Ladies and Gentlemen, WE ARE LIVE! We just spent a week in Las Vegas and played in the World Series of Beer Pong, the final event of which was announced by Bruce Mother-F#$!ing Buffer, the announcer for the UFC! I have tons of pictures so that all of you ladies can have new wallpaper for your computers and video so that you can get the full “Crab Experience” as well as see Bruce Buffer announce the event. Also, I’ve been known to write a word or two so a few of those may find their way onto here.

What can I say other than LAS VEGAS IS THE GREATEST FUCKING PLACE ON EARTH! If you can prove to me that somewhere else is better Josh will eat his hat (I can’t, I have stomach issues and he owes me a bet anyways). The week started off staying at the Sahara Hotel and Casino, aka Comp Heaven. We showed up the first night and realized that our rooms were in our friend Aarde’s name and that we couldn’t check in without him there. Of course, he wasn’t showing up until around 11:30 at night on New Years Eve and we got there at 4:00pm. So, we sat around the casino for a couple of hours in a hobo-esque style in the lobby and then decided to gamble until Caleb showed up around 9:00. Here is where “comp heaven” comes into play. I set down $200 at a blackjack table for an hour and a half and apparently made $75 dollars in comp money. How do I know this? I got a new player’s card right before I played and they said I had $130 in comp money. I only played that one table that night. The next morning, seven of us got breakfast and Aarde and I played Bear Hunter Princess (elaborate rock paper scissors) to see who would pay the $75 bill with comp money. I lost and paid. After I paid, I asked the hostess how much money I had left in comp dollars and I had… $130. Sahara comps for the win.

Anyways, New Years Eve night I heard some intense stories about Thane’s past and some girls that we might meet up with that night, had a mini-party on top of the Sahara parking structure that the bicycle security guards didn’t seem to notice, and took taxis to meet up with some of Thane’s friends at the Palazzo. Of course, we couldn’t do this the easy way, so we split cabs with people going to another casino and then had to walk the strip to the Palazzo at 11:45pm on New Years Eve. We made it about 200 feet before everyone started cheering and the entire group (except me) got soaked in champagne. LMFAO rocked in the new year with “I’m in Las Vegas Bitch” and we moved on. We made it to the Palazzo, stood around for a while in the chaos and smokey haze that had collected in the lobby, and eventually found Thane’s friends. Unfortunately, their party had turned into three girls, two of which wanted to sleep and were… subpar, according to a quick group poll. Thane said his goodbye and we walked the mile and a half back to the Sahara. We played some intense beer pong, Caleb couldn’t figure out that pizza was a proper drunk food substitute for a sandwich, and I got to sleep at around 4:30 in a room with 8 people already asleep. Caleb, Thane, and their friend decided that the room was too full so they stayed up all night. Good call.

The next day was check-in for the WSOBP and our hotel for the rest of the trip. We spent most of it driving, standing in a check-in line, not being able to check in because the Flamingo eats asshole, checking into the WSOBP, and hanging out in the only room in our group that we could get into before 7:00pm. Bullshit. The rest of the week outside of beer pong can be described in two words: food and gambling.

Nom’s

I ate two Filet Minon dinners and two dinners that featured a half-rack of ribs with a half of a chicken. How I didn’t die of red meat ecstasy is a testament to Lady Luck willing me to stay alive, if only to take casino money. We ate at my favorite steakhouse on earth, Smith & Wollensky Steakhouse, where Caleb somehow showed up beyond destroyed drunk while the rest of us were mostly sober. He proceeded to tell a seasoned bartender how to make a common drink and started in with his famous crab claws. Basically, he pulls things out of his pockets with his fingers all gnarled like he has intense arthritis and then moves his fingers around like crab claws as he tries to use them, only to drop anything in his hands with his weird grip. We made Thane his alcohol monitor, which worked awesomely as Caleb spent about 30 seconds at our table before he grabbed a drink to cheers and downed it. The other filet I had was at The House of Lords at the Sahara. It was amazing and a decent dinner overall, but not as exciting as Caleb’s drunken tirade.

A Taste of “Crab Speak”

As for all things bar-b-que, Aarde knew of this local’s only vibe place that is a hole in the wall casino, brewery, and amazingly good bar-b-que restaurant. It’s called Ellis Island and that’s all I’ll say, lest I be assaulted by cabbies who seemed to hate the fact that we knew it existed. It is $8 for a half slab of ribs, a half chicken, beans, coleslaw, and two pieces of corn on the cob. We ate there twice. Grub.

Gambling: Cory’s Favorite Thing in Life

(Yes, even over ‘that’ thing)
For the first time in my Las Vegas history, I did better in craps than I did at blackjack. I’m not sure what the deal was, but whenever Aarde was rolling I bet a lot and won a lot. I usually suck at craps, but I won every time I laid money down the entire week. Trust me, I felt like I had sold my soul when I kept winning at craps. That never happens to me. Blackjack, meanwhile, is God’s gift to me. I love everything about the game and if there was one thing you could say I was addicted to it would be that. I don’t go overboard betting and I leave when I lose, but I absolutely love the game. It’s like an entire cake if I was a fat kid on a hunger strike, it’s that amazing.

Oh, ya and there was this thing called the World Series of Beer Pong… Part II tomorrow.

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