"New Years Eve: for Dummies"

The following is a very random list of recorded events that took place on or around my recent New Years Eve experience, 2010.
Great. My car was dead again. This piece of shit battery, in this piece of shit Volkswagen, had let me down before. It wasn't much of a surprise. Why do I even own this dumb "Rabbit"? A nickname apparently already fashioned to the Volkswagen Cabriolet model in my possession. Oh, that's right, because I didn't have much of a choice, and I was hopeful when purchasing it. Both can be recipes for future disaster. Oh well, maybe this was a gift in disguise? Perhaps it was better this way. At least now I didn't have to worry about a D.U.I., right? Which I had been somewhat imagining, since this would be the first time this Vegas local experienced New Years Eve on the strip.
Family from San Fransisco was in town, and I'd locked them a room at the Hooters hotel. Not really the most extravagant place, but it was all that was available and it cost an arm and a leg. The family in question was my cousin, I nicknamed "Paramore". I call her Paramore, because she somewhat resembles the lead singer of that band. Her and her brother are my favorite family members, and we've always been, well, at least closer than I am with the rest of my extended family.
I started off my evening meeting up with my brother Jesta. He hooked it up with the Subway sandwiches because he's a debonair gentleman like that. We copped two bottles we both went in on. Ciroc 'Red Berry', and Crown Royal Black. Ciroc is my favorite liquor, only second to Crown Royal. I hadn't tried the new one, however. I would find out later it is tremendous. Great, a new liquor I'll spend my money on. Crap!
After a very confusing and odd bus trip to get down to the strip, and a lengthy wait for my cousin and others, we finally met up. After this joining, everything seemed to be in fast forward. Have you ever had that feeling, you're at a party or something, and you step back and just observe everyone while you take yourself out of the element? I feel I do that far too often. Well, anyway, her friends were all the typical San Franciscan douche baggy, hippy, but harmless variety. Before you could say bottoms up, the bottles were gone. All 7 of these mini Joaquin Phoenix's had done their damage. Both Jesta and I were still craving libation. After a great refreshing conversation with him, while the surrounding chatter ensued, it was time for my fungus!
I had had some shrooms left over from a prior purchase, and as luck would have it, I was able to save it for this New Years evening. I really shouldn't be a fan of hallucinogenic mushrooms, because every time I've taken them, it hasn't been necessarily the greatest and most enjoyable trip. Either way I gobbled them up with some delightful vanilla nougat trail mix. It masked the familiar taste of Lucifer's balls. Win! We all then adjourned into the outside World, where things would really begin, and we could as my buddy Liger would say,"Fuck shit up!"
All of us made a journey to The Tropicana.
Paramore and her clan met up with some upper class, Wall Street lookin' ass, pretty white friends playing roulette (also known as tourists). One of which was a popular brunette femme fatale, who resembled Megan Fox, but less trashy. Eyes were on her, what a shocker! It was around this time that my dawg Tokkken showed up and joined us. If you know Tokkken, then you know discrete insanity. He looks like a mini Dave Chapelle. As a matter of fact, later on in the night, some white dude would call him Dave Chapelle, which he ignored like he usually does. Tokkken was dressed in a full KungFu Gee. Not too surprising if you know him at all, but entertaining, none the less.
We tried to get my cousin and the muppets she was with to join us in a trek to Fat Tuesdays aka: The greatest place ever created. I love Fat Tuesdays and their delicious frozen liquor concoctions. It doesn't hurt that I have the hook up, either.
It's pretty difficult for me to get drunk, but Fat Tuesdays uses gross amounts of booze in a sugary frozen drink, which would likely kill a penguin, if given the chance. Luckily, this penguin was a professional.
After a tedious tug-of-war between Jesta and I, and Paramore and her boyfriend, who I will now call Yakballz (spitting image), they decided they would in fact, not be coming with us to drink at Fat Tuesdays. I'm still a bit angered and regret them not coming with us. What were they going to do? Stay and get finger raped by Christian Bale and his harem of high class hoes? Needless to say, this would be the last time I would see Paramore during her whole trip. Weak. Thanks, Christian.
Here, my friends, is where the story gets real interesting yet difficult. As Jesta, Tokkken, and I turn and start walking towards our next destination for booze, my shrooms really start kicking in. Now, I didn't tell either of them this, but the whole time walking was like a travel through a Kaleidoscope. Walking directly on Las Vegas Boulevard, with tons of people surrounding me walking as well, was surreal. The shrooms made it feel as if the several, several people around were on fire and running. I knew it wasn't true, so I just tried to stay with my head down. Smiling to myself, these visions were vivid. The mental images kept flying while walking through the hotels, and I don't know what kept me from freaking out. Maybe the Crown Royal? Maybe Tokkkens outfit and rapist wit? Who knows, but when we finally got to the extremely crowded Fat Tuesdays, I felt like I'd reached a safe point, and had made my mecca. Time to get saved.
The home girl hooked it up something fierce. Jesta got one of the drinks so huge you have to strap it to you like a goddamn rocket launcher, and the total for everything would've been outrageous, but I was delighted by her flirtatious discount. Just like Flo in those Insurance commercials, she wants me! We guzzled, left and made it back quickly over to the street to get situated. Repeatedly, we had to travel inside the Tropicana to the bathrooms, which after the third time, started to feel like an ongoing joke. I saw someone passed out in a stall and a long haired dude vomiting. Or at least I hope that was real and not imagined.
We caught up with the homies Legato, Cristel and Haunt directly before midnight. Did we smoke a blunt? This too, could have been a hallucination. Either way, by the time the fireworks were exploding above, I had called/texted my cousin to try and meet up like 5 times, to no avail.
Now, I was six sheets to the wind. Fuck three. There was a random guy in a pimp get up, some fool in his underwear, and one in a bear outfit next to us. Apparently, the bear often tried to hug me, until I became enraged. I don't remember much after this.
The rest of this deranged night consisted of Jesta randomly finding an i-phone under an abandoned hat, an old woman seriously trying to pick a fight with me, and a taxi cab ride of confusion which included an obligatory stop at Roberto's taco shop. I was paying for the taxi with a debit card, while paying for fast food with the same debit card, while I was tanked. That felt mad shady, yo!
Needless to say, we got home. We grubbed, I passed out and woke up 3 hours later for work, with a thumb that hurt like Hell, and a cell phone filled with incoherent, nonsensical text messages and voice mails. I can solve these riddles, I must! Being at work was akin to inhumane slavery at this point, but at least it gave me the time to try to piece together all the unsolved mysteries and forgotten instances the last night had just given me. But as any party going, party monster will tell you, that's always the most fun and exciting part of time traveling. Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads... Now that's how you party on New Years Eve. I guess?

Sincerely your Marty McFly,
.,CAStLE,.

Just Beginning........

I'm just now starting this. This is nothing special. Just testing the waters, so to speak.............. More to come..