night crew from Asia. First we had "Tina" then "Mei Ling" who actually hooked my friend up. Some crazy shit happened. After taking 3 of us for our money, our fourth friend Ari was down $60 dollars, got fed up and put down $100. She dropped him a king, came back around and said "I'm going to deal you and ace." Then she did. It was nuts.
Well, it's easy to regret nothing when, from all appearances so far, nothing happened to begin with...
Did you not hear the story about the crazy gambler friend who was down 60 dollars but then left UP 40 dollars??
That's Brett Maverick shit right there. I'm surprised they didn't threaten to take a circular saw to his hands, what with all the card counting that must have been going on. At my friend's bachelor party in The Falls, we caught one of our buddies cashing out twenty big bad dollars from a slot machine. My friend El Nino was quick to inform the entire casino floor about this jackpot with his booming voice "CLEAR A PATH TO THE CASHIER FOLKS, BIG SHOOTER HERE JUST WON TWENTY BIG ONES!!!!! COMP THIS MAN A FREE ROOM AND A MOTHAFUCKIN' EXTRA LARGE POUTINE!!!!"
Out of curiosity, why are we hating on Parker's free trip to Vegas? I wouldn't mind a free trip anywhere really. Plus it's not like he is bragging about bringing a veteran street walker to multiple orgasms. He was happy and wanted to share his ride on a sweet ass private jet. Personally I'm glad you had a good time Park. So in summation what I am trying to say is The Big Bang Theory kicks ass, and you meanie heads need to shut up about it.
Everybody always expect something crazy to happen in Vegas and when nothing huge of note happens it lets people down, like the ending to the Matrix trilogy. You're SUPPOSED to do something really fucked up there. Punch a cop in the face. Bang somebody against the glass of your hotel window that faces the pool. Kill everyone with a flamethrower at Hardrock Rehab (and do the world a favour) or maybe have a miscarriage in a liquor store or something else that's awesome.
That's for the second trip. I couldn't do anything out of hand on someone else's dime. If something happened and I actually had to pay for shit, that'd be fucking tragic. Trust me people, I WANTED something to happen, but shit just didn't materialize. I sure as fuck wasn't pay for sex, and I wasn't going to let chicks freeload off shit then disappear, which they are wont to do. I might be going back for Halloween. If shit doesn't happen then, I might jump off the Stratosphere.
I haven't been there in almost 17 years and I believe you, so tell me: WHO are these people that seem to go back six, seven times or more? Same party routine, same hotel, same thing. You would think it would get tired after the first three or four times with how much cash you drop there, but some keep going back like it's perpetual spring break. Even most people age out of spring break once their early/mid-20's start creeping up. There are few places I could keep going back to again and again. Cuba is one, but mostly as an R&R spot. Amsterdam or Calgary I could live in and never leave, and I loved Chicago (though have only been once).
Oh, who indeed? GIS for "douchebag" yields disturbing results. These men are cunts. They look like bimbos, they smell like a whore's delousing powder, and I hope everything bad in the world happens to them. But it won't. They invariably lived charmed, stupefied lives. Everything wrong with modern masculinity and the club scene right there, in the above photos. I can live with their mouths, the perpetual chest thumping overcompensation, the miasma of sickening $3.99 cologne, lurid stares and hollers at anything with breasts, but for fuck's sake stay out of my bars. You know what? I'll take my chances with the bronies.