Rum Makes Ya Dumb

First I gotta say that I altered the page a little bit so that you can get right to the comments. Posted stories can be as long as you want, but only a certain amount of text will show up on the main page. For the rest of the story, just click the little Read More link below. You can also post comments from there.

So, Reno was as you expect it to be: drunk. We finally shipped out of San Mateo at about 6:45pm on Friday. We drove about 2 miles and got in line with the rest of California to go to the mountains for the weekend. Those goddamn skiers. Various people did different things on the trip. EDub, Grand Masta Caspa, and I had a Paper, Rock, Scissors Tournament from 101 North all the way to Reno. I believe Casperson won 9-5-5. Kyle stared silently out the window. Madd Scientist was hollering about a midget who took Eminem’s song “Lose Yourself” as his anthem. At one point we got our asses snatched in a bear trap of a traffic jam, so Kyle and Ryan did the only thing they could do: get out, walk around in the snowy mountains, piss, and then throw a snowball at an open car window. Brilliant! The 3 hour drive took about 6 hours on that night, but around 12:30am we rolled into the Harrah’s parking garage, ready to drink and gamble.

After a little bit of food we hit the craps tables. I love craps. Over the course of about 6 hours, I lost $300. I went up immediately, but then pissed it away. From 1am to 3am I was drinking red bull and vodka. That gave me the adrenaline I needed to hit a home run for myself. At about 6am the only people left were me, Madd, and Caspa. We did the only logical thing we could at 6am in Reno: go try to buy cigars. Unfortunately, the cigar stand was not open yet, so I went ahead with my backup plan: get $400 out of the Tyme machine. 20 minutes later I’m down another $200 (which makes $500 overall). At this point I’m starting to get depressed, so I begin to pack it in for the night. I figure I’ll go back to the hotel and sleep for a few hours, then blow the last $200 I have left the next day. Then, however, I remembered Wirkus’ instructions: put $25 in a slot machine and play til it’s gone or you have enough money for a plane ticket for me to come visit. So, I put a hundy in the nearest $1 Triple Diamond machine and let it fly. End result: put in $100 and cashed out with $200. That wasn’t bad, so then we decided to run over to the Cal Neva casino which has $2 minimum craps tables (all the rest in Reno are $5 minimum). Oh yeah, I’ve been drinking vodka and tonics as fast as they can bring them all night.

It was at the Cal Neva that things got a little fuzzy. No one was playing craps, so we just plopped down and started the table. Playing $2 craps is great, cause you still get free drinks but $100 lasts you a long time. It was around this time that Madd Scientist and I got a little beligerant. It was also around this time that I turned to Casperson and inexplicably said, “What’s it gonna take to put you in a Toyota today?” We were yelling and screaming, and it was here that Madd introduced the world to the 5 and 9 dance. When somewhat hit the point on a 5 or a 9, he did his dance, and the world was better for it. The Cal Neva was also the place where the funniest exchange of the night took place. It went something like this:

Some woman (to Madd): “Gin makes ya sin!”
Madd: *babbling*
Dealer (cutting in): “Rum makes ya dumb!”
*perfect silence for 2 seconds*
Casperson: “Damn, you got us pegged.”

I went up another $100 playing craps at the Cal Neva before we picked up our stacks and rolled the fuck out.

But by then it was about 8am and we were all feeling a little weird, so we headed back to Harrah’s, where our hotel room was. On the way through the lobby we just said “fuck it” and plopped our money back on the craps tables there. It was this table where Madd Scientist made a smart-ass remark and was branded “Backdoor Little Joe” by one of the dealers. Everyone laughed. I was up about $200 there when Erin came down and said it was time to check out. I then spent some money on food and other shit, so all told I was about $200 down at the end. See also, hungover as shit. Slept the whole way home.

As far as the website goes, I’m finishing up the work I’m doing on the users, and when that’s done I can get the Bellman Profiles up. You’re going to need to create a user account if you want a Bellman Profile up on the site. After that I’m going to get the Voting Thingy done, just in time for the first contest.

Speaking of which, Cal has a new idea for the contest: The Michael Springer Battle Rap Extravaganza. I like the name and the idea. Comment on it below.

Finally, I saw yesterday that Steven Ejercito has found, so I wrote a haiku in his honor. Check it out in the Haiku Gallery.

4 thoughts on “Rum Makes Ya Dumb

  1. dutch ecstasy is my best friend
    i work in a bank and i can
    you money, wait no i can’t-
    i do grunt work,
    kill you with a ferk.
    madd scientist- not buyin this
    that i’m a rapper. but i am:
    gem. see:

  2. With all of this talk about marines and meat hats, I just want to go kill an orphan cellie. I hate being out of the loop.
    Once aagain, I posted on the wrong post area. I’ll recap. Saturday I went home for Rosin Christmas Hell ’02/’03. It lived up to it’s name. And for the life of me, I don’t know how my family name has made it this far! If you look at most of my aunts and uncles, with their four or five kids each, about three have decided not to wear camouflage and become fulltime biggots. Do not get me wrong, camouflage has it’s place, but that is not the issue.
    The good, mediocre, part was that I got to play poker for about seven hours with all sorts of relatives. Nothing that could compare to Madd or Zachery’s budget limit or skill, but fun nonw the less.

    Sunday:More X-Mas hell
    Mon:Hell-drive to Madison.
    Monday night:5:30 go to sleep. Sleep and wake until about 1:00 p.m. on Tues.
    Work at Montemarte until 8, and then go to sleep about 9:30 and sleep untilnoon.

    I am back.


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