After having slept about 3 and a half hours the night before, Joe's alarm goes off unexpectedly on Saturday morning. He finds a CD with "Play Me, Asshole" on the label. He puts the CD into his player to hear the Mission: Impossible theme with the following message:
"Good morning, Agent Welsh. I trust your sleep was restful. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to continue your bachelor weekend. What - you thought it was over? Some bowling, cheap Chinese food and fake tits? You knew your best man had a little more in store than that.
Meet your agent out in the car in the driveway and await instructions. Be warned - this agent is VERY handsome. Try to avert your eyes as to not be blinded by his shining handsomeness.
This message will self-destruct in 5... 4... 3... okay, it's not going to self-destruct. Just get your ass out to the car, dick."
Joe stumbles out to the car to find yours truly. I start up and drive. He has no idea where we're going. For the ride, I created a CD with a few musical clues - including "Viva Las Vegas" by Elvis. Joe heard that song and said, "Awesome! We're going to Foxwoods." But when we turned off the highway to head to the airport, he finally figured it out:
That's right, my friend - we're going to Vegas.
Like any trip to Vegas, it was too much of a whirlwind to really describe, but here are a few (edited) highlights:
- Joe's boy Glen played blackjack with William Hung. You'd think there'd be more to the story than that, but there just isn't.
- When we were playing blackjack, we renamed the chips according to their colors. The green $25 chips were "kerms," the red $5 were "apples" or "fire engines" and the $1 blues were "dolphins." We forced the dealers and all the other people at the table adopt our lingo. Oh, and in case you were wondering, the popular $6 bet was a "hot dolphin." Figure it out.
- At the worst breakfast in the history of eating, our friend David ordered prune juice, just to throw off the wait staff. Then, he pulled our waiter aside and conspiratorially asked, "Is this prune juice bottomless?" The waiter was nonplussed.
- Although we weren't imbibing in any substances, the effects of sleep deprivation were seriously fucking with us. Around 6am we started making "joke bets" - throwing hundreds of dollars away on stupid, unwinnable bets - David doubled down on a 21 ("I choose to look at it as an 11"), stayed on 7 and split kings. We wasted hundreds of dollars and we thought it was hilarious.
- At one point, just as the sun had come up on old Vegas, I stepped away from the table and went outside for some air. I stood in the middle of the street and just started giggling. Uncontrollably. I couldn't stop. People were staring. I was doubled over in a giggle fit. I thought to myself "This is what insanity must feel like."
I know, I know - reading other people's Vegas stories is boring. It's the classic, untranslatable "Trust me - it was really funny"-type situation. But it was a great weekend - Joe was the big winner, turning 3 kerms of my money into about 15 kerms of his money.
I'm off tomorrow to fulfill my best man duties. Next week, I'll be sure to fill you in on the details of the blessed event and whether I seriously gay out during my toast. The smart bet is yes - I'd put at least 4 kerms on it.
"Good morning, Agent Welsh. I trust your sleep was restful. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to continue your bachelor weekend. What - you thought it was over? Some bowling, cheap Chinese food and fake tits? You knew your best man had a little more in store than that.
Meet your agent out in the car in the driveway and await instructions. Be warned - this agent is VERY handsome. Try to avert your eyes as to not be blinded by his shining handsomeness.
This message will self-destruct in 5... 4... 3... okay, it's not going to self-destruct. Just get your ass out to the car, dick."
Joe stumbles out to the car to find yours truly. I start up and drive. He has no idea where we're going. For the ride, I created a CD with a few musical clues - including "Viva Las Vegas" by Elvis. Joe heard that song and said, "Awesome! We're going to Foxwoods." But when we turned off the highway to head to the airport, he finally figured it out:
That's right, my friend - we're going to Vegas.
Like any trip to Vegas, it was too much of a whirlwind to really describe, but here are a few (edited) highlights:
- Joe's boy Glen played blackjack with William Hung. You'd think there'd be more to the story than that, but there just isn't.
- When we were playing blackjack, we renamed the chips according to their colors. The green $25 chips were "kerms," the red $5 were "apples" or "fire engines" and the $1 blues were "dolphins." We forced the dealers and all the other people at the table adopt our lingo. Oh, and in case you were wondering, the popular $6 bet was a "hot dolphin." Figure it out.
- At the worst breakfast in the history of eating, our friend David ordered prune juice, just to throw off the wait staff. Then, he pulled our waiter aside and conspiratorially asked, "Is this prune juice bottomless?" The waiter was nonplussed.
- Although we weren't imbibing in any substances, the effects of sleep deprivation were seriously fucking with us. Around 6am we started making "joke bets" - throwing hundreds of dollars away on stupid, unwinnable bets - David doubled down on a 21 ("I choose to look at it as an 11"), stayed on 7 and split kings. We wasted hundreds of dollars and we thought it was hilarious.
- At one point, just as the sun had come up on old Vegas, I stepped away from the table and went outside for some air. I stood in the middle of the street and just started giggling. Uncontrollably. I couldn't stop. People were staring. I was doubled over in a giggle fit. I thought to myself "This is what insanity must feel like."
I know, I know - reading other people's Vegas stories is boring. It's the classic, untranslatable "Trust me - it was really funny"-type situation. But it was a great weekend - Joe was the big winner, turning 3 kerms of my money into about 15 kerms of his money.
I'm off tomorrow to fulfill my best man duties. Next week, I'll be sure to fill you in on the details of the blessed event and whether I seriously gay out during my toast. The smart bet is yes - I'd put at least 4 kerms on it.
6 Comments:
your giggling fit sounds like something only i would do.
and i want to hear the rest of the william hung story, there MUST be more.
No, there really isn't. William Hung was sitting there, playing blackjack. Glen was sitting next to him. Hung didn't really say much.
When he got up, the hottest girl in the history of hot girls sat down next to Glen. We were much more excited about that than some pseudo-celebrity. Lesson learned: boobs trump everything.
It wasn't Lisa Ballou was it? I remember hearing one time that she needed the money...
No, it wasn't.
But God, do I love the inside high school jokes.
HA HA, good one Hogg. I don't care what Brendo says, that's still funny.
If I remember correctly, the 21 Dave doubled down on started on the split kings. so it was a double stupid bet. I think he got a 19 and a 20. It was at this point, I believe, that I called him a douche.
Also: Joe's $150 "sextakerm," AKA the most idiot bet I've ever seen.
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