Vegas, Well Done

People ask us all the time here at Broham, “What’s it like to be you guys?” Well in a quick sentence, like being on top of the world. We aren’t assholes, but we know how to have a good time. Since we know our readers like to have just as much fun, enjoying everything life throws at them (or the mess they get themselves into), we’re giving you a “to do” list to prove just how badass you are. Think of it as a bucket list for each time you go out. We give you a story, you up the ante. We want to hear what debauchery you can get into.

Over the next several weeks we’ll be telling you stories of our grizzled past. No matter if it’s a trip to Vegas, a weekend getaway with your entourage, or simply a night out in the city, you’ll hear firsthand how to do it right.

This week let us indulge you in our first trip to Vegas.

Opening Credits: As with most Vegas stories, it starts with a group of four amigos planning a trip together to see what Vegas has to offer. If you knew any one of us, you’d know this was a bad idea. Yet, just like you all know, if that’s the first thing people think of, then it’s going to be a good time.

The Lowdown: After three nights of blacking-out, yelling inappropriate things, and losing almost every penny we had, we decided to try one of the different night clubs the strip had to offer. The night gets hazy from there, but we were able to piece it together.

Sometime late: One of my other buddies and I split from the other two broners and head back to our hotel to play some more Black Jack and see where the night takes us. We’d been sports betting all week, never getting a win. Regardless, with this in my mind, a step into the casino, I yell, “I just won twenty-five hundred dollars because the fuckin’ Indians scored more than four runs!” Within seconds of my bullshit, four girls flock to my arm. I’m not going to feed you fuckin’ lies, so the truth is three were hot, and one was what people might call trashy-hot (a decent face and body, and if you were losing your virginity in high school, she’d be a good bone to mark off your list.)

They ask me if I was serious about winning, and I convince them to come to my room if they want to find out. It’s at this point that I realize what’s going on. I’m in a full-blown lie with four prosty’s who are expecting my ass to make it rain in my hotel room. They escort me up to my room, with my hands clenching the little cash I have left in my pocket. Needless to say we got up there, they throw me on the bed, head to the bathroom, and all come out naked.

Slag #1: “What do you want us to do?”

Me: “Umm… who honestly fucking cares?’

Slag #1: “Come on. You’ve got four sexy girls here who will fuck your brains out.”

Me (Thinking): Well three, but…

Slag #2: “How much would you pay to have sex with all four of us?”

Me: “Well I’ve never really had to pay for boning before… so probably nothing.”

Slag #1: “You just won twenty-five hundred bucks, you’ve got the money honey.”

Me: “Yeah, but no offense, I’m taking that shit home with me. Out of courtesy, I’ll give you twenty bucks each to blow me.”

Pissed off, Slags #2 and #3 bolt out of the room. For me it’s a wash, because I get two of the girls out, but am left with bitchy Slag #1 and the quiet trashball slag… fuck!

As the two girls get dressed and head out, the dude I was sharing my room with bolts in and pulls the lame-ass,” Oh hey dude, didn’t know you were in here,” with a smirk on his face bigger than a kid in a candy store. P.S., he followed us up there, texting and calling a bunch of our friends to let them know I was going back to our room with four hookers.

Slag #1: “Well if you won’t pay, how much will your friend pay for us to have sex with him?”

Dickhead: “Ha, I’m not paying you anything to screw. How about I give you fifteen each to suck me off?”

Obviously offended, the two girls head out pissed off as hell.

After a couple minutes of joking around about shit, my buddy and I start that drunk freak-out. We’re actually worried these girls are downstairs getting their pimp (as if they actually have one) to come beat our ass for standing them up. We no joke throw on different shirts and I wear a hat. Shows how pussy we are.

New digs on, we head back down to the casino to mingle with more chicks, drink a little more and just see where the night takes us.

We post in a back bar of the casino and start chatting it up with a bunch of different people. There’s a nerdy looking dude with a Ghostbusters shirt on. A blonde girl with giant fake boobs. And another girl in a short skirt, with small, perky tits, and just enough intrigue to garner attention from me.

As my buddy tries his hand at the blond girl with the monster dags, I talk to Slimer guy and other girl. Telling them a bunch of lies, including that I’m the nephew of George Clooney and am actually a childhood actor, and that I’m from L.A., just out here for a quick weekend trip. She shoots back with similar questionable stories, making me even more interested how far she’ll push it. I know I have no limit or filter, so I hope she can keep up. I fire something perverted at her, she answers with a show of her crotch under the table. Finally, trying to out do her lies, I tell her I’m going to snort coke off her ass in my room. She eats it up, telling me she has some good shit.  Even though I know I’m not doing that shit, I give her to okay since I want to get laid. My buddy struck out with big-boobed blond girl, so the three of us head up.

Bullshitting around, we take some shots, and she tells us she’s actually a stripper. As I was reminded by my buddy before writing this, she proceeds to strip in front of us, doing lines of coke off the table in our room. With a mini pile of blow in front of us, she’s snorting lines like it’s her job. She starts getting all emotional on our ass, telling us about her brother in the army, and how we were so lucky to be good friends and shit. We’re just sitting there being assholes trying to get her to shut the fuck up so we can bone her. We’re drunk and tired enough now that we just want to get it over with.

Getting to the point, we both end up getting head from her. I, of course, disgustingly fuck her as my buddy passes out. Not one of my prouder moments. She’s running around naked, still talking about god knows what. The night’s gone from a 4 a.m. shitshow, to a 7:30 all-nighter. I find myself doze off for about three minutes.

As I woke from my short slumber, I notice her writing a note thanking us for a great night. For whatever reason she wasn’t so reluctant to leave. Since I’m groggy as hell, I don’t even think anything of it. I get out of bed, walk her out, she hands me the note, and I crash on my bed.

Next thing I know, the phone rings. My buddy answers. It’s the front desk, telling us we’re two hours late for checkout. Fuck, it’s 12:30! Still drunk, we throw our scattered shit into our suitcases to get the hell out of our room.

Packing shit up, we notice a couple things missing. Remember those short 180 seconds where my buddy and I were passed out? Well that dumbass stripper managed to pocket my iPod, $80 worth of my buddy’s cash, and any dignity either one of us had left.

We even missed breakfast and saying bye to our other friends, who had an earlier flight. We check out, grab some Wendy’s (since it’s all we can afford), and seriously talk about how we’re convinced we have an STD. Most depressing lunch ever.

The rest of the day is wasted pissed off that I have to spend the four-in-a-half hour flight with no entertainment and hungover.

Moral of the story, if you go to Vegas, meet as many girls as possible. But if you ever cross prostitutes or a stripper named Sara Gonzales, don’t be yourself, or it will definitely burn you in the end.

One love y’all…

Big Booty