The Bachelor Party

Well, here we go. Let's start by stating that the names of parties involved have been changed to protect the innocent. This is who showed up: Deadbeat (DB), HotRod (HR), MeanDrunk (MD), GothBoy (GB), FastFood (FF), and Eric Baker, who currently resides in Bend, Oregon. (contact me for more information)

Well, me, DB and Eric packed all of my useless shit into a fucking huge 24ft moving truck, and rolled down to Sac-Town. The trip was rather uneventful, except for the fucking weigh station. Out of all the trucks that move down the I-5 corridor, they thought that my fucking truck looked like it needed inspecting. Thankfully, they didn't look inside the cargo-hold, since I usually travel with 50 kilos or more of heroin. Instead, they wasted a half-hour of my time checking the brakes and all that shit on the moving truck. It was a little creepy being in such close proximity to a Cop, and having nothing to fear. I'm so used to being a fucking suspect, hoping they don't have any deep-ridden desires to finger my butt.

Let's just skip forward to Reno, NV, where the night truly began. (I'll skip the part about Eric Baker, of Bend, Oregon being a bitch about unloading the truck) We arrive in Reno at a time which I cannot remember. I do recall DB being so fucking adament about purchasing new shoes. After a 30 minute detour on our set course, we finally found a PayLess. Well, DB cannot find a pair of shoes to fit his fucking snow-shoes-for-feet that he likes. He finally settles on a pair of black clogs that are "too square" for his feet. Listen, if you can ski downhill on a mountain without a set of K2's, then you're probably not going to find a shoe on a whim that fits your desire. But I got a pair of shoes for hella cheap, cuz I'm a normal man.

So we roll over to Circus Circus (cuz saying it one time isn't enough; fucking Pizza, Pizza). The room was waaay more than we were originally quoted, so we bounce. Who wants to stay at the fucking county fair on their bachelor party anyway? Fucking clowns.

We procure our room at the Silver Legacy, 30 bucks cheaper, and a hella nice room. Finally, HR shows up, and we hit a buffet, to lessen our drunken pains to follow. Only, we missed the fucking BILLBOARD saying that this was s0me special "International Night", which jacked the price up significantly. Eric Baker, of Bend, Oregon, was a little strapped for cash, but he manned up, and paid the fare.

After bitching constantly that I needed to get drunk (which entails much more than the watered-down free cocktails) the night becomes a blur. Though I remember the entire night, I'd rather just give you fools some highlights:


-DB was asked, while pissing, if "I can see it" (referring to his penis, I assume)

-Eric got broker, so I gimped him along, on my feeble winnings (fucker made bank when I passed out)

-My nipples were literally rubbed raw by the damn shirt I bought. I had to find a fucking mini-market that sold band-aids (which is remarkably hard) to cure the problem. Then some whore was yabbering on about how she'd never heard a male talk about his nipples as much as I do. Bitch, at least my dick is worth more than your nightly charge, which we all heard, by the way.

-I recall screaming the Jack Black yell in, "Saving Silverman" (comin' at ya yiiiiiiii-haaaaaah) at least 20 times.

Then came the obligatory strip club visit. On the way there, I appearantly pissed out the Sacramento River on some poor business (that part was omitted from my memory) . Anyways, the night started to get pretty foggy. GB and all my men purchased a 'special dance' for me. It entailed me crawling my fat, drunk-as-shit ass onto the runway for a treat. They brought out a chair, and had me sit in it, making sure that my hands were behind my back. (as opposed to on their tits, I imagine) Brothers, Fantasy Girls is not for kids. Two girls came on stage and fucked my brains out. I don't mean that I had intercourse with them, but they humped the shit out of my skull. I was in pain nearly the entire dance. They kept doing trapese shit and banging my head into the dance pole behind my head. Fucking masochists.


To be continued....