Here’s an excerpt:
The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 160,000 times in 2011. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 7 days for that many people to see it.
Click here to see the complete report.
I went to Rum Jungle (recently evicted from Mandalay Bay) with my roommate.
My boy got in a fight with his girl and left.
I stayed. Typical.
I left the club between the hours of midnight and 2:30 AM, details are a bit fuzzy as this was two years ago and I had a few pops that night. I walked out the door and happened to see a blackjack table. The dealer looked lonely. I reached in my pocket and realized I only had $34.
I was at a $25 table.
This won’t last long (if I had a nickel).
I didn’t even sit down as I expected to lose.
Six hands later I had six green ($25) chips. Daddy like!
I sat down. I was thinking of the song by Mr. Frank Sinatra, My Way. I continued to “take” the casino and show them who was boss. I was throwing out $25 chips(making it “rain”) left & right. I felt like Diddy in a music video. It was awesome. I love this place.
It was the night before Easter and I had plans with a friend to go to brunch Sunday morning as neither of us have any family out here. He called and called, but I didn’t answer because I was on a roll. I couldn’t lose. I finally answered his call and he came and picked me up around 8:30 AM Easter Sunday.
He was pissed at first but, I explained the story; the Easter bunny (Mandalay Bay) came early this year. I walked out with $1,185.
I love Vegas!
Our friend Jimmy Jam, aka JJ, just sent us an email from his hideaway outside Bangkok. We suspect he has been residing in an opium den for the past six months, he claims he’s become a rickshaw driver…whatever.
JJ was seeing some local girl. Now, girls are girls, regardless of race, creed, or geography. So JJ’s girl; “Byling” is looking for more (surprise). Even though they have a casual relationship, Byling is looking for a better return on her investment with JJ. A few nights ago (after the loving was done of course), as they were lying in bed and JJ just wanted to fall asleep; Byling starts talking about what if….love, what if….relationship, what if….marriage?
JJ tells Byling that she is a sweet heart. Regardless (as before), he is not looking for anything serious. He left the following morning and received a text from Byling (3 texts actually) stating how much the pillow talk bothered her…but thank you for the honesty.
I told JJ that Byling is trying to threaten a break up in order to get more of a commitment from JJ. Unfortunately, JJ is damaged goods and will not, can not commit to anything beyond what they already have. Byling will do what most girls do; cut it off. I understand where Byling is coming from; she gave it up for a while, but she is looking for something more than a Fuck Buddy. I understand where JJ is coming from, he’s is not interested in a committed relationship. It could be a fear of intimacy or it could be that he doesn’t like Byling that much. Either way, Byling’s ultimatum will not affect JJ too much, as he does not care if she walks away.
I guess regardless of geography; guys are guys and girls are girls; they are cats and we are mouse.
I am a die-hard sports fan. Sports ranks right up there with females, hip-hop and cleaning out my ears after the shower. I don’t have a said order for those fine things in life because sometimes I value one over the other. Sometimes…
I’m not a soccer fan though.
Is it the fact that I sucked at sports when I was younger?
Maybe.
Is it the fact that most girls don’t like them and you get to spend time with your homies?
Most likely. Although the first one is true too.
So when I was invited to go watch a “match” with a few friends at a British pub, Crown & Anchor, I thought, “why not.”
The match was to start at 11:30 and by my boy Rob told me to get there by 9:30.
What?
Two hours?
Really?
I got there around 10 and they stopped letting people in shortly there after. What an atmosphere! Standing room only. I never thought in a million years; I’d watch a soccer match, at a bar, standing up, for 3 hours. With the help of my pocket flask (and my flask, I mean a 20 oz. Diet Pepsi bottle filled with the finest Vodka) I survived. Surprisingly, I enjoyed myself.
Well, we all know the outcome, the US lost 2-1 in overtime(?). Now I am not jumping on the soccer bandwagon, it’s to boring, not enough scoring, too much whining, no replay. I could go on and on. I promise not to watch another soccer game until 2014.
On an unrelated note, this is the last known photograph with A. Dukes and his mullett…
It is a sad day for us all. Apparently our boy, A. Dukes is serious about finding employment; he cut off his mullet. Yes, the mullet that set hearts a blaze through out Las Vegas is now buried in a suburban back yard (The sacrifices we make for a paycheck).
On a related note, I started my new job today. As appreciative as I am to find work and make a living, I am reminded of one thing; the new job is everything I thought it would be and everything I knew it would not be. To that end, Dukes journey for employment (aka Operation NoMoGubmentCheez), and my latest venture back into the work force (aka Operation MissMyGubmentCheez), has reminded us both just how fortunate those who love what they do for a living are…and to that end; we continue to write and aspire to that which is greater than a mere paycheck.
Stay tuned!
Memorial services for A. Dukes mullet will be held in his back yard…BYOB.
Unemployed…
Down on my luck…
Strip Clubs have sucked me dry…
Casinos have banned me because they don’t except change at the blackjack table…
Sending out resumes by the dozens has got me no where…
Unemployment is about to run dry, 4 weeks to be exact…
I have decided to chase one of my many dreams….
Work for Jimmy Kimmel.
Please check out the site, http://tweetstokimmel.com/.
Help me chase my dreams and spread the word…
Thank you
Correspondence from J-Town
My elder brother, G-Bliss, also known as Prince Hector, Heir to throne of the kingdom of San Fernando, is currently the honored guest of the municipality of Jerusalem, where he is trying to build bridges, introducing Mel Gibson as ambassador and mediator for all future peace talks between Israel and the Palestinian Authority.
Good luck brother and good luck Mel. We shall pray for you both.
While hell freezes over, we here at SCT thought how novel to kick it up a notch and bring in Hector (aka G-Bliss) as our new CFO…and by CFO we mean; Chief Falafel Officer.
A little warning, my brother is witty as fuck, but he is wicked smart, so you may need a dictionary for a word or two (Adam and I usually do). He doesn’t use big words on purpose. He’s just that smart and that funny…So enjoy!
Congrats Giddy…I mean G-Bliss. You are SCT’s new CFO. As with the rest of the staff, we get paid in experience and opportunity.
Send whatever you want, Top ten lists, stories, etc. We do stay away from politics and religion as this is a 40 and under, male centric website.
SCT…when experience and opportunity are not enough
My first job in the Big Sin was working in a third rate hotel on the strip (we shall call it The Jock Strap Club to protect the guilty). One of my co-workers had an attractive cousin in town that was staying in the hotel with her equally attractive friend. Being the professional that I am, I ended my shift early to party with the girls in their room…because I am all about guest service. After thoroughly inebriating ourselves, we stumbled down to the spa where clothes came off, and the party picked up. An hour later we got out of the Jacuzzi and headed back to their room. Forgot about thoughts of being suspended or terminated for lewd contact, with guests, on hotel grounds; at that moment all I had were visions of an impending threesome flooding my mind.
We got to the door, and before I could get in and holler…
Come to Daddy!
The girls turned around and told me;
It was so nice to meet you.
Dazed and horny, I replied;
You’re kidding?
Sadly they were not, and the Big Sin, Las Vegas, cruel mistress of the desert, greeted me with Blue Balls.
Welcome to Vegas…
We all have that ‘Welcome to Vegas’ moment whether it’s losing a few hundred at the Craps table, throwing up on a stripper, getting rolled by transvestite hooker or passing out on a blackjack table. (I’m 3 for 4 on of that list)
For me, it was about three years ago…
I was new to town. I was going out with my new roommate and some of his friends and I had to show the boys that this kid could hold his game. I remember sitting at my new home having an adult beverage when my roommate came home about 7:30 PM and said he was going to the gym and to the grocery store and asked if I needed anything. The conversation went something like this:
Me: O, we’re not going out tonight?
Roommate: Yeah, but people don’t go out ’till about midnight around here
Me: (looking at my drink) Midnight? Really?
Roommate: It’s Vegas homey, clubs don’t close till 5 AM and bars are open all night
Me: Cool. <burp> I’ll be ready
Let’s fast forward to about 11 PM…
I’m beyond ready, I’m having a hard time remembering where I am from at this point. We leave and head to The Palms.
We go to Rain Nightclub inside the Palms. I remember ordering the first round for the four of us, it was 4 drinks and 4 shots of Tequila (because that’s exactly what I needed at that point). It was my debut to Vegas, I had to show this town who I was and I wasn’t anyone to mess with.
Details after that are fuzzy, to say the least.
I remember going to Moon Nightclub, but that’s it.
After talking to my roommate the next day, he told me he was leaving the club and I wanted to stay because I was “dropping it like it was hot” with some healthier, by healthier, I mean bigger black girls. He left. I stayed.
Fast forward to Sunday morning with the exchange I had with a maid…
A knock at the door awakes me.
Maid: Housekeeeping! Housekeeping! (No pillow fluffing here)
Me: What do you want?
Maid: Sir, we need to clean your room.
Me: Checkout’s not till 11!
Maid: It’s 12:15.
Me: (to myself) Fuck! I’ll be right out.
I jump out of bed. Cool, no tranny next to me. But a banana…and my ass is sore.
Shit! Not again.
The curtains are laying on the floor and of course, my shirt is underneath them. I scramble around and get my belongings and leave the room. I feel horrible. I have no idea where I am or how I got there. I hate Vegas. I had fun. I love Vegas. A feeling I have had so many times since then. It’s a weird feeling, a feeling only a person that lives here can relate to. I call my roommate.
Me: Dude, can you come get me at the Palms? I must have got a room last night?
Roommate: Yeah, I’ll be there in about 20 minutes.
Me: Cool. Thanks.
I get down to the casino area and realize I am not at the Palms. I’m not even sure I’m in Vegas, let alone the United States at this point. I walk outside expecting to be somewhere on the strip. Nope. I look around and I do not see any casinos. I look down and realize I am missing a shoe.
Damn it!
My ass hurts.
Damn it!
I look up at a sign that reads…Southpoint Casino. For those of you not familiar with the Southpoint, it’s 7.8 miles from The Palms. Before that day, I had never heard of the place. I have no idea how I got there. I call me roommate.
Me: Dude, I’m at the Southpoint.
Roommate: What the fuck! How’d you get there?
Me: No clue, but I’m scared.
Roommate: Alright, it’ll be about 15 minutes.
Me: Cool
I wander around the parking lot trying to trace my steps ala The Hangover. I have nothing. My roommate is here and I jump in his car.
Me: Thank man, I appreciate it.
Roommate: What happened?
Me: I have no idea.
Roommate: Welcome to Vegas…
Today in Vegas
Wednesday May 19th, 2010
Daily Dirt #523: Camille Rowe, Heat in trouble? Facebook goes public, Dumb OSU violation, Spurs favored to win title, Anchorman 2 trailer
Daily Dirt #522: Isabeli Fontana, Diet slurpee, Rex Ryan down 90 lbs, Jimmer’s getting married, Blake misses final shot, Terminator 3 actor missing and a Sixers fan
Daily Dirt #521: Jaclyn Swedberg, Barkley vs. Shaq in a shirtoff, Welker signs deal, D. Howard to the Rockets? LA Kings and a bungee jumping prank
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