Thursday, November 17, 2005

"OFF THE HOOK": A RECAP (CONCLUSION)

.......ah, so where was I? Did I tell you about the part how, Thursday night, in the Red Room, in walks Charlize Theron. Yes, I shit you not. I love her ass, so, this is huge for me. She's got her hair in a bun. Wearing a half-shirt wife beater, and this small little skirt. Has a pair of hot-ass wedge sandals on (my absolute favorite on a girl - so yummy). Apparently, she was down there for some premier party or something. Whatever. So, I'm staring at her. Watching her pour a glass of champagne. I'm not exactly sure who she is with, but they were a bunch of tools. Anyway, have you ever been in one of those positions where you think someone is looking at you, and waving, but you don't want to be completely ass-fucked, and wave, only to find out, she's waving at the preppy doofus behind you? Well. That's what was going on. So, her friend comes over, and is like "come over here for a second, just come on, one second". Now, I'm looking pretty damn good that night. Hair is messed up....just enough. Tan. Got my $100 One-of-A-Kind T-Shirt on that I bought at Louis, Boston, along with my $275 pair of Blue Blood jeans. That, and the fact that I am completely buzzed off my ass. So, she brings me up to Charlize, and she's there smiling at me, so friggin' cute. And, for whatever reason I was being all cocky and shit. So, I sit down next to her. Explain to her what I'm doing....blah blah blah. Just random conversation. Next thing I know, about 50 minutes later, I am in the bathroom downstairs at Nobu with her, not even kidding, getting the sickest blowjob ever. Seriously, it was the craziest fucking thing that has ever happened to me. She took off her skirt, and she's standing there with just her wedge pumps on. So, I bend her over the toilet, and honestly, there was no fucking way I was about to look for a condom at this point, and, BAM!!!.........my PIECE OF SHIT Treo 650 starts ringing, and wakes me right the fuck up out of the most unbelievable dream of my life, as I'm baking in the Friday Afternoon sun, sleeping on the beach. What a fucking shame.

OK, back to Friday night. You see, Friday night is my favorite night down in South Beach, because it means one thing:
Prive and Opium Garden. Now, Opium Garden is a big complex. They play house and trance on Friday nights. There is no ceiling to the place. It, literally, is, a garden. Kinda asian influenced. No roof, so the sky is exposed. Opium is filled with nothing but off-the-chart ass. But, Opium is not the best part of the complex. Prive is why I go here. Prive (pronounced Pree-vey) is where every Friday night, there is a famous person having a gig, party, or something else. This week was Dylon McDermott's Birthday Party (big ....((yawwnn)) ...). That's ok, though. Assuming you're not a geek or a doofus, you need to sack it up, and buy a table at Prive. Or, its going to be a real pain in the ass to get your drinks. Spend a little dough ($250 per bottle, two bottle minimum), and get a table, with your own private waitress, and a male bitch to clean up after you. This is what we do.

We arrive at Prive around 11:45 pm. There's about 10 of us. We get two tables. Me and Chris shell out most of the dough, as it's on my credit card (which I'll show you later). We figure it's going to be about $1,200.00 with tip. It's ok though. Because, our waitress, Valentina, is a cross
between Pam Anderson (before the 'ho went bonkers with the plastic surgery), and Carmen Electra. The night starts off comical because, everyone in South Beach is down there to have fun. I have never seen a fight down there - except twice. Once when Shady almost got in a fight because he called some girl "a fat slut" when she wouldn't talk to him, and the other time, tonight; another Boston boy. Our friend, who's a real good shit, has never been to Miami. He walked into Prive, gave me $200 for the table, 5 minutes later, tried to start a fight with some Euro-Trash (for no reason), and 30 seconds later, was being removed from the bar. All the while, I'm chugging my 4th Vodka RedBull, laughing my ass off. But, I go to Prive for two reasons: first and foremost, the music. If you like, house, and electronic (they also have a hip hop room), there is no better place in the United States. The DJ's they have there.....are insane. I went here for the International Music Festival in 2002 (with "Asshole Spice" and "Tron"), and the music was so friggin' good, I think I had an outer-body experience. Tonight is no different. And secondly, of course, the woman. Off-'da-hook! Anyway, the night is just a big blur. There is really nothing but models everywhere - and - unlike Boston - they actually smile, flirt and talk with you. In Boston, a "10", is equal to a "3" down here. And, it is because of looks; but mostly, personality. Shady is picking up girls left and right. Chris is hangin' with his bi'atch. Everyone else is in the hip hop room. Shady is bringin' over "snacks" and his "leftover" girls for me. Whatever, I'm just chill. 3:00 am rolls around, and I'm still standin'. Chris is a DEE-saster, but being friggin' hilarious - - I think at one point he was unzipping his pants for his girl. 3:45 am. All my friends are gone. I'm still standin' (barely), and dancing (barely). There was no way I wasn't closin' the place down. Then. At 4:22 am, *IT* happened. I saw, and stared at, for a good, 30 minutes, the Hottest Piece of Ass I have ever layed my eyes upon. This girl was so goddam hot, I cannot even explain it. Long Blonde. Blue eyes. Rock solid legs. Solid looking real breasts. Dumb as a stump. Dressed to the max. I was definately being creepy, because, I swilled about 4 RedBulls, whilst gawking at her. She was just dancin' all chill and cool, movin' her hair around. A total Miami girl. I don't know what else to say about it. You wouldn't understand. Guess you had to be there. Whatever. I pay the tab. 4 bottles of Kettle One: $250 per/$1,000. 6 RedBulls: $8 per/$48. Tax: $94.32. Service Charge: $52.40. Gratuity: $167.68 (plus, all the cash that Chris was feeding her). Time at Prive: Priceless.

Nonetheless, I closed the place out, and walked home. So, if anyone has ever made the long, Collins Avenue walk home, it's a very disturbingly entertaining hike. People puking. Girls holding each other up. Girls holding each others hair, while each take turns puking. Extremely gay men propositioning me to "suck my dick"(not even kidding) (which, thank heavens, I have never been so intoxicated that such a proposition sounded like a "good" idea at the time - LOL). But, it's all good, because I got my yummy pizza from Crobar and went home. And, Shady, decided to
surprise me with his version of "late night eats". I walk in and he's got two blondes in bed. Not even a joke. Unfortunately, and this is no joke
either; it's 6 a.m., and I'm tired. And, I go straight to bed. Yes, I'm heterosexual, too (I know you may be questioning it at this point).

Saturday is the same thing. Beach, pool, nap, sun, ipod, eat, drink, sleep. Tonight, we're planning on going back to Prive, because some model is hosting a party. At about 10:00 pm, me and Shady head to The Delano. It's packed. Walk out to the pool bar, only to notice this really, really cute, yummy little thing standing by herself. Shady says, "Hey, this girls is hot." I reply, "Yeah, nice ass. Hmmm." So, we strike up a conversation with her. Now, this girl is perfectly my type. Talks like a surfer, "yo, whaddup, just chillin', just hangin', s'all good, yo", and actually does surf. Up walks a guy and asks her, "are you ok for a few minutes?" Turn around, it's Jim Beluschi, the actor. "Hey guys, this is my uncle", she says. So, we're hangin' with him for a bit, and he asks, "where are you guys going tonight?" "Well, we were at Sky Bar earlier...." He interupts, "take me there....I just have to go say bye to Bono (who was in a bungalow)..." We walk to Sky Bar, people are thinking I'm really cool - not because I'm walking with Jim Beluschi, but, because I was walking with the yummiest 19 year old in Miami that night! Go to the Sky Bar, Red Room, and she is just dancing....better than Fergie. It was insane. And, yes, I was the absolute shits, because I was hip hoppin' with her, too. Honestly, everyone in the place was looking at her, and jealous of me (sukkkkaa). This girl was just a really, really cool shit. A blast. One of the coolest people I've ever met down there. I'm going to take her snowboarding this winter (because she lives local to me). Jim says, "Hey, you guys ever heard of The Mansion? Show me where it is, I want to go..." Meanwhile, he's gettin' down, boogying with Shady, while Shady is picking up these two smokin' sisters. I lose him. Me, Jim, and the babe get in his limo, and cruise over to Mansion. Meanwhile, again, everyone is thinking I'm the shits because I'm with a hot chick (not Jim). We walk into the back VIP entrance and go right upstairs - - and - - I gotta tell you - - I thought the music at Prive was good? FUCCKIN' EH!. I have never heard a sound system, or seen a laser show like this in my life. The place was going bonkers. It was like a scene straight out of one of those movies where you're like, "that's not real life..." Well, guess what? It is, and it was at Mansion. So, I hung out there for a couple hours, and danced. And, danced. And, roamed around. And, danced. And, drank. And flirted my ass off. Can't say enough about Mansion, or the night for that matter. It was getting really late, and we left. My ears were ringing. And, it looked like the sun was coming up. Said my goodbyes. Exchanged phone numbers. And, went home. Jealous yet? Subscribe to Ocean Drive Magazine for a taste. It certainly gets me motivated.

Sunday a.m. rolls around, and Shady is getting ready to slice his wrists. He has to leave early. Sucker. I'm staying the night. Probably going to go to Pearl with Chris and the Gang. The day is just the same as all the others. Sun, sun, sun. As I was doing nothing, Chris and the Gang were getting shitfaced at the Patriots/Dolphins game (something that I find to be very boring). They actually got so bombed, they all passed out in their hotel rooms and never made it out. Sucks. I was solo that night. I didn't give a rats-ass though. It was my lastnight and I was going to have fun one way or another.
Instead of going to Pearl, which I hear is really ghet---toeee these days (you need to pronounce it "GAH-HET-TOEEE" for full effect), I went to The Raleigh's Sunday Soiree. Good times.
Stuffed my face with mojitos, hamburgers, and a giant chocolate chip cookie and milk. These girls who were sitting a few tables down from me kept looking over at me, but, I was really not in a talkative mood at all. I just wanted to chill and soak it all in, and have everyone leave me alone. But, I guess I'm so handsome that one of them came over to me and asked what I was doing. It turned out she's a real-estate developer from Apsen. She's French, and her name is Kendra. She's also hot. With, what looked like were real, "C's". We hung out there a bit, and then decided to go to Amika late-night. Now, this is where everyone goes Sunday night, as it's the hot-spot for House on Washington Street. Kendra stayed there for 20 minutes and then her precious, virgin ears couldn't handle the thumping, so she told me she was going to leave. "Yeah, ahhh, buh bye..." No way was I leaving, it was my last night. 2 hours later, as I'm about to leave, I notice a drunken spectacle dancing on the couches. Oh, gee. Big surprise. There's party drunk, Tara Reid. Didn't Tara say she was giving up drinking? Then, why in the world was she swillin' champagne, straight from the bottle. They were big bottles, too. The kind you would need to hold with two hands, maybe even three. I really wanted to snap a picture of her boozin' but, when she would suck it down like a big, hard piece of manflesh, she hid herself in between two very large men who were guarding her. Whatever. She bores me. But, she looked ok. It would have been good if she was all over my shit, the way she was all over the bottle - but - just for the story. I've had hotter girlfriends than her.

Monday rolls around, and yes, I'm chewin' on Wellbutrin like they are Hersey's Kisses. My
vacation is over. Depressing. The only thing I have to look forward to now, is getting my pre-vacation body fat % back to 11%. I assume it's probably close to 20% now, from all the partying. So, for the next couple months I will probably be detoxing myself. And, getting ready for snowboarding, and hopefully my trip to Telluride and Whistler with "Asshole Spice" (if his wife will let him). It's all I got to look
forward to.

Funny thing, after reading my vacation re-cap, do you think it's any wonder why my shrink likes to say, "you just don't want to grow up"? People always ask me, "Why don't you go somewhere else?" My answer is always, "WHYYYYYYYY????" As my extremely hot, and very talented friend from
Bricks and Stones (Best Celebrity Site on the Web) likes to say, "South Beach is Disney World for adults...."

And, it truly is.

WAFS (it's 40 degress in Boston)

1 comment:

CRX Flashbacks said...

Home just in time for Thanksgiving dinner at Bickfords (Table for One) Loser

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