We were somewhere around the Bellagio on the edge of the desert when the cliche began to take hold. I had slept fuck all for two weeks and found myself riding a sky high caffeine/alcohol buzz on the inside of a banana-yellow stretch Hummer limo. In front of me, DJ master Ken was kicking it to Kanye West under a glistening purplish light and guttural, screaming laughter emanated from points just outside my cozy tunnel-vision burrow. We’d been doing Vegas, Vegas style.

Tacky.

I thought the whole thing started out a little cheesy when a stretch limo picked our already half-drunk asses off at work, but once we were greeted by the exceedingly cute attendant as we boarded our private airplane, I realized it was just the beginning (if you want to see our best and brightest moments captured for posterity on tha intarweb, check out Max’s channel).

We saw Cirque du Soleil’s “O”, which reminded me a lot of this wonderful trip I went on this one time with all that stuff going on and… anyway. Trippy. After a bunch of us were refused entrance to the pre-show because we were late (buying drinks), we made a haphazard attempt to sneak in through the second floor entrance, which prompted an all-out persecution through the escalators, as the overzealous entrance lady made sure that we didn’t get through. This persecution has since entered Jared-lore (I believe it now includes an armed swat team and high speed helicopters doing flips).

The weirdest part of the show came when the main contortionist took center stage and proceeded to artistically bend and twist until —in a masterful display of physical coordination and aesthetic flourish— her butt was next to her face. At that precise moment, one particularly crude member of the audience said out loud:

Oh my god! She could fuck you and lick your balls at the same time!”

I swear. Some people, huh?

Basterds.

…

Ok, it was me! Can we move on?

— sergio at 03:32 PM     TrackBack (0)