VEGAS 2006. WISH YOU WERE HERE, INDEED.

It's somewhat an often occurence that I think about quitting my one night a week gig DJing at the strip club. The extra time I spend working there in addition to my daily computer job sometimes doesn't seem worth the little extra money I bring in.

Then, a night happens where it's all worth while. Last night we had four hot girls. Feature dancer hot. Two of them were somehow smitten with me and one even gave me her phone numbers. I guess not showering or shaving and throwing on clothes that came directly from my Vegas suitcases that have yet to be unpacked somehow made me attractive to the dancers. Also, none of them bitched about the music and in fact complimented me on my DJing skills.

Okay, I'll stick around for a while.

I did date a "civilian" (someone not in the strip club industry) and it went really well. I might have mentioned this in an earlier blog. I hope to go out with her again and that she forgets that when I met her five months ago I told her that I worked in a strip club and that I dated a certain former bar manager from a certain east county bar.

Vegas? I've riddled my brain trying to explain the trip while maintaining Vegas Code of Silence. Here's the MySpace pages for the people that were down there with me. I'll leave it at that.

Nikki

Alicia

Kay (not there the same time I was)

Sandy

Stephani

Aunt Angie

Erin (a dude)

AOL Customer Service Caught On Tape: Will Not Let Man Cancel Account.

Back from Vegas. I have yet to have had the time to compose my thoughts but trust that I will do so and brain dump my experiences on this site. With pictures.

I bought tickets for one of my best friends and I to go see the Broadway show "Hairspray" as it came through Portland. I didn't realize until yesterday at noon that it was scheduled for last night. I thought it was coming in July. I scrambled for a date since my friend couldn't go and ended up having a nice time on a first date with a girl that genuinely seemed interested in me and doesn't pay her rent in $1 bills.

"You don't look like a computer person"

Sweet.

She was even cool when the BMW I was driving (my friend and I traded vehicles so that he could use my SUV to move to a new house) overheated and we had to pour water into the radiator at 1am.

Life is, indeed, an adventure.

More on Vegas. Promise.

goochout.

Hard Rock Cafe last night in Vegas. Crazy "stays in Vegas" shit.

waiting for an airport shuttle now. Hungry and tired and I look like I've, well, been in Vegas for eight god damned days.

Home sweet Troutdale.

goochout.

It's possible that I'm staying another night in Vegas. Eight days.

Happy birthday Eric Philps.

I've done good at blackjack, so I can almost justify the extra day.

See you on Sunday(?)

goochout.

at an internet kiosk using the last of my minutes.

goochout

Oh, my... God.

hung over. major. It's 8am and I got drunk early last night. A couple responses to some comments on the last blog:

QBall: You got a 'B' in Communications? One of our beloved strippers actually made fun of me because I had a degree in communications. Her stage name was "Rachel." I asked her if her real name was "Porsche."

Gregster: It took me eight years to get that degree in communication. I'd be pissed if you got yours in a year. Unfortunately, you probably could.

Woke up to "Saved By the Bell" reruns this morning. I'm impressed I got back to my room. I actually looked around to see if I was in my room.

Drunk Gooch had Nathan's Hot Dogs last night. I can taste it... Dammit, why can't I eat salads when I'm plastered?

People Magazine lists Hottest Bachelors. Thank God they spelled my name right this time.

Also, I've encountered more than one friend that has either found Jesus or quit drinking and has said to me (during the course of this trip) "Oh... you're probably drunk" or "Gee are you drunk?" or "I quit drinking [within the last week], but you're fucked up aren't you?"

Lick my fucking balls. I've spent five days in Vegas right at this point. That's like a month in real time and I'm still alive. "Vegas" is an old Mohican Indian word for "Bender." A lot of people don't know that. Last night was the first night I got shit faced and the worst thing I did was hit on a fat chick. Actually I hit on her hot friend, too. Actually I hit on them both at the same time. In front of each other. I guess that's a breach of etiquette. We ended up having drinks for a while but I was too inebriated to continue on with the evening.

Going back to bed. goochout.