the true-untold vegas story: part deux

… (con­tin­ued from the true-untold vegas sto­ry)…

Sun­day, 3/9 midnight.ish
…when hiphop played…the room broke out all into the dance floor. like bees and the scent of hon­ey; or… like 161 hearth­stone drool­ing over the site of shaki­ra on mtv—shaking that ass like glass, all smooth and movin like a field of grass…woooord up!

but back to the sto­ry… so every­one start­ed head­ing on to the dance floor and got jig­gy with it. then, being a group with 2:1 guy to girl ratio… jovan, j.Flo, and puvic went to gala­vant. what they saw…were a cou­ple of girls…w/ their mom haha.

it was just funny…freakin’ puvic (or was it jeff, err…was it both haha) try­ing to get shib­by with the mom lol. its one of those things that you just try to think and say qui­et­ly to your­self, but end up say­ing some­thing like…“WTF?!” too loud. anoth­er thing to com­pare the moment to, is when you see a hot girl that you have to do that double-take…and say…“DAAAAAAMN!” but this isn’t exact­ly that, its the direct oppo­site x10. you just straight say, “EWWWWW!” haha.

it’s all good though, good times. the fun­ni­est pic that i think rep­re­sent­ed the whole night of fun is the one, i would call, “ooglie mooglie per puvic.” i guess it was one of those sit­u­a­tions when the light was dim, and con­sump­tion of alco­hol was too high—well, very very high for puvic in this instance =).

ooglie mooglie per puvic

…but it’s all good, i ain’t try­ing to hate—cause that brotha has a lot of balls that i know most peo­ple wished they had. remem­ber that say­ing, “don’t hate the playa, hate the game”…well for puvic it’s about the same, it’s “don’t hate puvic, hate the game”—he is in his own class.

Sun­day, 3/9 4am.ish
so the club dies down, and we get out of there around 4am-ish. we decid­ed to get some ear­ly morn­ing grub from the orleans casi­no. why eat at four in the morn­ing? you ask… because it’s vegas, and food is hel­la cheap; and when i say “cheap”—cheap like $1.99 for t‑bone steak and egg meal.

it’s one of their grave­yard break­fast spe­cial­ty i guess. but order­ing the steak and eggs was too much for me to grub down since i want­ed to knock out after we get back. so i picked the two eggs, two sausages, and hash­brown meal for $0.99. i swear, i was expect­ing crap­py food for that price…but to my sur­prise, it was pret­ty fill­in’ and good. this is prob­a­bly our new hang­out spot after club­bing in vegas.

Sun­day, 3/9 6.30am.ish
mean­while, get­ting back from eat­ing breakfast…we saw the sun come up around 6:30am as we were park­ing back at aladdin. we just knocked out after that. wak­ing up around 10am because of check­out, we start­ed view­ing the pics that every­one took and stuff while we wait­ed for every­one to get ready. glanc­ing at the room, we noticed that ceci­ly, jon, joe­ma­ma, and jevon are not back yet from chee­tah’s?! lat­er on we found out that they have crashed at chris and jay’s room at impe­r­i­al palace; and that they did­n’t fin­ish their gala­vant­i­ng till 9am haha—sooooorry big bucks.

Sun­day, 3/9 noon.ish
being hun­gry and all, we all (twen­ty or so of us) left to meet up at main st. casi­no one of their hawai­ian restau­rants; which served one of the best teriya­ki chick­en bowls in LV. mmm mmm good! i would have to say it was bet­ter than L&L or the loft; the por­tions were much big­ger but for the same price. so after our lunch, we all parted—some left around 1pm, anoth­er left at 1:30pm, and most of us at 2pm.

Sun­day, 3/9 2.30pm.ish
i drove jevon’s car back to OC since that foo was real­ly real­ly tired and pret­ty much, just looked and felt like crap—i guess it was just too much t&a up on his face haha =p. it was jevon, joe­ma­ma, mike d. and i in ultra-nice accord =). we got a call from mike a. around 2:30pm about three big acci­dents near bak­er, one of the major ones that cause the oth­er was the one involv­ing two tour bus­es. it involved more than a hun­dred being seri­ous­ly injured. it pret­ty much halt­ed the inter­state-15 south for 20 miles, and for a peri­od of about five-sev­en hours. i would have to say, expe­ri­enc­ing that acci­dent first-hand…any traf­fic (whether it be bay area/LA) is noth­ing com­pared to it. also, that was the longest vegas dri­ve home i’ve eeeeev­er been in. the bot­tom line how­ev­er, there was no fatality—which is real­ly real­ly good con­cern­ing that it was two big, tour bus­es. here’s some pics around 5pm-ish…this is ten miles away from bak­er where the acci­dent was some­what locat­ed…

for three or so hours, we were on a com­plete halt. every­one just got out of their vehi­cles and con­versed with the cars next to them. but for us, we were on a mis­sion. a mis­sion that was orches­trat­ed by jevon/joemama; to find hot girls in biki­nis haha. so we were pret­ty much bored, i guess the high­light of the three hours we were in the mid­dle of no where…was our trek to find a spot to pee at. just imag­ine, all those peo­ple out in the desert try­ing to claim their ter­ri­to­ry. good times.

Sun­day, 3/9 9.30pm.ish
after clear­ing the traffic/accident site around 9:30pm-ish…we stopped over at burg­er king at east main st. in barstow; and jevon drove the rest of the way back. i don’t want to ruin his adven­ture, so just read it for your­self at his blog entry “15 min­utes of sleep”.

all-in-all my friends, it does­n’t mat­ter where you go in life as long as you have peo­ple you have fun with, and care for along for the ride. it does­n’t mat­ter if it’s like a roller coast­er ride, because you’re not the only one rid­ing it; nor the only one expe­ri­enc­ing the thrills of the loops, and sharp turns the it gives us. ahhh life…it’s so full of sur­pris­es, one thing we can do to get through it is laugh along with our fam­i­ly and friends…and get lap dances till 9am at club chee­tah’s!!!

from my mind to yours, fly to vegas!

4 Comments

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  1. juan

    damn right fly to vegas. and nice lit­tle pic­ture gallery, that pic of vic danc­ing brings back good mem­o­ries… tell you what though, i wish i had a pic­ture of Tori from Sat­ur­day night, err Sun­day morn­ing.