Atlantic City:
An Atlantic city for degenerates and shrimp lovers

This past weekend the Battleship and I went to Atlantic City for our friend Joe's bachelor party weekend extravaganza. This was my first time visiting Atlantic City and I have to say that it is my kind of town. If you are a gentleman, there are lots and lots of clubs catering to you and others like you. If you have a bad back, raked leaves or shoveled a lot of snow recently, or sometimes go on really long runs or slept funny, there seem to be lots and lots of places to get a massage in Atlantic City--even at 1 AM for you guys out there that don't keep a "normal" schedule. How convenient! There are lots and lots of friendly ladies who are really pretty and are really concerned that you might be for whatever reason not having a good time. Thank you mam, just being here by the ocean is a good enough time for me!

At the brosure stand by the front desk of the hotel I pulled out this:

There's nothing more romantic than two loving couples coming together in to share genital herpes and genital warts with each other...

If you don't feel like clicking on the image, here are some highlights:

"We want you to experience the refreshing and incredibly friendly ambiance,
the hot tub the shrimp, ..."

• Special adult playpen (private, on request)
• Food throughout the evening and morning.
• Many semi-private rooms.
• Viewing areas.
• Everything is modern
• Everything is Super clean
• Lots of powder rooms and changing areas
• Large mirrored dance floor
• Great food (shrimp every week)

Wait, did they say there'd be SHRIMP?!!!! Tell me you're not half-mast right now.

There were probably 12-15 guys that made it to AC at some point for the festivities. It was a really great group of characters. Some drove up from DC, some drove down from NYC, and some came from far away places like Seattle. It was a group that was a very diverse bunch of white people, but being friends with Joe we had some things in common like being drinkers, gamblers, and born in the 70's.

We also like being entertained, occasionally in the comfort of a hotel room by one or more females with or without clothes on who may or may not be accompanied by a large dude who looks exactly like Junior Seau but with more tattoos. As it were, Saturday night we may or may not have entered room 703 of a certain hotel with boardwalk access and left with far less money than we had anticipated. We may or may not have disassociated lollipops with children and even mouths.

Shawn, the organizer of the weekend, sent out the following itinerary by email:

Friday March 2nd

People can come to enjoy but I have one room right now and that is it.
I can get another if others are going to be down. Price might go up
dependinghow many come down (will not be raised more than $20).

Friday will be more a free day do what you want and drink as much as you
can and gamble.

Saturday

Morning go get breakfast then gamble.

Meet for lunch and start drinking heavily and gamble and
hangout

Have dinner then go play tournaments if people want to enter in some
I'll pass that along.

then entertainment and then more partying.

I tried to do a good job sticking to the itinerary.

Friday
5:30 PM - arrived

5:50 PM - ate delicious sausage from boardwalk vendor.

6:00 PM - arrived at bar in Bally's Wild Wild West Casino to start drinking and wait for some other gentlemen.
7:30 PM - already down $100. Stupid blackjack dealer.
7:45 PM - down $175. Stupid craps shooter.
10:30 PM - just finished watching Pistons lose to the Heat. Stupid Shaq.
Saturday
1 AM - asleep
5 AM - awake, walking on boardwalk to casino to win some money
10 AM - up $15 since being awake. Walk home to shower and get back out there.
4 PM - total costs of trip paid for, shitfaced, at Irish Pub for dinner with amigos. Michigan begins playing OSU.
7 PM - Michigan, thanks to a missed dunk by Courtney Simms in the last minute, has lost and we await entertainment.
9 PM - back at the tables with the Battleship. $25 tables.
Sunday
3 AM - Completely destroyed by vodka red bulls, passed out, up a shitload.
9:30 AM - puking in trash can outside on balcony while concerned gentlemen videotape it from inside, laughing and cheering at each retch.

Office Party Time 2006 Part 1



Monday and Tuesday were rare back-to-back no drinking days for me. A single day off is a pretty big deal, but two in the row...it's like a Colts losing streak. Both days my stomach was bothering me quite a bit. Yesterday the streak came to an end in a big way, at work. The first of two Christmas parties was yesterday afternoon. They hold these things in the basement of the building in conference rooms so the noise doesn't bother non-partying workers. You can get a permission pass to bring alcohol to holiday and retirement parties and the like.

Most of the parties don't really have much structure to them other than some sort of retirement or happy holidays crappy speech and lots of eating of finger foods. Yesterday the organizer decided that it would be fun to have a family feud game between the divisions in the office. Through office emails it was decided that the captain of the team would be the team member with the least amount of service, who happened to be me. I initially protested. They fired back:

Okay, here's how I think we should do it.

1) Make paper slips with every team member's name.
2) Put the slips into a hat.
3) Keep drawing slips until Will's name is chosen.

I'm not sure if we should draw *with* or *without* replacement -
Eugene, do you want to weigh in here?

hahaha! assholes! My response:

If you think I won't be drinking at the party, you are mistaken. I'll be the Captain Hazelwood of the ECD ship.

Everyone was fine with that, and we ended up kicking the other team's ass, taking home a trophy reminiscent of the one held up by Borat's sister for being the #4 prostitute in all of Kazakhstan.

After the game, most people started filing out of the room. I was not one of them. This was when the real party always gets started. The real drinkers gathered at one end of the conference table and began working on the beer and wine left over from the party. There was a group of maybe eight of us yesterday. Some great shit gets said by coworkers when drunk, without fail. Highlights from yesterday:

"Why won't that old bitch just retire?"
"Yeah, when Dwight sent that email that just said SHE'S BACK!, I was like 'OH FUCK!' ."
"I know, I mean I feel kind of bad and like I don't wish her dead or anything, and it's good she is out of the hospital finally, but I was so praying that she would decide to stop working."

"Next year, you put me in charge of the Christmas party, and I'll guarantee strippers. Women strippers for the guys in one room and dude strippers in another room for the women and Tom. hahaha!"
"Man, I'm telling you, if you want the real strip clubs, man, you gotta go to Maryland. No bullshit no lapdance shit up there. Whoo!"

"Y'all know where you can arrange for a professional male? I got my sister in town next week and she be wanting to get with one a them."
"How old is she?"
"She kinda looks like Halle Barre."

The party today starts soon. I will recap it tomorrow.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT





Purchase this $24 shirt here. It's expensive, but hey, so are lap dances.

There is nothing but basketball on tonight, which immediately makes me think of porn, SUV's, hand guns, and of course strippers.

If you are thinking about going to a strip club, just go jerk off (preferably at home) instead. If, after jerking off, you still want to go to a strip club, then get your ass moving. And bring lots of cash. If you have a wife or girlfriend at home, remember to disrobe in another room and bury your clothes at the bottom of your smelly laundry pile. That stripper perfume will get your ass in big trouble if you're not careful.