:: Electric Psychedelic Pussycat Swinger's Club ::

:: Friday, August 20, 2004 ::

...from Oakland to Sac-town, the bay area and back down, Cali is with it, put the mack down

Go West, young man.

It was great being back on the coast with the most, if even for just a week. The Wet Beaver Posse (San Diego Chapter) were all there to pick me up from the airport and we headed straight for dinner at my favourite restaurant, Bandar. The highlight was of course the flawlessly prepared boneless chicken kebobs, but the newly bought set of breastisses on the hostess came in a close second. After a good 30 minutes of ogling, we all agreed that the hostess's parents, the owners of the restaurant, had no shame in pimping out their twin daughters for the sake of entrepreneurship and it was further concluded they absolutely must've paid for her boob job to bring in even more business.

The family that augments together, stays together.

Vegas was next up. The city where hedonism and debauchery are openly advertised by its board of tourism provided us with another memorable trip. Some highlights included desert weasel stumbling into the hotel room at 7am, waving his fingers that smelled of sex underneath our sleeping noses while indulging us hungover-stricken with an amusing anecdote of how his fingers ended up smelling like an alcoholic halibut - not once, but both nights. I should also mention that I did alright at the poker tables at Harrah's.

Two nights, 3 comped meals, cocktails poolside and a night of excess Coronas followed by chasers of Red Bull & Vodka later, I felt Vegas had given me so much that my body decided it was time to give something back: about 2 gallons worth of vomit derived from 3 trips of prayer before the porcelain gods. Before checkout, my friends had to drag me to the car, but not before this breakfastless drunkard wolfed down a banana on the way out. Five minutes later while on the road, the air inside the car became infused with banana-flavoured puke, compliments of me. HOLLER! Fortunately, the dudes were wise enough to bring a few plastic bags just in case.

Vegas, baby. Vegas.

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