Archive for the '-- Drunken Debauchery' Category

Vegas, Vegas, Vegas.

I arrive in Vegas by myself around 1 on a Thursday afternoon.  The rest of my group of 8 other guys doesn’t arrive until late Thursday evening.  However, NonBloodBro was also in town with a group of 8 guys and he got in around the same time as me.  I get together with them at their hotel (Harrahs) and started going at it hard from about 2 until 9.  Played the most blackjack of my trip during that period.  In a related story, that’s when I lost the biggest amount of money.  Then, I headed back to my hotel (The MGM Grand) to get together with my group.  LadyLegs was the first to arrive.  Here’s a picture of him dancing with two beautiful women.

The simplest way to explain him, is he might as well be my carbon copy when it comes to blacking out and boozing.  Needless to say, he was sober, so we went at it hard until the rest of them arrived around 11.  MiniMiz is the next to arrive (also known as, he stumbled up to us as he got rocked on the plane) and also on a mission like LadyLegs and myself.  So, the three of us sit down at a blackjack table.  We are of course flirting up the waitress (Lisa huge boobs/blacky) and tipping her well so she keeps coming back.  Unfortunately in Vegas you can only get one drink at a time.  Fortunately, Lisa was training someone this night.  The trainee didn’t know you could only get one drink per time.  We tricked her into bringing us rounds and rounds of shots and mixed drinks simultaneously.  We lose all track of time and money at this blackjack table as we are blacking out.  The next thing we know it’s around 2:00 in the morning and we want to go to a club of course.

Conveniantly, Studio 54 is in the MGM Grand so we didn’t have to walk far.  The rest of our group decides to be babies and don’t want to go to a club.  LadyLegs, MiniMiz and myself refuse to stoop to their level and go to the club anyway.  Studio 54 was my least favorite of the three clubs I went to in Vegas for reasons outside of the following story.  It was a small club that was made up of about 80% dance floor space, 10% V.I.P. booths, and 10% bar space.  Let’s just say that’s not my ideal set up.  But, I decided if Steve Stiffler can do it, anyone can.  We danced the entire 3+ hours we were at the club.  But, at one point when I’m migrating from dancing with one girl to finding the next one, I bump into this fat guy.  He stops me and says, “we can either fight about this or go take a shot together like men.”  Clearly, I’m not into the idea of getting my ass kicked, so I opted for the shot.  He tells me there’s this great drink I have to try called an O Bomb.  What a fucking pansy, it’s like a Jaegger bomb, but with Bacardi O instead.  We take the shot and go our seperate ways, my face still looking pretty.

By this point, MiniMiz and LadyLegs have found two Asian girls to dance with.  I’m intrigued and walk over to them.  LadyLegs tells me to take over dancing with her because he had his eyes on some Milf who had been sitting at our blackjack table earlier. I drunkenly oblige.  MiniMiz and I dance with these Asians for over an hour.  I forgot to mention, they weren’t hot.  But, the whole time our drunken asses are giving each other looks like ‘this is fucking awesome’ and ‘what the hell did we do, why are they so into us?’  Naturally, we leave the bar with these two Asians.  We sit down at some slot machines and continue to chat them up.

I think that’s the telling point of how drunk we were.  Never once in my life (and probably not MiniMiz’s) have I ever sat down at a slot machine in a casino.  They go to the bathroom and we’re breaking down the situation, we’re way too excited for our own good.  I’m telling MiniMiz that my girl would kiss me, but not make out with me (great in hindsight) because she’s a good girl and is playing the innocent card.  MiniMiz tells me he hasn’t even tried to kiss her yet.  So, the girls get back and while we are sitting at these slot machines I suggest in front of them that they should kiss.  MiniMiz and the Asian are both all about the idea and start eating each other’s faces in front of us.

MiniMiz is my obediant dog when he’s drunk, whenever I say something he does it.  Take a look at this article for another time he followed his owner’s advice.81

The next thing we know, we’ve started bringing these girl’s upstairs to our hotel room.  In the back of our minds we are thinking to ourselves, ‘are we really going to tag our first asians in the same room at the same time?’  As we are getting ready to go in the room, LadyLegs calls us up (he got seperated).  He says to MiniMiz, there’s something strange about this whole situation, I think they are hookers.  MiniMiz tells me this and I felt like a lightbulb went off in my head.  I was too blacked out to notice it myself, but now that it’s brought to my attention it’s absolutely true.  My favorite part of the whole night, was how MiniMiz then approached these girls.  And I awkwardly quote, “so, I’m kinda new to Vegas, are you guys prostitutes?”  Needless to say my asian immediately flew down the hall like a missile.  I was laughing so hard I decided to take a picture of them fleeing.  You can see her at the end of the hall in the picture.

MiniMiz’s kept on grabbing on to Miz like the money grubbing whore that she was before ultimately leaving.  We get into the room and we’re in hysterics.  We were moments away from having hookers in our room.  Where is the cut off line on something like this?  Do we have to pay after they enter the room, do you pay only if you do something, is it pay after MiniMiz’s premature nut?  Before we even start discussing I decide to make out with the soap bar.  Literally scrubbing my lips as if the bar of soap was sand paper.  MiniMiz agreed with my idea and used the same bar of soap (after me might I add) to clean not only his lips but his tongue.

After the clean down, we are discussing the events and it’s all coming full circle.  They lived in Vegas, but we had to go to our place, their place was supposedly too far away.  Yeah, right.  We both agreed that while we were dancing we now realize we kept seeing the same guys (their fucking pimps).  The next morning we are telling the rest of the group the story.  When I find out that LadyLegs had called MiniMiz multiple times throughout the night to warn him.  MiniMiz just didn’t want to believe it.  Fine you don’t have to believe him, but at least have the decency to inform my blacked out ass of that news.  I was sick for a good solid week after Vegas and I think it is because I was going to town on that bar of soap.  The rest of the night and ever since I haven’t been able to look at an asian the same way.  In my head I’ve convinced myself they are all hussy hookers.

Side Note 81: http://michaelmoller.com/wordpress/archives/124
-Resubmitting this article I find it sad that I didn’t know how to hyperlink at this point, a year plus into my blog.

Originally Appeared September 18, 2007.

7/11 Friday Night - Three of my friends from college came up for the weekend, ModelSister, Dibo and Cody (quite creative, I know).  That’s two years in a row for Dibo and ModelSister. Which would be one more year in a row PussyDabbler has attended because he decided to go to his cabin with Wife for the weekend knowing full well that it was my birthday weekend and we had Iowa friends coming up.  I was quite disappointed, but whatever I guess.  They arrived around 11 and we brought Dibo into the prebar party in a shopping cart.  Pretty standard.  NonBloodBro brought a bunch of his college friends that were already drunk to D’s new place, which will now be replaced by my new place as the pre party very soon.  With all of these people in an apartment, the key word before the bar was SHHHH.  As a group of 20 drunk people just want to see who can be the loudest one and continue to try and scream over each other.

We go to a new bar called the 508 bar.  It was plenty fun since we were in a such a huge group, ran into random friends, and got a sweet waitress.  Speaking of running into friends, I ran into a friend of mine that is a Packer fan(BooYaKaShaw).  We had the obligatory Brett Favre as a Viking discussion that I have no recollection of how he stood on the issue103 (poor grammar, I know, too lazy to correct).  After that discussion I entered another interesting one.  Supposedly one of NonBloodBro’s college friends was hitting on my girl and all of my boys from Iowa wanted to kill him.  I hadn’t noticed it at all, but just didn’t want my friends to hurt this friend of a friend, so when I confronted him, he apologized and bought me a shot, setttled perfectly, if it was only always that easy.  Back to the 508 bar, I really didn’t like it as a whole.  The basemant was a trashy version of an 18+ dance club and the upstairs was solid, but too small to ever be a spot I would consider going to on a regular basis.  Surprisingly the night ended without a fight, since I pretty much expect that every time they come in town.  That is until we got back to D’s.  I guess ModelSister and myself got into an altercation about god knows what.  But, they were unable to seperate us or make us stop until a random 50 year old woman came out of her apartment and broke us up.  Absolutely no recollection of that.  Dibo and ModelSister end the night by sleeping on the balcony.

7/12 Saturday Night - The celebration of my birthday. Was planning on going into work for a few hours, but woke up in horrible shape and I didn’t make it out of bed until 2. The best part of the morning after talk (you know the one where you discuss all of the events of the past evening) was when ModelSister decided to whip out his penis and give everyone the whirlybird104 show in exchange for seeing K-Bex’s tits.   After that point we went down to D’s pool; swam, grilled (ate my favorite food, that 20 layered chip dip, so delicious) and hung out for a few hours.   We get back upstairs and NonBloodBro whacked TwinKidMan as hard as he could on the ass, creating a welt.  Then, I ask to see it and give him a matching welt one on the other side.

TKM vows to punch us both in the nuts at some point during the evening.  Knowing how painful that will be NonBloodBro offers for each of us to rub lotion on his ass in exchange for him not retaliating.  Thankfully he agrees and I end up rubbing lotion into his ass.  Not my finest moment.  Bomber then shaved his ass with my shaver and eventually I pissed him off enough later that he informed me of that.  Strange how that works I insult him and in return he gives away his ploy to piss me off.  Shower a million people up and head over to ToadCock’s house for a preparty since D’s neighbors wanted to shoot us after last night.  Since, we were in such a large group we needed to find a game that everyone could play.  Someone suggested this horse race game I’d never played and it was a huge success as everyone was quite engaged and you wagered drinks and shots with people.  The cops even showed up because we were having too much fun with the game and being too loud.  Always a good omen to the night when you see the cops before 11.  A couple of us passed a handle around until it was finished before we left.  Standard operating procedure, no wounded soldiers, including handles.

On the way to the bar ModelSister threw my unsuspecting body into the bushes, absolutely smothering them.  I did nothing at the time and then when he didn’t see it coming I wound up and punched him in the balls at the bar.  It’s my birthday, I’m coming out on top bitch.  Anyway, the reason we were walking for once is because ToadCock’s new house is a few blocks from the subway station.  We get on the subway and somehow we get onto the topic of a buttsex.  I bring it up to my girlfriend about how we should try it already and NonBloodBro takes it one step farther and offers her $500.  She declines immediately.   TKM says < “Fuck, I’ll let you put it in my ass for $500.”  Oh TKM, you always did want to be a pornstar when we were younger.  I then offer to match his payment and she declines again.  Much discussion occurs until NonBloodBro offers $1,000 and then I match it and we offer her $2,000  to let me put it in her ass for my birthday and we were DEAD SERIOUS.  She declines and we all can’t believe it.  This starts up a whole trainwide discussion for the rest of the trip downtown where NonBloodBro is asking all the girls around our age if they would let their boyfriend fuck them in the ass for $2,000.  Most decline, a few accept.  Ultimately, most of them were lying as you know they either have or sure as fuck would for $2,000 knowing the guy is your boyfriend.  The funniest part of this exchange is after all of the negotiationg, Bomber’s girlfriend, Boobies walks up to Bomber and puts her hand out.

Get to the bar and do something new, it’s called drinking until you forget what happens.  Oh yeah, we do that every time.  We get this crazy yet intriguing waitress who is a lesbian.  All the guys hit on her and she shoots them all down, especially ToadCock who she was being kind of evil to.  So, since she shot them all down I offered up K-Bex like she was just some piece of meat and one of the two parties declines.  Which leads to K-Bex and I calling her phone from her phone and leaving an evil message wto her.  Sounds really weird, don’t remember it.  I do remember playing that damn bags video game and getting worked by a girl.  My drunk ass couldn’t push that damn ball straight if my life depended on it.  P.S. That bags game is really dumb. A black man bought me a tequilla shot.  That is not a racist sentence either, it was just surprising, figuring I don’t know many and this guy had just met me 2 minutes earlier.  The night ended with most people going back to ToadCock’s except for D, NonBloodBro and myself who were all hungry.  We try all these places that for some reason were closed that night, which leads us into some random alley where there were about a hundred people gathered around a fire watching each other ride around the fire on bicycles.  It was an interesting site to say the least.  We end going back to our store downtown because we could then order the food to a place.  Get a little too cozy and end up passing out on the showroom floor beds.  Next day my coworker from downtown calls me and tells me I forgot to lock up and set the alarm and left all the beds in a mess.  Congrats me, too drunk to figure out how to lock a door and set an alarm the next fucking morning.

Side Note 103: Going to write an article on this, this week so people understand where I stand.  But, this is not the place for that rant.

Side Note 104: I took a picture of him doing the whirlybird and with his permission, will definately posted it so you can see what it is.  Essentially it’s him playing with his penis in the other room for 5 minutes so he gets his hard length without a full erection and that throws his body in a motion that makes his penis start doing spins around his junk.

Black Out returned last week.  My altar ego decided to consume my body during my birthday week.  Lets rehash the first two stories out of four from last week.

7/8 Tuesday Night - It was a friend of mine, Murph’s birthday.  He lived with TwinKidMan and Bomber in college and is probably my favorite out of their college group of friends.  I go out assuming it was just going to be a casual Tuesday night out.  NonBloodBro shows up later in the night and everything changed.  NonBloodBro was in town for the past 10 days while changing jobs, meaning any invitation to party like rockstars was accepted by us.  The last thing I remember taking was a bearfight.  This is when you order an Irish Car Bomb and a Jaegger Bomb.  Then chase one with the other and then the drinks fight it out inside your stomach.  Don’t know which bear one, but my body was sure as hell the loser.  I ended up puking out the cab window on the drive home while the cab was moving.  I didn’t do that good of a job because I woke up with puke all over my shorts and no idea why it was there.  Also, the next morning my friend’s apartment complex called my friend to tell him that they have video of 3 guys playing with a jug of creatine in the hallway and throwing the powder everywhere.  I have no recollection of the night, so I’m not sure if I can even take credit for it.

7/10 Thursday Night - Our standard Thursday night procedure during the summer is to head out to Canterbury Park for the night.  But this Thursday ended a little differently.  We did the standard college frat guy thing by forcing each other to chug beers.  You see before the race we each pick a horse and then based on the order of the horses, you are ranked, similar to P & A.  Then, I get drunk and bet exorbitant amounts of money on horses I know nothing about.  For once I won on the horses.  Then, I lost it all on 3 hands of blackjack like a drunken clown.  ScottyMac even put me to shame, as he was betting 4 times my amount on top of my bet, meaning he lost all 3 as well.  I guess being a bookie and taking people’s money allows you to bet like an even bigger clown than myself.  Eventually we head home as most people had to work the following day.  On the way home I get the hiccups.  When I’ve been drinking I do not have the ability to shake the hiccups, meaning at some point I end up getting angry enough and shoving some fingers down my throat.  For those keeping track that would be two nights in a row puking.  Anway, D, NonBloodBro and myself decided we weren’t done when we got home.  So, we headed to Williams in Uptown for the rest of the night.  NonBloodBro and D decided Tequila was a good choice. D never takes shots with us, so there was no turning this down.  Standard nonsensicalness the rest of the bar time, which included myself befriending the bartender.  Which allowed me to call him whatever I wanted the rest of the night to get his attention. I.E. “Asshole get over here, I’m fucking thirsty.”  Don’t worry I’m not that cool, I ended up getting his name and number on a cocktail napkin.  Didn’t remember doing that until my girlfriend handed me the napkin the next day.  She claimed that last night I wanted it in case we ever needed extra guys for our pickup basketball games on Wednesdays.  Right, that makes sense.

Back on Monday with the other two nights.  It only gets better.

Hungover as Hell from one wild fucking last week.  Seriously, I don’t think I could have been more drunk.  I blacked out Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and parts of Saturday.  There will be an article detailing all of the debauchery this week.  The funny part is I’ve been celebrating my birthday for a solid week and it hadn’t even happened yet.  I think next year I’m going to start celebrating July 1st.  So, when I was bored at work yesterday I decided to go back and read about my past birthdays, they are pretty hilarious reads.

2 Years Ago

And here is a funny random story that I found when looking for the old birthday stories.

I’m 24 now.  I’m a year away from hitting the quarter century mark and probably having a quarter life crisis.  I can’t think of anything cool about being 24.  The only thing I can think of, is it is the last year you can be cast on The Real World.  Essentially, if I don’t make a tape within the next couple months it will never happen.  I guess there is always Paradise Hotel if I don’t get around to it.

An interesting little discussion took place on one of my fantasy message boards before I headed out to New York for the Belmont two weekends ago.

AllSunCurrent started it off with a harmless question: Over under on total hours of mikey being blacked out during this weekend: 14 (awake) hours. any takers?

TheBigGuy then took it quite a bit further: Here’s my detailed analysis, ShitFinger style:Getting here at roughly 9pm (10pm from airport)- blacked out by 12/1= ~3 hours awake/conscious

Awake at 10am, boozing by 11, blacked out before we go out to race by 2/3= 3 hours

He will remain blacked out through remainder of day due to combination of boozing at race/going out after. Blackout ends at 4/5am Sunday.

Up at 10/11 Sunday for Yanks. Maybe boozing throughout day, but this is the day that will kill his numbers. Really looking at 8-10 hours Sunday while in NYC of consciousness.

Total numbers:

Time in NYC: 48 hours
Total time awake/conscious: 14-16 hours, depending on his willingness to be detained by airport security

Admin0 drunkenly adding to the conversation once I noticed the banter Saturday morning: Benj’s analysis was quite solid. I think he’s underestimating how much I can drink at the Yankees game. He also failed to incorporate the fact that I cleaned out first class from Jack Daniels and got a sick buzz going. Meaning I was solid after the plane. I’ll give the detailed report when I get back.

The stories including a breakdown will be up soon.