How to live in Vegas on only $400 a day

Me and the bachelor Josh Grigonis. Sobriety was not on the menu that night. Why can't I ever smile straight?

Shots of Patron.

Last night was the precursor to the fuckedupness that tonight will be. For those who don't visit my Facebook, subscribe to my Twitter feed, or read this site, I'm in Las Vegas for my friend Josh's bachelor party. We went to Club Diablo last night. Josh, the bachelor, was wearing a cape. Watching Josh dance with chicks (and at some points by himself) while wearing a cape was classic. Josh is a successful software engineer, although he's taken on the appearance of the Dude from "Big Lebowski." Obviously, the Dude abides.

I'm drunk. I don't think this is making sense. I'm out.

goochout, that is.

Ohhh.... Too Soon?

Like all of you, I've been personally devastated by the loss of Natasha Richardson. I mean, before she fell during that ill fated skiing lesson, I'd never heard of her. Since her death, I've been forced to deal with a moral dilemma.

How long after a woman dies is it okay to jerk off to her? I mean... she just died. If I'd been jerking off to her regularly prior to her death, then I think I'd be grandfathered in and I could just tug away. Since she's a new addition to my arsenal, however, I think I'll wait two weeks. It's a good length of time. I'm sure Liam Neeson will have started dating by then and I won't have to feel as guilty. There, the rule is set: Two Weeks Waiting Period After a Chick Dies. Mark your calendars.

******

I'm in Vegas right now. My friend Mike Henry and I are sharing a room with one bed and mirrors on the ceiling. Waking up to a mirrored image of Mike and I hung over in bed together could be the gayest experience of my life. Not that I've had a lot of gay experiences, but if I ever do have one... this will probably trump it.

******

"Do you remember me?" I was working in a closed office; one employee was in doing administrative work while I installed antivirus software on all of the office computers. She continued:

"We were at a party and someone took a picture of my chest and you snorted jello shots off of the picture."

Who the fuck am I to be snorting jello shots all of the time? How drunk am I at these parties? I only remember doing it one time and I've posted the pictures. Where's my career going that someone I don't remember tells me shit like that while I'm working? She told me she reads this site, so big shout out to Juggs McChesterton (I think that's her name). I'm more a fan of yours than you could ever be of me.

*****

Gotta go... have a big day of drinking, laying by a pool, and eye-fucking slutty tourists. I shouldn't be in a room typing this nonsense.

Out.

T Minus 0

I hop on a plane for Vegas tonight. A bunch of high school buddies flying in from all over the country to decend on the opulent gambling town. I'm waiting for clothes to dry and I'm off to do a whirlwind tour of computer fixing/money making in Portland, then off to hemmorhage aforementioned earnings in about four spins at roulette. I could save some time and write a company check to a hooker then jam an icepick into my crotch, but where would I get the comraderie of my high school freinds (about three of which I actually trust)?

I had my first drink in ten days last night. Half of the proceeds went to a local high school. That was all the justification I needed to get a buzz on. The remainder of my drinking this weekend will be purely for selfish reasons. My charitable drinking days are over.

I gotta get to work. There are lives at stake. Did you say "steak?" What? Prime Rib? I love it with horseradish and au jus. A Jew? I'll eat it with anyone. Exactly. Look at the big ass at the top of the post. This big ass is out the door.

goochout.

Vegas, baby, Vegas.

I've decided at the last minute to fly to Las Vegas to meet up with some high school/Miami buddies for my friend Josh's bachelor party.

I almost bowed out of the endeavor, being that I'd just missed a week of work due to illness, that I was recovering from pneumonia, and that I'm a complete pussy.

So my flight's booked. I need to find someone to take me to the airport. I don't know where I'm staying once I get to LV, but I often don't know where I'll be sleeping once I get to any Nevada destination. I haven't had a drink in 10 days. I haven't eaten much, either. I'm healthier than I've been in a long time, in time to go to Vegas to fuck it all up. To cap it off, I have a Monday morning physical scheduled.

"Mr. Gallucci, your triglycerides are high, your cholesterol is off the charts, and your blood alcohol content is high enough that you'll have to take a cab home from the clinic."

Aw yeah.

But it'll be good to hang out with the guys. Everyone's moved away or got married. Seldom is there the opportunity to hang out anymore. Casually stopping by a friend's house to watch TV or grab a beer has given way to planned, structured events. "Adult play dates." I haven't succumbed to the whole "family" thing. I have a cat and a mortgage; it's all the responsibility I can handle. I'm sure I'm missing out on some joys of family life. I can't think of what those joys could be, but I'm sure I'm missing out nonetheless.

I'm out.

Is this thing still on?

Sorry for the lack of updates. I've been working, eating, and sleeping in my bid to just get over this pneumonia stuff. This means that I haven't done anything exciting with which to fill your little heads full of awe and wonder. No blah blah blah xanax blah blah blah stripper blah blah blah dating a nice girl - see how this works out blah blah blah nice girl: fail blah blah blah pirating music and videos sticking it to the man blah blah blah where's my pants?

Nope, I've just been a fine tuned machine trying to fix computers and hustle dollars. Probably going to Vegas this weekend. Could be dope.

I'm out. Not even a hot chick. I'll get back into my game. You'll be astonished. This spring and summer are going to be just absolutely stupid.

out