These are the smuttiest, dirtiest, ugliest most beautiful, wonderful, special kind of nights you will ever have as a ROCKSTAR.
I've had one or two...hundred...and they've come in all different shapes and sizes...
Mostly XL and XXL...
One of my more memorable ones took place in Las Vegas...
Before I begin this story, a little later in it I make an example of someone and want to lay down the foundation for that now.
Now I don't want to call this hoochie a Gold Digger but man was this hoochie a Gold Digger. She was with us a week before this specific evening unfolded and up until this point she had never gone into her purse once to chip in for anything.
Not a meal, not a round of drinks, not a lap dance, not nothing.
She just let our group pay for her the entire trip thus far, which just didn't sit right with me.
Anyway...
I'm in Vegas with My Sister, Betsy BossLady, Jimmy Plant, a couple married chicks, a pregnant chick and The Girl Who Hasn't Paid For **** All Week.
We have a bunch of rooms set up for us through My Sister's Boss, which are located at the MGM GRAND.
Jimmy Plant and I wake up hung-over and start the day off right by ordering a healthy breakfast via room service.
"Hi can I get two plates of chicken fingers please...no...no fries...just the chicken please, thanks."
Delicious.
As we wait for our battered foul, we snap a few shaky face photos and laugh ourselves into hysteria from the shear comedy of the results. After we eat, we clean ourselves up, head outside and walk the main ***** making sure to stop at every hotel in search of randoms that might be hanging out in the various lobbies.
In between two hotels we come across a stairwell that leads off the main street to an underground bar. We buy a couple extra large Heinekens then head back up to the surface again.
I felt like a ninja turtle.
Cowabunga.
We pass by Harley Davidson's restaurant and I pull Jimmy Plant onto the patio, so we can grab some chicken fingers for lunch.
Delicious.
We polish off a few more beers and before we devour our breaded poultry, we start onto some Vodka. It's gorgeous outside and we have no real
motive to move anywhere other than there being no ***** on the patio...
However, there is an excess of fat, old, bearded men with gunts.
We settle up, grab a few more Heinekens for the walk and head back out onto the *****. I think, "Everywhere in North America should be like Vegas.
Things just make sense out here."
As we saunter past another patio and strike up a conversation with a rather good-looking girl...
For someone who looks so weathered...
I ask the weathered broad to recommend a few decent bars for us to hit that won't be packed with tourist and for an ex-junkie, she's rather informative.
She takes a picture of Jimmy Plant and I and leaves her number with me just before her boyfriend comes back from the bathroom.
He also looks fairly eroded.
I think,"Everyone around her is so haggard...I'm glad everywhere in North America isn't like Vegas."
We continue on foot to some bar called Diablo's. Inside they have a giant wheel with drink specials written on it and every hour they get some drunken whour to give it a spin to decide what will be available for the next 60 minutes...
And God bless the tiny little thing that went to spin the wheel the moment Jimmy Plant and I stroll in.
TEQUILLA!
I order two chocolate milks and tell the bartender too hold the chocolate and substitute the milk with PatrΓ³n then high five Jimmy Plant.
The bartender looks at us like we're losers.
I look at the bartender like he should be fixing us our drinks.
We suck back a few Vodkas; each one accompanied by a Tequila shot and I start to catch a buzz.Diablo's gets a little boring so we start towards the
pool area of The MGM where the girls are sunbathing. On the way we run into two ******* dressed as Indiana Jones, who ask us if we want to be
interviewed for the new movie that is coming out, called "The Crystal Skull."
Cool.
The interviewer asks us a bunch of questions about Indiana Jones and I answer everything as if they've asked me about STARWARS.
If you can't see the humor than you're daft.
The interviewer is smoking hot.
I think I was rubbing my **** throughout the entire interview but I can't be sure.
If I wasn't, I should have been.
We finish the interview by humming "The Imperial March" and when the cameras stop rolling, I strike up a conversation with The Interviewer.
I ask her what her name is and she tells me "it's Angel."
"Of course it is"
I ask "Angel" where she's going to be partying later and she says that her and the film crew are going to a bar called Dueling Pianos inside New York, New York.
I make a mental note of this.
Jimmy Plant and I travel back to The MGM and hang poolside without too much conversation. Four disgustingly attractive hot broads walk by and turn me down before I even have the chance to ask "how much?" I drink a couple cucumber based Vodka drinks and then everyone heads back to their
respective rooms to get ready to go out for the night.
I'm pretty drunk already and I'm not sure why this is but when you're already drunk and getting ready to go out, it seems to be okay to show your buddy your balls, so when I get out of the shower, I towel off, step out into the room and yell at Jimmy Plant "hey look" and then show him my sac.
He high fives me...
We hit The MGM casino.
Jimmy Plant and I have a rule never to play slots but if either of us is ever caught looking at slot machine, then we have to pump some scratch into it.I walk by one machine, grab Jimmy Plant and say, "watch this ****"then plunge a buck into it and kick the lever on the side...
Cherry.
Cherry.
Cherry.