Before reading this entry, make sure you have read all of the previous ones:
The ‘Early’ Beginning of Our Journey
and
Well, I’m going to go ahead and put out a disclaimer on this post. Or a few actually.
- Most of what you will read is probably one of those ‘you had to be there’ moments
- Video is long, retarded and full of foul language and ignorance. {exactly why I laugh when I watch it}
- We were all a little too intoxicated to be held fully responsible for any actions that may have taken place this night
I said my piece, now you may continue.
After our exciting day in Ketchikan, a good rinse and then a delicious dinner, we headed back to where….
*Ding!Ding!Ding!*
If you said the casino, you’d be absolutely correct!
I had switched from beer to bourbon after several rounds of sitting at a terrible table and we all know that can never lead to anything positive. With that choice of alcohol switch, I also decided to leave the group and switched to a table I hoped to be more profitable. {Let me just say that NO table was profitable to me.}
At my new table, I was introduced to my new friends from West Texas. Jordan & Jimmy are ‘West Texas’ in every sense of the term and of course welcomed me to their table as soon as I let my first racial slur slip. I can only imagine it had something to do with the strong current of the Indian Ocean on the boat. And as luck would have it, I looked up and saw one of them sitting two seats down from me. Whoops!
Let me introduce to Jordan and Jimmy. Class-acts aren’t they?
As the rounds progressed, both in cards and drinks, our table got louder and louder, soon drawing over the Brown boys. Anytime those twinks are added to anything, the volume shoots through the damn roof. Constant noise and uproar coming from a table usually means it’s a winning table, so we definitely attracted a lot of attention.
Two things about this picture:
1. Can anyone see what is wrong here? Look closely. Apparently, lefty needed some air and was trying to break through the barrier, hence why my button was undone. …again!… God, I’m so cool!
2. Please see the dude in the white button down at the poker table behind us. This poor bastard had no idea he was being made fun of the entire trip. It all started when he was attracted to the noise at our table and he seemed very normal. Somewhat metro, but pretty normal. That is until he opened his mouth. There is no way to describe his voice, but that he squeaks,slurs and spits out the side of his mouth when he speaks. I couldn’t figure out what the shit was wrong with this dude, so I asked him where he was from, wondering if it was some type of language barrier I wasn’t picking up on. He said he was from the east coast, over in New Jersey. He looked the total part of a guido douchebag, so I asked if he was a guido. This fool was completely unaware what a guido was, so his response is this
“Well my mom is originally from Jersey but my dad isn’t, so I guess I’m just half guido.”
Dub.Tee.Eff. is a half-guido? Like he’s only part-douchbag? I don’t get it.
Anyway, he eventually leaves our table but each time we scream over an unbelievable or nicely-played hand, {such as below} he would hoot and holla back from his poker table.
Every single time, Keith wouldn’t even turn and look, he’d just yell back over his shoulder “Zip it, Guido!”
I have no idea why it was so damn funny, but it was. He never caught on, he never found out why we were calling him Guido, but the entire table would erupt in laughter with each “Zip it, Guido!” that escaped Keith’s mouth.
Of course, as the table got progressively louder, Chris, Danette and Richard wanted to join in on the fun. Turns out, every spot was occupied by a Texas player.
Texas in the house, what-what!?!?!
Of course, we couldn’t be quiet about our people ruling the casino, and when others caught on to our little cult, they high-tailed it across the bar and let us know that they too were from Texas. God, I loved it.
…and, um…. it looks like Jimmy loved my boobs.
It wasn’t long before they stopped serving beer and the casino scene had died down, so we made a transition over to da’ dance club which was so incredibly lame, so then we decided to see what was happening in the Shanghai Piano Bar and Lounge. Nothing. Nothing at all was going on in the piano bar, so we decided to open it back up.
And when I say open it back up, I mean literally get the bar a’rockin. Somehow we managed to find more beer to keep stocked with us so we could drink long into the night, errr….morning.
First, we had a little private concert with Chris on the keys and Kirk on the microphone. When that got old, Chris crawled up under the piano and started jacking with all the sound equipment. We realized there were amps and soundboards, speaker controls and even the switch to make the stage spin. Awesome! There was one cd in the player with an extremely limited list of songs, so he began looking for a plug for his iPod. He is such a nerd.
With no such luck, he told us he’d be right back – and he was, with the wire he needed. When we inquired about how in the hell he found what he was looking for, he got this shit-eating grin on his face. As it turns out, he went down to the main stage where they have all the adult shows and performances and started taking apart all their wiring. Basically, he unplugged the stage’s audio system and stole the wires just so we could have a heyday up in the shut-down bar. With a few modifications on the soundboard, we were up and running with the bass a’bumpin and windows a’shakin.
Well, we were…. all until security came in and busted our party.
Apparently it’s illegal to open up a closed bar on a boat and throw a private after-hours party.
And mess with their sound equipment.
And play their piano on the spinning stage.
And unplug a main production stage and steal wires.
Hmmm, who knew? Are we really supposed to be held responsible if the shit doesn’t work the next day because I think that is certainly unreasonable! Gah
