» Publishers, Monetize your RSS feeds with FeedShow: More infos (Show/Hide Ads)
Weekly Friday post written by “The Rookie”… because VK would never make these mistakes.. duh
Guess who’s bizack, still on that grind.
I like it when a girl knows what’s up. Like when you approach a girl, her friends leave her and let you 2 be alone. Or when you’re chillin with your boy, your girl brings a friend over, and that friend knows what it’s all about. No questions. No explanations.
One night I decide to meet up with a friend at some club to holla at the gurls. At the last minute, he asks if his gurl can come, and she would bring a friend for me. Who says no to that? Well, after trying to talk to her, rambling on about different stuff, trying to open up, she’s just quiet. Oh well, can’t get all of em. So after a while, I leave the group and start surveying.
Turns out that this club was having a bad night, or all nights were like this. I dunno, but there was just no talent. It was just like a Roosh nightmare. Might as well go back to the group. By this time, my boy and his girl were pretty much reenacting an Usher vid.
When I get back, the friend grabs me on to the dance floor, arm around me and everything. Guess she missed me. At one point my hand ends up on her ass, and she stops me, saying “are you very sexual?” “Yes.” “Well I’m not.” Great. She asks me if I feel obligated to hang with her, and I told her no. But I did hang around for a while. No other place to go. Eventually I get bored and leave.
A couple of days later, she sends me a message and friend request on facebook. And my boy calls me, saying she asked what I thought of her. I told him what she said, and he was like damn. Oh well, on to the next one. But then I go to add her on facebook, and she rescinded the friend request. Uh, OK? Whatever. She can play her games by herself.
I threw a party the next weekend, and invited my boy. I knew girls would be coming through. But, last minute again, his girl wants to come, and brings her friend. So we’re in a more open, relaxed environment. She should open up more, right? Wrong. She’s even more quiet. She can’t get any lamer. But then she takes off her jacket, revealing a shirt that would make Seinfeld proud.
Her outfit is so lame that even my boy cracks on it. WTF are you wearing? Why are you so lame? Well I get a group together to play some drinking games, flip cup, beer pong, all that stuff. Most of us are having a good time, but lame girl stays on the couch being lame. Eventually, eventually, she comes over to hang out, and opens up a little bit, but then she’s about to leave. Some chit chat and good byes, and she’s like “oh you can get my number from your boy.” Riiiight. But she gives her # to my roommate.
I was originally going to write a rant about girls being lame and and their lame games, but I think this is just too funny. I’m sitting here laughing about it, and just don’t care. DC has much more to offer. Like Jay-Z said, on to the next one (here).
It’s no secret I love my gym. It’s grimy, rusty, smelly and always too hot. It’s the place real men go to “do work son”. The area I’m in is filled with “uppity” more expensive gyms with indoor swimming pools, basketball courts, pilates studios and whatever the fuck rich yuppies must have to stay in shape for only $250 a month. But back to my gym, I love it during the winter time, this is the time when real gains are made before you cut it up for Spring and Summer. The only down side about my gym is that usually there’s no girls upstairs in the free weight area. Everyone knows that the real hot girls go to the more expensive (cleaner) gyms that come with smoothie bars and shit.
But since the beginning of the fall this has changed, more and more women are killing it at my little old gym. The upstairs area has become more crowded with talent. Of course at first I didn’t mind because looking at sweaty female flesh during my workout helps get my testosterone flowing. But a couple of weeks ago something happened that made me kind of hate the sudden influx of girls in my gym.
I was at the leg machine area and some lady comes up to me and asked (with an attitude) if I could take the 45 plates of the leg press machine so she could warm up (I think she thought I left it there). I looked her up and down and knew she was new to my gym. Matching pink workout outfit, jewelry on her hands make up, you know the typ. I’m thinking to myself , “where does she think she is”, this aint the country club or one of those “fancy” gym where they have a Mexican midget come around and offer you a fresh towel and fresh orange juice squeezed from Daddy Warbucks’s butt cheeks in between your sets. This is the house that Arnold built, if you cant take the normal warm up weight off the machines or bars then you probably shouldn’t be up here.
I looked at her, then looked at the machine and said, “are you serious”. Then turned around and walked away…. Fuck that noise, when the recession is over some of you need to go back to Hollywood fitness or whatever the latest trend is
Girls are funny sometimes and at the same time they can be predictable. For instance you go on a date with a girl and then they go wherever first date girls go to die and you really never hear from them again. Well you do but when you try to set up the second date you get more flakes than a hipster chick who hasn’t showered in a week. It’s obviously the brush off but yeah there’s an excuse why she cant hangout again or she cancels more than a couple of times. Whatever, you delete the number because if not you’ll get drunk off a bottle of Jack and drunk dial her leaving a message where you masturbate to pornhub while laughing and crying at the same time….. again.
But then a couple of months go by up to a year and one of two things happen. You run into the girl out on the town with your boys while you’re looking sweeter than Kool-aid with extra sugar. You guys are working the room and the ladies are loving it she peeps this and decides to say hey what’s up trying to get in line. The other more likely scenario is that you get a random text from the girl saying something along the lines of, “Hey VK, it’s been a while, how are you, hope all is well”. At this point you have a comeback girl on your hands.
Now the first thing to do is realize the reason for the comeback girls text message. The easiest thing to do is to check out the calendar. If it’s Spring then she might have been dating someone else and just got out of the relationship and is looking for a good time. If it’s in the fall though, it’s obviously “Bun Season” and her options and she’s trying to hedge her bets and settle down before it gets cold outside. But the worst part of these text’s is the end, “Hope all is well”.
WTF? What if all wasn’t well? One time I’d like to text back, “Actually, my mom has brain cancer, my best friend died in a car accident, I’ve just be laid off from my job, my dog is taking Prozac to deal with his AIDS and I have erectile dysfunction. But other than that everything is great” It would be great if a girl just stopped fronting and said something like, “Hey VK, sorry I was such a flake, can I have some dick?”
But if the relationship kind of faded away on relative good terms with no hard feelings then feel free to get back in the game. Sure the first time you might have gotten the brush off from a Comeback girl but the second time you’ should notice a major difference. E mails and texts being sent back promptly, all of a sudden her schedule is free for dates anytime you want, no flaking allowed, the date conversation flows better and she seems way more receptive to the game you spit. Hell the more than I think about I’d take a comeback girl than a cold start. Just don’t act like you’re too eager and happy she came back, but as long as she acts right, it’s all good.
DC in the Winter, I’m thinking, newest DC fashion trends, jean mini skirts, leggings and ballet flats, I’m thinking hipster chicks in flannel jersey dresses and hairy legs, I’m thinking no more extra medium T’s, I’m thinking pull out the extra medium thermals, I’m thinking back to suit and tie game on Fridays, I’m thinking ghost town, I’m thinking all the dimes are taken, I’m thinking bun season, I’m thinking about going back to my roots, I’m thinking about changing the night routine up, starting back at that one U street lounge, I’m thinking after that we hit up that grimy hipster bar, I’m thinking the line to get downstairs takes for ever, I’m thinking it’s a good thing I know the bouncers, hell in most hot spots in this town I know all the bouncers, I’m thinking cut back on table service at The Reserve and K street clubs, I’m thinking about getting a table at the W if it means I get to see her in that dress, I’m thinking how comfortable I feel anywhere in Dupont Circle, I’m thinking of how Public used to be Club 5, I’m thinking MDMA, I’m thinking Current used to be Dragon Fly, I’m thinking the stage has changed but we still have the same players, I’m thinking I own this town, I’m thinking I can show you around it, I’m thinking pregame sushi spot uptown with the boys, I’m thinking midtown, sushi and some dick spot with the girls, I’m thinking this town isn’t big enough for the both of us, I’m thinking Georgetown is dead to me, I’m thinking cab drivers that ass rape, I’m thinking cold, I’m thinking lonely nights, I’m thinking if I can avoid it, the bun run race, I’m thinking about perfecting python game, I’m thinking about changing the game sort of like Lara Stone, I’m thinking about Come Back Girls, I’m thinking about that one woman who payed cash to have sex with me, I’m thinking sorry no refunds, I’m thinking I want to write about it, I’m thinking of a quick trip back to Vegas, I’m thinking about NYE in LA, I’m thinking about DC Winter Depression (DWD), I’m thinking I need to stop listening to so much Brand New, I’m thinking I need to reread DeLillo’s Underworld and crack open Libra, I’m thinking Bun nights in watching Manhattan and sipping on Jack, I’m thinking that maybe Brazilian girls are the new Russian girls, I’m thinking about the Richmond girl at the lounge, wearing a leather jacket who told me to check out Gaslight Anthem, I’m thinking about how I told her that the Rural Alberta Advantage topped off my summer nicely, I’m thinking why go all in when she has one foot always out the door, I’m thinking about swollen lymph nodes, her head on your chest, cold breath exhale, I’m thinking existential crisis I’m thinking I’m by no means Don Drapper, but I have his sense of entitlement, that makes me twice as dangerous and this is the Wee Small Hours, and doesn’t that mean anything to someone like you, I’m thinking it’s time to get back to this thing here, I’m thinking I still have something to say
This post was completely inspired and stolen from G ‘ Manifesto’s (New York, I’m thinking), thanks for keeping that flame going.
audio/mpeg (9 620 ko)
Sorry I’m MIA this week, but today I turned 29 and I’m feeling hella sweet! Talk about the real sweet spot, I’m only getting better with age. I’ll be back next week with a grimy story for you all but for now ima just chill in the cut.
Oh yeah by the way…. the bastard known as The Rookie… yeah it’s his birthday today too. That’s right, how mo is that, he had to rain on my parade by being born on the same exact day as me… oh well, this weekend should be interesting.
I think VK’s last post makes everyone think about their personal motivation. Why am I doing this? Each person has his own motivation. Sometimes we forget what that is. For others, over time it just doesn’t stimulate us as it used to.
My goal right now is to be in the sweet spot.
Before I met up with Roosh and VK, I was seeing a girl. It started off as friends, then with benefits. By that time we hung out so much that you could consider us a couple, even though we didn’t make it official. We never really went out on dates or anything. We just fucked like rabbits.
That wasn’t even the best part. It was seeing in her eyes her love and complete devotion to me. I knew that I was the most important thing in her life, well second to God. As a man, that’s a great fucking feeling.
Unfortunately I couldn’t appreciate it as much as I should have. She failed to live up to my 2 rules that every girl should follow: be hot and stay hot. That’s another post for another day. I just had to end it. But while it lasted, for the most part, I was in that sweet spot, and satisfied.
Before Roosh left for the 3rd world, he told me about this girl he was seeing, and how he didn’t feel the need to go out and game because he had the “golden cock.” For him, his girl was so satisfying that he really didn’t want to go out and game. You should have seen the smile on his face.
The smile was there, I swear. I saw it.
Some nights I have a great time out, while other nights I’m incredibly frustrated. I start to doubt what I’m doing. But usually after a few hours, I settle down and remember what my goal is, because getting that sweet spot is what makes it all worth it.
This was written by The Rookie… NOT VK!
Now for my own VK video pic of the week it’s from my Favorite British Group La Roux and it’s I’m not Your Toy. For serious La Roux has one of the best “pre game” CD’s of the season.
“Mother, tell your children not to walk my way”
Last week I received this e mail from a reader about the game and wanting some insight. It was a very convincing letter and it seemed like the writer wanted what all of us men want, knowledge about women. As if once he gets what he’s looking for some how or another his life will be complete or better in some way. Sometimes I’m out with the Rookie and he’s having an off night and I hear the frustration in his voice and I secretly smile inside and think back to when I first started.
Back in those days I remember how excited I was just to get a phone number in a weekend (and that’s counting Thursday). If I told you my strike out percentage you’d probably stop reading right now. But back then there was a rush about it, a newness, it felt so good when somehow I was saying the right things and then somehow or another a girl went back to my place on rare occasion. But things can change.
The thing is that you stay in this game long enough and one of the first things to go is excitement. A man can become so methodical, X’s and O’s. I went out one night this weekend on Saturday and got four numbers. Witness say I was on fire that night. Three or four years ago I’d be on cloud nine at this point. But as soon as I woke up Sunday morning disillusionment set in. Even if I did have time (and I don’t) in a perfect world how the hell could I see four girls in one week (there’s a way). But that’s just more work for me. The reality is that for a guy to increase his chance of getting one date in this city he has to pull three to five numbers in a weekend. If you pull five, two will not pick up, call back or text back. One will be flaky and play text games, one will maybe meet you out here and there and finally the last will actually show up to the date.
For me 90% of success on the first date is simply getting the girl to materialize at the location, it’s like herding fucking cats. Speaking of dates, I don’t get excited as much as I used to about them anymore. They’ve somehow become this false routine that I’ve memorized. I already know what I’m going to wear, I already know the topics of conversation I’ll speak on, I already know how I’m going to try to get back to her place. I’m pretty sure that women at my age already know the same things only in the end they already know the excuses why I can’t come back.
The second thing to go is the sex or the joy from it. The more sex you have the more you realize how bad most girls are at it. Honest to blog I’ve been banging a girl and thinking about going home to masturbate (there is something very sad and disturbing about that last statement, not to self make appointment to see therapist).
The last thing that goes is the beauty of women. This might prove how green I was but I used to walk around and see so many “beautiful” women in DC. When I described them I’d use that term “beautiful”, like some kid who just saw his first sunrise or snowfall ever. I rarely use that term anymore, I don’t allow those words to leave my lips. It gets worse than not seeing though. My boys, the guys that have really been in the game for more than a decade, it’s like they can’t see past the flaws. It got so bad with this one guy I’d think that the girl was a perfect ten and I swear he’d complain about “the start of future crows feet”… WTF?!? WTF does crows feet have to do with anything! Can you fuck crows feet, I’m saying? Point being he’d find any flaw in any woman and every woman he was with…. even if he had to make it up. We become sharks, keep moving.
On this blog and others like it, I know at times it sounds so glamours. The women, the late nights, the adventures, swinger parties. But all you get to hear about is the victories and how it is when things go the right way. Nobody blogs about the strikeouts, insane bar tabs and trips to the free clinic. Nobody writes about cold leads, the lonely cab rides home, angry boyfriends/ husbands calling your phone one minute threatening to kill you the next minute crying and wanting to know what really happened, the truth. There is disappointment in a vagina and that’s all the truth you need to know about women. Please believe me there is a price you pay for this, it’s not free, and often it’s your humanity.
Now ask yourself, do you really want it, this and everything that comes with it? I can show you the way through the door, but ask The Rookie, the game is cold son, ice cold on the other side.
VK did a great job recounting Vegas. Clearly, more can be said about what happened at [REDACTED]. What a story. But I only had a few days to let the joys of Vegas seep in. A few days later, I was on a flight to South America.
Before I flew down, I read this post by Roosh, (here). I was a little concerned. Could it really be that hard? I talked to Roosh about it, and he confirmed how tough it would be. “Good luck,” he told me. Hmmm. Now I figured I’d see a sign like this as soon as we land at the airport:
But then I thought about my last trip to an overly-catholizied Latin American country. “Nah, I can do this,” I told myself. I was determined to prove Roosh wrong. It could be done!
There’s so much to discuss about the trip. But I’m going to fast forward to the last day me and my friend were down there.
It was Monday night. We had been drinking all day. It was what we did all the time down there. So this last day, we chilled at the usual spot and pounded 2 pitchers. It was the only bar at the complex that was jumpin. Lots of girls there, in their groups. Mighty Wingman tried to talk to 2 girls sitting close by, but they were Americans, proud to be waiting on their Colombian BFs. We weren’t sure if we were supposed to be impressed. We weren’t. So, we were just about to pack it in, when I saw her sit down by herself with a beer.
It was a no brainer. I was going to approach. This was it. My trip would be defined by the amount of ass I got, and this was my moment. So I went over there with my perfect Spanish opener. It was grammatically correct and observational, yet spoken slowly and without an accent so she’d know Spanish wasn’t my 1st language: tengo una pregunta. ¿Por que bebes sola? Translation: I have a question. Why are you drinking alone? She said she was there by herself, so I invited her back to our table.
Now, my Spanish isn’t as good as it used to be. I hadn’t really spoken it in 2 years. But that’s part of the fun. Maybe Hollywood fantasies led me to believe that, never mind.
The 3 of us chatted, took pictures, and we started flirting back and forth. She showed us pics in her phone: of her daughter (yawn), and then some of her in various poses.
Eventually we moved to another bar, where she said they were playing salsa. We got there, started drinking more.
At this point I was really getting aggressive, and went in a few times for a make out. She was resistant, only letting me kiss her cheek, at first. But I kept pushing. Closed lip kiss. OK I’m getting somewhere. I give Mighty Wingman the signal, and he bounces to holla at other girls.
The 2 of us are alone at the table, watching the dancers, and she’s leanin on me and feelin all on me, flirting back and forth in Spanish. She asks me if I like girls that dance. Duh, who doesn’t? She tells me that guys who watch her dance, pay her. I’m like “so?”
Later she says something. I can’t remember what exactly it was, but I remember that it was some shit test. I gave her a look, removed my arm from around her, and watched the salsa dancers. Out of the corner of my eye I can see her stroking her hair, fidgeting, getting impatient that I wasn’t focused on her anymore. It was a good feeling, cause I knew she would come around. And she did: she grabbed me and gave me such a wet kiss yet. Then she asked me how many other girls in Colombia had I kissed. Will these shit tests ever stop? But I was somewhat stumped. I knew what I wanted to say, but couldn’t figure out how to say it. Never had I said “none of your B I” in Spanish before. After some pause, I said something to that affect, and she was satisfied.
By this time my snake was preparing to moan. I put her hand on it, and her eyes lit up as she smiled. It was time to do the damn thang, what’s my name. “It’s you and me tonight?” she asked. So we all piled in a taxi and headed to some random hotel.
In the room, we were all over each other, but then she said “so, you’re going to pay me, right?” My answer, of course, was an emphatic “no,” and with that, she grabbed her purse and left the room so fast I honestly didn’t see it happen. As I laughed to myself, all I could see in my mind was:
Burned. Not even a negotiation, or a pleading about how she had to feed her kid. Nothing. I might have given her the last $5 I had in my pocket, but she’ll never know.
But what I know is that I can’t wait to go back. That spot we were at? Money. We sat outside, and there were at least 8 girls there that I’d turn in my player card for. Colombia is no joke. But it will have to wait.
One final note. Hot girls were everywhere in Colombia, even in the airport. It was tough preparing myself for what would greet me when I landed in Atlanta for my connecting flight back to DC. One thing’s for sure: you know you’re in the A when all the flight attendants are flamboyantly gay males, dudes wearing shades on the plane at night, and more dudes making out with each other. Fat girls munching away. No cute girls in sight. I can’t wait for my next trip to South America.
Written by The Rookie…. not VK
VK’s video pick of the week
From the Lebron James, More Than a Game movie soundtrack
Drake featuring Kanye, lil Wayne, and Eminem
The trailer for the movie
Everybody has that one band that they’d easily take a bullet for. If you’ve ever read this blog before then you already know that mine is without a doubt and unapologetically Brand New and for the last two weeks I’ve been devouring there leaked latest CD Daisy…. (I bought the CD when it came out yesterday). This is a band that the faintest whisper of among critics and fans alike brings up words like constant change, evolution, growth, layered, always different. This is a band that makes even the haters bow down and kiss the ring. The way I would describe BN to a someone who’s never heard of them is by saying their the band you play in the background while you trip on Salvia and practice AeA (Autoerotic asphyxiation). Fuck a mind trip it’s pure existential enlightenment.
To put it simpler BN is the emo band for the thinking man and grown ups. This makes sense when you think about it. On their first CD, 2001’s Your Favorite Weapon, lead singer Jesse Lacey and the band stuck to the genera and cried about that girl that left them. But on their 2003 follow up Deja Entendu they went in a different direction and this time started to take personal account and blame for the girl leaving. This album was also the set up for the bands future favorite topics death,loss and religion with “Guernica”. Three years later the release of The Devil and God Are Raging inside of Me became the moment the band decided to turn to the dark side. Now three years later with Daisy, the band has settled down there, planted roots, barricaded themselves in and have no intentions of coming out alive. The journey of this band is the transition of young men to full grown adults into pure self reflection and higher consciousness.
Daisy is easily the bands most divisive CD to date, it refuses to let you in and understand. When the Devil and God first came out half BN fans and critics hated it and thought it was crap the other half liked it but thought it could be better. Almost two years later the same crowd unanimously agreed it was their best CD ever and some calling it the best alt rock CD of the year/ past five years/ past ten. It took me two months alone to figure out what was going on in the song Jesus Christ. This is the formula BN is sticking with on Daisy. If it took them three years to make this album you better be sure it will take you three years to fully understand it. First listen its mostly just angry screaming and you cant make out any words. You’ll play it for days straight trying to make sense. There’s a copy in your car, on you personal Laptop and at your work computer. You’ll take a break from it and try and listen to something else but then give up and come back to it. The songs will leave you feeling angry and dark but you don’t even know what their about.
It’s a Rubik’s Cube with half the colors missing and you have to solve it with one hand. The album as a whole contradicts itself most songs are fast and hard about 3:15 of pure adrenaline but then, “You stole”, “Noro” and “Daisy” almost hypnotize you to sleep with sweetness and sensitivity. There’s always “surprises” or side action in the songs that just don’t fit at first but make sense later. The female opera/ church singing in the opener (Vices) and closer (Noro). The random preacher requesting a song in the beginning of Daisy and the kids talking in the middle of it.
Which brings us the strongest part of Daisy and BN in general the lyrics. This is the best part of BN’s game and this time around guitarist Vincent Accardi wrote most of the songs instead of Jesse. The same religious references are there from The Devil and God but there is repetition in imagery of forrest and beds. The lyrics are what’s not to be trusted. On Noro Jesse could be singing “I’m on my way to hell” or “I’m on my way out” one of the tricks BN has been working on that works well here. Sometimes the words and phrases make no sense side by side but subconsciously evoke a story, subliminal juxtaposition. Other times though the genius of it all hits you square in the jaw like in the song “At the Bottom”
“A deer that a hunter shot in the heart
Some dogs that got hit by cars
All came to spill their guts
And we spoke
About the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
And which songs we had loved the most
And then we all turned to dirt
And dust ”
At the Bottom
Daisy
In a Jar
After listening to Daisy for a while I tried to go back to the band’s other CDs. I couldn’t. Even The Devil and God sounded like pop music. Daisy has done it’s job, forced the fans to either follow and move forward or be left behind. This CD will hunt you and leave you with more questions than answers. But three years from now we might all get it, just in time for their next CD.
If you like these songs, the whole CD can be heard on their Myspace page, here.If not and they’re too complicated, Vampire Weekend is working on their second album Jocking Peter Gabriel part 2.
To celebrate his new book, A Dead Bat in Paraguay , Roosh made a video
comments on
While in a deep sleep, I wake up to my phone ringing and pull my moth and dried drool of the Polish chicks tigg to answer.
VK: Hello
Rookie: where the fuck are you man!
VK: Heaven
Rookie: it’s 3pm we were supposes to be at the Rehab Pool Party at 1!
VK: Oh shit, I’m on my way now
I slap Little Polish on her ass and tell her to wake up, she’s got to drive me back to the spot. She mumbles something about more sex, I tell her I’m running on E. We jump in the car and speed off towards the strip. When we get there the Rookie is not too pleased at me, and he has a good reason. If anyone knows me, I’m usually the one always on time. We call crazy cabbie and roll to The Rock and Roll Hotel for their world famous Sunday pool party, Rehab.
My body is so fucking tired, my penis is slightly broken, I’d love to sleep more than anything else. Make matters even worse I left my credit card at Drais so I don’t have any duckets at the moment.
We show up and The Rookie covers the entry which is (at that time 5:00pm) a reasonable $50 a person. If we’d shown up on time it would have been $100 a person. Believe me when I say this is the craziest pool party you will ever go to. By this time you all already know the scene. Fake tiggs, high heals, bedazzled sunglasses, and my favorite Ed Hardy bikinis.
The rookie and I were so out of it though, I was dead tired and not in the mood to game, I wasn’t even in the mood to drink or bang. We just watched as beautiful women danced around us half naked. Seriously I swear to God if Brooke Burke came over to me at that point dropped her bikini bottom and bent over and spread her butt cheeks, I couldn’t get it up. What’s the point of living….
But one girl did catch my eye. She was brunette and dancing with her slutty blonde friend who kind of reminded me of a hermaphrodite. Now while there was nothing but buck nekkid girls running around showing everything off. This girl kept a grey wet T shirt on and it showed off her amazing curves as she danced to Tiesto. This girl could move, I swear the way she moved her body was hypnotizing like you finally knew what the fuck Akon is singing about.
I had to kick game though it would be a sin not to. The Rookie and I watched as TONS of dudes rolled up drunk as hell trying to holler. She was shooting many of them down and talking slightly to others then going back to dancing with the hermaphrodite who surprisingly enough wasn’t getting hit on. Suddenly one guy did hit on herm, so I moved in. It was like riding a bull, we danced and talked and I think I hung in longer than any other guy. I guess she was a stripper and she told me personal trainer from Alabama . Made some southern jokes then she told me she used to live at Va beach for a few. It was obvious she didn’t mind my company. But knowing we were leaving that night and I couldn’t bang even if I wanted to, I went back to chill with The Rookie.
(spot the herm)
We both spend time hollering at a couple of chicks and admiring the scenery. Then the first Turtle I’ve seen during my whole trip in Vegas waddles up and starts talking to me. I make a comment about her sunglasses and then we exchange them. She’s actually pretty cool and she’s visiting straight from Israel . By the drunk lusty look in her eyes I know she’s trying to bang. She keeps asking what we’re doing later that night and we say we don’t know yet. She’s looking for her gay guy friend she tells us. She wonders around and then keeps coming back. The thought of bringing her back and running a train does cross my mind for a slight second. Finally we just leave, our souls were willing but our bodies were weak.
The rare Israeli turtle dove
After napping some, we call crazy cabbie one last time and he drives us to the airport. I still have his number in my phone and he will be the only cab driver I use when in Vegas. The cab ride is silent and driving past all the flashing lights is dream like. Once the airplane takes off leaving the city behind, I doze off and whisper…. Victory…..
Here are some tips on surviving Vegas that I think might help some of you…
Before you go try to spend a couple of days getting as little sleep as possible. Make your body learn how to function well with no sleep.
Pregame like a mother!
Find out were the strip clubs are before hand and then when you jump in a cab tell them to drop you off across the street. Cab drivers get paid $40 to $60 bucks to bring the clubs customers. Don’t bother asking them which one they think is the best one because they’ll probably take you to the one that cost the most.
If you go with three or more guys always get tables at the clubs. It will save you time and money in the long run.
Don’t go on big Holiday weekends, Labor Day, Memorial Day, July 4th, Fathers Day , whatever. It will be crowded and take you forever to get in anywhere and on top of that prices will be jacked up on everything. Better to go on a random off weekend for low flight rates, not as crowded with guidos from Jersey and Hollywood twatwaffles.
‘
If it’s summer and you want to hit the pool parties, GET IN SHAPE. In fact get in shape period for Vegas, the city hates fat people. But at these pool parties it’s equal opportunity scrutiny. So if your planning on going next summer, get in shape now!
ED HARDY BIKINIS ARE THE SHIT! The type of girl that wears them is the type of girl a guy like me wants to talk to.
Be bold, from the moment the airplane touches down, time is ticking. Hollar at everything moving. This is the place to try new technique to reinvent your game and get used to hitting on dimes. And like Jay said…. Always be closing
Don’t go to O.G’s strip club broads are busted
When you get back from Vegas you will suffer from withdrawal and slight depression. This is very normal. Give yourself a day off of work if you can to sleep and self medicate.
Personally for me, the west coast is the best coast. It’s shocking how open and approachable west coast girls are. You will never see more hot chicks with douchebags than out west because there’s so many hot chicks the competition is to stiff. To go from a place where girls come up to you and buy you drinks to a place where 6’s will flake on a date can drive a lesser man crazy. But DC girls made me the man I am, I will continue to pay my dues a couple more years. But please believe me when I’m ready to wife it up… head west young man… head west.
Thoughts?
The next morning I wake up to the beautiful sensual sound of The Rookie yakking out his small intestines and I’m reminded that we’re still in paradise city. We spend the day eating and talking about the previous day while trying to figure out what we’re going to do next. In the afternoon we decide to get some Sushi at Little Buddha at the Palms. It turns out to be pretty $.
We jump in a cab and this is when we meet John our crazy cabbie. This guy starts chatting us up talking about all the strip clubs he can get us in for free, where to go blah blah blah. But the dude was funny as hell. He’d say stuff like, “yeah what you want to do is meet a bitch at the club, go back to her place bang her there and that way you get one over on her” The conversation was funnier than that though cause every word about hooking up with a chick was bitch this and bitch that and all the crazy stories a man can have from being a cabbie in Vegas. The Rookie and I decide to go to Hard Rock circle bar for some afternoon drinks.
Again the Hard Rock circle bar is freaking dead and it takes me a while to remember that the Hard Rock was the spot last time I was here because it was Memorial Day weekend and EVERYPLACE was packed. The crazy cabbie was a cool dude and gave us his number so we call him to pick us up and take us to a strip club to waste some time.
He took us to O G’s and told us how it was the spot and how the strippers would show us love since it was really slow. We pulled up and he handed us a 20 and said to use it to get in (they’d charge us 10 each) but the thing is they’d pay him 40 and he didn’t charge us for bringing us there. This guy was mad cool. Once in the place was pretty dead, looked like some regulars and that’s it. These were straight “Busted ass Daytona stripper” . Now it should be mentioned that I usually don’t like strip joints and I really don’t like paying for lap dances, it’s like paying someone to give you blue balls when you can go to Tom Tom’s in Adams Morgan and get way more slutty action…. But I digress. So we sit down and this blond haired Cali chick that went by Katiana sat down said hello and immediately asked if I wanted a lap dance. I was like I just got here and got my first drink maybe later. She had a phat ass but like 11 year old’s underdeveloped boobs (please don’t get into what I know about 11 year ah never mind). I thought she’d leave but she sat there and started talking.
Finally she was called up to the stage and the second dumbest dance The Rookie and I would see there. She came back and was like, “what about that dance”. I said fine and paid her $20 for a song and to make my penis shrivel (worst lap dance ever). I should have gave her 20 to go the fuck away. After another girl came up trying to talk and said her name was “For lease” hardy har har… This was getting stupid. We called CC and dipped.
On the way back to the crib, Caby asked how was it and we told him it sucked. He felt bad and started asking what are plans were for the night. We told him probably hit up a club or two, maybe Body English then the after hours spot Drais. This is when he told us about The Swingers party. He was like, “Dudes, guy who look as good looking as you two WILL NOT have a problem scoring”. All the women would be about us… blah blah blah. This caught our attention but we were a little skeptical. He’s like, “Dude’s, it’s extra legit, you show up and if you’re good looking they let you in but charge $30 for single guys. But here’s the good part, you can bring your own handle and they’ll leave it behind the bar and make you guys drinks all night, so you don’t have to buy drinks there” The Rookie and I were like maybe and at that point still leaning towards the club. We get home nap out wake up and get ready.
Our official Vegas Anthem!!!!! And it’s so True
*
That night your boys were looking extra krispy. I’m talking cooler than the other side of the pillow. Last night in town fuck it, we got to represent D.M.V and stand the fuck out. I’m rocking an extra white cotton blazer, extra medium plain black V neck T, Rock and Republic jeans and topping it al off with a black silk pocket square. Rookie is wearing nice jeans, dark brown dress boots, a dark button up and a pin stripped blue blazer. We looked at each other and said fuck it, let’s just go to this swinger’s party to “see” what it was about.
Crazy cabbie picks us up and we tell him let’s do it and he’s like you guys are about to have the wildest night of your life looking that good (no homo). So he drives us about 30 minutes away from the strip and we pull up in this neighborhood filled with mansion. He points to the house, gives us final instructions, “don’t use your cell phones, whatever you see don’t take open pictures”. And we walk into (redacted). As soon as we enter……
This portion of the story has been “redacted” due to being G.A.F (Grimy As Fuck). Things that were seen and done are two disturbing for words and would scar readers for life.
Three hours later we decide to leave (redacted). We’re in total traumatic shock of what we’ve just been through. The Crazy Cabbie asks us about how it was and we tell him. We then stay quiet and barely speak or look at each other on our ways to Drais the famous Vegas after hours club. Apparently this place was mad shady back in the day, it’s the spot where strippers, showgirls, dealers, bartenders, people that work the local Vegas world go. Back in the day it used to be a huge coke and ecstasy den.
We show up and I swear to god wait for 45 minutes to get in. Nine different doormen come up to us asking if we want to buy a table. I’m like, “nah, it’s just my boy and I”. Of course they were letting nothing but lines and lines of hot girls in. and of course guys buying tables. Finally we get in and the main door guy is pretty cool to us, he gives us two stamps on our hands.
We paid $40 and later found out one of the stamps was for the VIP room. We shake the grime of (redacted) off and get our heads back into the game. The place is off the hook! Lush, red rooms, beautiful women. I feel a sudden rush and need to start kicking game ASAP. I go up to two girls thinking they might be Russian and it turns out that they’re French Canadians… ewwww. And one is there with her boyfriend. I play it all cool and the gang talk up the dude and all of a sudden he’s buying us a round of shot. The Rookie begins chatting up this sexy brunette standing by herself . He walks over and drops a dope line and I see her smile and talk back.
Seeing he’s in good hands I catch eyes with this little blond joint standing by herself waiting for a drink. First thing i noticed where her deep dimples and high cheek bones. Second was her tiggs, so game on. I walk up and ask her if there is any chance she’s Eastern European ? She smiles and says she’s Polish. I tell her that’s great because Eastern European women love me, it’s a scientific fact! She laughs and I tell her my name. Go through the typical Vegas questions and it turns out she lives and moved there a year ago from Chicago . I buy her a drink (it’s Vegas you’re allowed to trick). And it clear she’s caught the Vapors. I grab her hand and lead her to the VIP room which she couldn’t get into.
(hottest chick in da club)
We dance and then she makes us go back out to find her friend/ roommate. I was slightly hesitant sensing a cock block coming on. But agree and we go find the girl, another Polish chick, and I bring them both to VIP. While in VIP she spot a dude she was talking to earlier and he’s trying to hit and invites us all over to his table to drink. At this point my little Polish chick is bund up for the night with me, it’s so on it’s on. We end up leaving the club around 7 AM, the sun is up.
(after the party is the after party
All four of us Table dude and the Polish chick drive to their crib. In this gated Mansion community. By the way the Polish chick is in real estate and is pretty loaded for her age. This chicks got a pool table, swimming pool and a hot tub. She opens up a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue and makes us all drinks…. At around 8AM. She then changes into her Vegas every girl swimwear (Ed Hardy bikini) and dude and I strip down to our boxers and jump into the pool. I had to keep drink cause I was attempting to get the (reverse whisky dick) . We swim and drink Blue for a few. Then dude and his girl disappear upstairs and me and little Poland decide it’s bed time. The Johnny Blue kicks in and I swear to God I broke a 48 hour personal record.
(drinks for days)
(Ed Hardy & side boob)
It was Sunday and still had the Rehab pool party to go to… if I could make it there on time. This is Vegas, This is what my life has become
“Ha, rock star lifestyle might don’t make it
Living life high everyday click wasted
Sipping on purple stuff rolling up stanky
Wake up in the morning 10 clock dranking”
* Vegas Anthem= My Dick by Mickey Avalon
audio/mpeg (3 19 ko) Day two, I’m not that hung over but my body is a little slow from the flight the day before. But the rookie shows up in the morning and today seems like it’s going to be a good day. We grub talk about how Denver sucks hairy balls then Cookie Mom hits us up and let’s us know it’s all good to go for Wet Republic. We chilled for a bit and then started the drinking. Maybe we were overly pumped for the night, maybe part of us knew how fucking expensive the drinks would be but we proceeded to make two huge (like 40 ounce cup huge) of Bacardi & coke before we left. We show up and go through a special VIP line and get bracelets that usually go for $50 dollars. What we saw next was a little overwhelming……
It wasn’t jumping off on THIS level but it was damn close. I think we showed up a little early like 2 or 3. Long story short I knew it was my time to bring it. So I take of my shirt and we walk up to the bar for $9 Bud Lights. Anyway we’re not there that long when all of a sudden three pretty cute girls come up to us and start spitting game… to us. Let me repeat that because this types of shit doesn’t happen on the East Coast…. THREE CUTE GIRLS CAME UP TO US.
They were LOVING US. Asking the typical Vegas questions, where we from, what we do, when we’re leaving, were we staying. The brunette in the leopard bikini on the left was in love with me. The blonde had it going on with a body like a Maserati. We start taking shots and they’re even buying us shots. We’re having such a good time (Jay Gatbsy will kill me for this) that we don’t even think about getting numbers… figuring we’ll chill and catch up again later
(Me:What up I’m VK you trying to bang. Her: OMG I love you)
(No for serious the boner is on the other side… are you even paying attention)
(Like a Maserati and a really cool chick)
After they wonder off two more chicks come up to show us some love. As if they’d been waiting in the back ground for us to speak to them. They were mostly about the Rookie but here’s what one looked like.
At this point we’d been at the bar for A WHILE so things get a little blurry here. Here’s just peaces of what we recall that must have been A SHOW. First The Rookie is carrying two beers and more than a little drunk. We’re at a pool right with water, water everywhere. So he’s walking with his beer when all of a sudden he slips… big time… I’m talking both feet in the air and no way to break his fall cause he’s holding his beer, it was bad. The Rookie being a rookie. How bad was it… the whole pool saw it. It should be stated that I too ate it.. in the pool into the deeper part of the pool so it wasn’t too noticeable. Another quick blur was when I was in the pool, some random girl swam up to me started making out with me and at the same time gave me a cool handy under the water. Then for no reason she stopped and swam away back to her friend.
Eventually though The Rookie gets sick, very sick, and projectile vomits everywhere (out of the water). For the record I did this last year my first year in Vegas. Some girl feels bad for him and comes up and asks us what room we’re staying at there at the MGM. We let her know that we’re not. So she tells us we can come up to her room. The Rookie yacks and then crawls into one bed, her and I get into the second bed. We pass out for a few and then when we wake up make out, break out some protection and decide to bang. This wakes up The Rookie and he decides to watch then the girl and i notice the rookie is watching but really don’t care. We pass out again and are woken up by her friend who doesn’t like the idea of coming back and finding me buck naked in the bed. We’re suddenly kicked out and both still very wasted.
Believe it or not this isn’t the first time The Rookie has watched one of us bang a girl. There is a saying among my crew, you’re not really friends with a man until you’ve seen his penis and balls enter another woman The Rookie and I moved beyond friendship that night into a brotherhood.
We made it back at 10 pm. I passed out in the Bathtub as The Rookie puked all night in the toilet. Right before I blacked out I whispered in this creepy little kid’s voice, “Welcome to Vegas”. We had one more night to go… how grimy could it get?
I have part 2 of my Vegas story ready to go but because today is today, I’ll fall back and wait till Monday. Not a day for humor and I do have some class…. not much though
While getting ready for our trip the Rookie and I tried to get our tickets at the same time With William Shatner the Price Line Negotiator. Long story short our flights got a little messed up and I ended up getting into Vegas at 10:45 am on a straight flight. The Rookie would be getting in at 6:45pm with a layover. I was forced to waste some time, sight see, and go check out Inglourious Basterds. I poked around on Facebook and that’s when the Perfect Mom messaged me to go meet up for some food and drinks. With nothing else to do I was like, fo sho.
(Taco Salad with Skank Stripper mom and baby before her shift)
We decide to check out this little spot the Blue Agave at the Palms Casino. It was pretty money. So the ex wild cookie / new clam baby momma caught up and had some taco salads. Mean while the 6 month little dude kept giving me the stink eye. He knew what’s up. So new mom gave me the lay of the land and offered to get The Rookie and I into this so called happening pool party at Wet Republic at the MGM. One of my boys from the gym already told me it was money. Cookie mom told me not to worry the way I looked I’d have no problem picking up at Wet Republic. I went back to nap out and got a text from Rookie saying he missed his check in time by 10 minutes and now he wouldn’t be arriving till 11 pm. Obviously he didn’t take the “arrive 2 hours before take off e mail warning” as serious as I did. Then a couple of hours later he called and let me know that he was stuck in Denver laid over and wouldn’t be getting into Vegas till 8 the next morning. Basically The Rookie being a Rookie.
So now I’m in the hottest city, without a wingman, and I’m forced to go out solo Dolo. Dolo is something Im not that comfortable doing like benching 355 with no spot. Luckily I boned up on Vegas and read ( The G manifesto’s articles )tweeked it and felt more comfortable. I mean I had been training for year to take down this city, it was time to man up, I’m in Las Vegas Bitch. I figured that the easiest thing to do would be start at Hard Rock and check out Body English, it was good last year when Roosh and i hit it up. But I roll up with my VK/DC swagger and the shit is closed now on Thursday. But across the way there was a faggy new “Rock Club'’ called Wasted Space (Click here). I should have known something was up because they only charged me $10 to get in. Once in even though it was a little early the place was slightly empty. To make things even worse a Guns N Roses cover band started playing the gayest version of Welcome to the Jungle cover I’ve ever heard. Realizing I didn’t fly half way across the country for this, I left within 10 minutes.
I walked back to the circle bar of Hard Rock for a $9 Bud Light. At the bar there was a mixed group pregaming. I smiled and one of the females in the group who was engaged to another guy in the group saddled up to me and started chatting me up, asking where I was from and what not. She invited me to join her group and roll to Tao night club at The Venetian.
We cabbed up and after paying a $30 cover, let me tell you something, THIS PLACE WAS INSANE! Seriously it was easily the biggest club I’ve ever been in and the sickest. You must checks out pictures of this night club when it’s empty (Click here). There were more rooms and sections than you could imagine, an upstairs, down stairs, multiple VIP sections.
Once in I ditched the small group to go back deep solo dolo. In one of the back rooms I meet and start dancing with this cute little red head in a tight black dress. I move to another more crowded room, where I met this one girl among a group of girls who was by definition “The Mother hen” of the group. For some reason as soon as we start dancing guys come out of the wood work to dance with her friends. But this chick must have been gassed up on premium cause she’d walk away to try and talk to other guys then come running back to me if she saw me about to game another chick. I acted correctly and let her know I didn’t care what or who she went off to talk to, I’m in Las Vegas Bitch. She told me how surprise she was I wasn’t the jealous type ( I didn’t have the heart to tell her she wasn’t hot enough to get Jealous over). So she leaves one last time and comes back to dance with me. All of a sudden she feels around in her open purse and realizes that her camera and credit cards have been stolen.
We quickly figure out it must have been the last douche she left me to go dance with. I’m dying with laughter on the inside that this chick tried to act slick and got her shit yoinked. She’s freaking out and I pretend to help her look around for the dude. Seeing that her night had been ruined and my chances very slim, at the Bar I decide to throw the bomb and ask her straight out if she was trying to bang or not. For some reason she was pissed off at me for this and quickly got her friends and left. Now that I was free of her I could run up the rooms and hollar at all the pretty girls that had been peeping me while I was with the Hen. Suddenly the lights came on and everyone headed for the exits. Typical Thursday night in Vegas, not a bad warm up. I had a feeling that it could only go up from here once The Rookie showed up for Wet Republic.