Category Archives: Life

Trying to Hollar in LA (video)

The MOST accurate portrayal of what it’s like to contact women in L.A.

Every Human Should Read and be Inspired

Do not bake bread in an oven that is not made of stone
Or you risk having imperfect bread. Byron wrote,
“The greatest pleasure in life is drinking hock
And soda water the morning after, when one has
A hangover,” or words to that effect. It is a
Pleasure, for me, of the past. I do not drink so much
Any more. And when I do, I am not in sufficiently good
Shape to enjoy the hock and seltzer in the morning.
I am envious of this pleasure as I think of it. Do not
You be envious. In fact I cannot tell envy
From wish and desire and sharing imperfectly
What others have got and not got. But envy is a good word
To use, as hate is, and lust, because they make their point
In the worst and most direct way, so that as a
Result one is able to deal with them and go on one’s way.
I read Don Juan twenty years ago, and six years later
I wrote a poem in emulation of it. I began
Searching for another stanza but gave in
To the ottava rima after a while, after I’d tried
Some practice stanzas in it; it worked so well
It was too late to stop, it seemed to me. Do not
Be in too much of a hurry to emulate what
You admire. Sometimes it may take a number of years
Before you are ready, but there it is, building
Inside you, a constructing egg. Low-slung
Buildings are sometimes dangerous to walk in and
Out of. A building should be at least one foot and a half
Above one’s height, so that if one leaps
In surprise or joy or fear, one’s head will not be injured.
Very high ceilings such as those in Gothic
Churches are excellent for giving a spiritual feeling.
Low roofs make one feel like a mole in general. But
Smallish rooms can be cosy. Many tiny people
In a little room make an amusing sight. Large
Persons, both male and female, are best seen out of doors.
Ships sided against a canal’s side may be touched and
Patted, but sleeping animals should not be, for
They may bite, in anger and surprise. Of all animals
The duck is seventeenth lowliest, the eagle not as high
On the list as one would imagine, rating
Only ninety-fifth. The elephant is either two or four
Depending on the author of the list, and the tiger
Is seven. The lion is three or six. Blue is the
Favorite color of many people because the sky
Is blue and the sea is blue and many people’s eyes
Are blue, but blue is not popular in those countries
Where it is the color of mold. In Spain blue
Symbolizes cowardice. In America it symbolizes “Americanness.”
The racial mixture in North America should
Not be misunderstood. The English came here first,
And the Irish and the Germans and the Dutch. There were
Some French here also. The Russians, the Jews, and
The Blacks came afterwards. The women are only coming now
To a new kind of prominence in America, where “Liberation”
Is their byword. Giraffes, which people ordinarily
Associate with Africa, can be seen in many urban zoos
All over the world. They are an adaptable animal,
As Greek culture was an adaptable culture. Rome
Spread it all over the world. You should know,
Before it did, Alexander spread it as well. Read
As many books as you can without reading interfering
With your time for living. Boxing was formerly illegal
In England, and also, I believe, in America. If
You feel a law is unjust, you may work to change it.
It is not true, as many people say, that
That is just the way things are. Or, Those are the rules,
Immutably. The rules can be changed, although
It may be a slow process. When decorating a window, you
Should try to catch the eye of the passerby, then
Hold it; he’or she should become constantly more
Absorbed in what is being seen. Stuffed animal toys should be
Fluffy and a pleasure to hold in the hands. They
Should not be too resistant, nor should they be made
With any poisonous materials. Be careful not to set fire
To a friend’s house. When covering over
A gas stove with paper or inflammable plastic
So you can paint the kitchen without injuring the stove,
Be sure there is no pilot light, or that it is out.
Do not take pills too quickly when you think you have a cold
Or other minor ailment, but wait and see if it
Goes away by itself, as many processes do
Which are really part of something else, not
What we suspected. Raphael’s art is no longer as popular
As it was fifty years ago, but an aura
Still hangs about it, partly from its former renown.
The numbers seven and eleven are important to remember in dice
As are the expressions “hard eight,” “Little Joe,” and “fever,”
Which means five. Girls in short skirts when they
Kneel to play dice are beautiful, and even if they
Are not very rich or good rollers, may be
Pleasant as a part of the game. Saint Ursula
And her eleven thousand virgins has
Recently been discovered to be a printer’s mistake;
There were only eleven virgins, not eleven thousand.
This makes it necessary to append a brief explanation
When speaking of Apollinaire’s parody Les
Onze Mille Verges, which means eleven thousand
Male sexual organs—or sticks, for beating. It is a pornographic book.
Sexual information should be obtained while one is young
Enough to enjoy it. To learn of cunnilingus at fifty
Argues a wasted life. One may be tempted to
Rush out into the streets of Hong Kong or
Wherever one is and try to do too much all in one day.
Birds should never be chased out of a nature sanctuary
And shot. Do not believe the beauty of people’s faces
Is a sure indication of virtue. The days of
Allegory are over. The Days of Irony are here.
Irony and Deception. But do not harden your heart. Remain
Kind and flexible. Travel a lot. By all means
Go to Greece. Meet persons of various social
Orders. Morocco should be visited by foot,
Siberia by plane. Do not be put off by
Thinking of mortality. You live long enough. There
Would, if you lived longer, never be any new
People. Enjoy the new people you see. Put your hand out
And touch that girl’s arm. If you are
Able to, have children. When taking pills, be sure
You know what they are. Avoid cholesterol. In conversation
Be understanding and witty, in order that you may give
Comfort and excitement at the same time. This is the
   high road to popularity
And social success, but it is also good
For your soul and for your sense of yourself. Be supportive of others
At the expense of your wit, not otherwise. No
Joke is worth hurting someone deeply. Avoid contagious diseases.
If you do not have money, you must probably earn some
But do it in a way that is pleasant and does
Not take too much time. Painting ridiculous pictures
Is one good way, and giving lectures about yourself is another.
I once had the idea of importing tropical birds
From Africa to America, but the test cage of birds
All died on the ship, so I was unable to become
Rich that way. Another scheme I had was
To translate some songs from French into English, but
No one wanted to sing them. Living outside Florence
In February, March, and April was an excellent idea
For me, and may be for you, although I recently revisited
The place where I lived, and it is now more “built up”;
Still, a little bit further out, it is not, and the fruit trees
There seem the most beautiful in the world. Every day
A new flower would appear in the garden, or every other day,
And I was able to put all this in what I wrote. I let
The weather and the landscape be narrative in me. To make money
By writing, though, was difficult. So I taught
English in a university in spite of my fear that
I knew nothing. Do not let your fear of ignorance keep you
From teaching, if that would be good for you, nor
Should you let your need for success interfere with what you love,
In fact, to do. Things have a way of working out
Which is nonsensical, and one should try to see
How that process works. If you can understand chance,
You will be lucky, for luck is what chance is about
To become, in a human context, either
Good luck or bad. You should visit places that
Have a lot of savour for you. You should be glad
To be alive. You must try to be as good as you can.
I do not know what virtue is in an absolute way,
But in the particular it is excellence which does not harm
The material but ennobles and refines it. So, honesty
Ennobles the heart and harms not the person or the coins
He remembers to give back. So, courage ennobles the heart
And the bearer’s body; and tenderness refines the touch.
The problem of being good and also doing what one wishes
Is not as difficult as it seems. It is, however,
Best to get embarked early on one’s dearest desires.
Be attentive to your dreams. They are usually about sex,
But they deal with other things as well in an indirect fashion
And contain information that you should have.
You should also read poetry. Do not eat too many bananas.
In the springtime, plant. In the autumn, harvest.
In the summer and winter, exercise. Do not put
Your finger inside a clam shell or
It may be snapped off by the living clam. Do not wear a shirt
More than two times without sending it to the laundry.
Be a bee fancier only if you have a face net. Avoid flies,
Hornets, and wasps. Clasp other people’s hands firmly
When you are introduced to them. Say “I am glad to meet you!”
Be able to make a mouth and cheeks like a fish. It
Is entertaining. Speaking in accents
Can also entertain people. But do not think
Mainly of being entertaining. Think of your death.
Think of the death of the fish you just imitated. Be
   artistic, and be unfamiliar.
Think of the blue sky, how artists have
Imitated it. Think of your secretest thoughts,
How poets have imitated them. Think of what you feel
Secretly, and how music has imitated that. Make a moue.
Get faucets for every water outlet in your
House. You may like to spend some summers on
An island. Buy woolen material in Scotland and have
The cloth cut in London, lapels made in France.
Become religious when you are tired of everything
Else. As a little old man or woman, die
In a fine and original spirit that is yours alone.
When you are dead, waste, and make room for the future.
Do not make tea from water which is already boiling.
Use the water just as it starts to boil. Otherwise
It will not successfully “draw” the tea, or
The tea will not successfully “draw” it. Byron
Wrote that no man under thirty should ever see
An ugly woman, suggesting desire should be so strong
It affected the princeliest of senses; and Schopenhauer
Suggested the elimination of the human species
As the way to escape from the Will, which he saw as a monstrous
Demon-like force which destroys us. When
Pleasure is mild, you should enjoy it, and
When it is violent, permit it, as far as
You can, to enjoy you. Pain should be
Dealt with as efficiently as possible. To “cure” a dead octopus
You hold it by one leg and bang it against a rock.
This makes a noise heard all around the harbor,
But it is necessary, for otherwise the meat would be too tough.
Fowl are best plucked by humans, but machines
Are more humanitarian, since extended chicken
Plucking is an unpleasant job. Do not eat unwashed beets
Or rare pork, nor should you gobble uncooked dough.
Fruits, vegetables, and cheese make an excellent diet.
You should understand some science. Electricity
Is fascinating. Do not be defeated by the
Feeling that there is too much for you to know. That
Is a myth of the oppressor. You are
Capable of understanding life. And it is yours alone
And only this time. Women who appeal to you
Should be told so, and loved, if you can, but no one
Should be able to shake you so much that you wish to
Give up. The sensations you feel are caused by outside
Phenomena and inside impulses. Whatever you
Experience is both “a person out there” and a dream
As well as unwashed electrons. It is your task to see this through
To a conclusion that makes sense to all concerned
And that reflects credit on this poem, your species, and yourself.
Now go. You cannot come back until these lessons are learned
And you can show that you have learned them for yourself.

—Kenneth Koch



“You are the bestest, I will obey you
They wanna know what, I couldn’t say who
You are the only one who’s ever really seen me
I know that I’m the reason that you don’t watch any tv
I wanna lay on your stomach so bad
And it gets a little quiet in this bachelor pad
And I don’t really understand the thing we had
I wanna try again, but it would just be sad
And oh, oh whoa
You are the only one who’s ever let me be me

We can make it easy
We can do it simple
I’ll be waiting right there
Promise to be gentle
Sittin’ by your window
Girl, you’re so fly to me

So fly. Girl you’re so fly
So fly. Girl you’re so fly
So fly. Girl you’re so fly to me
So fly. Girl you’re so fly
So fly. Girl you’re so fly
So fly. Girl you’re so fly to me

We can make it easy
We can do it simple
I’ll be waiting right there
Promise to be gentle
Sittin’ by your window
Girl, you’re so fly to me

So fly. Girl you’re so fly
So fly. Girl you’re so fly
So fly. Girl you’re so fly to me
So fly. Girl you’re so fly
So fly. Girl you’re so fly
So fly. Girl you’re so fly to me”

— Childish Gambino

Cut Out the Middle Man (Camp).

This is on a bus back from camp. I’m thirteen and so are you. Before I left for camp I imagined it would be me and three or four other dudes I hadn’t met yet, running around all summer, getting into trouble. It turned out it would be me and just one girl. That’s you. And we’re still at camp as long as we’re on the bus and not at the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us. We’re still wearing our orange camp t-shirts. We still smell like pineneedles. I like you and you like me and I more-than-like you, but I don’t know if you do or don’t more-than-like me. You’ve never said, so I haven’t been saying anything all summer, content to enjoy the small miracle of a girl choosing to talk to me and choosing to do so again the next day and so on.A girl who’s smart and funny and who, if I say something dumb for a laugh, is willing to say something two or three times as dumb to make me laugh, but who also gets weird and wise sometimes in a way I could never be. A girl who reads books that no one’s assigned to her, whose curly brown hair has a line running through it from where she put a tie to hold it up while it was still wet

Back in the real world we don’t go to the same school, and unless one of our families moves to a dramatically different neighborhood, we won’t go to the same high school. So, this is kind of it for us. Unless I say something. And it might especially be it for us if I actually do say something. The sun’s gone down and the bus is quiet. A lot of kids are asleep. We’re talking in whispers about a tree we saw at a rest stop that looks like a kid we know. And then I’m like, “Can I tell you something?” And all of a sudden I’m telling you. And I keep telling you and it all comes out of me and it keeps coming and your face is there and gone and there and gone as we pass underneath the orange lamps that line the sides of the highway. And there’s no expression on it. And I think just after a point I’m just talking to lengthen the time where we live in a world where you haven’t said “yes” or “no” yet. And regrettably I end up using the word “destiny.” I don’t remember in what context. Doesn’t really matter. Before long I’m out of stuff to say and you smile and say, “okay.” I don’t know exactly what you mean by it, but it seems vaguely positive and I would leave in order not to spoil the moment, but there’s nowhere to go because we’re are on a bus. So I pretend like I’m asleep and before long, I really am

I wake up, the bus isn’t moving anymore. The domed lights that line the center aisle are all on. I turn and you’re not there. Then again a lot of kids aren’t in their seats anymore. We’re parked at the pick-up point, which is in the parking lot of a Methodist church. The bus is half empty. You might be in your dad’s car by now, your bags and things piled high in the trunk. The girls in the back of the bus are shrieking and laughing and taking their sweet time disembarking as I swing my legs out into the aisle to get up off the bus, just as one of them reaches my row. It used to be our row, on our way off. It’s Michelle, a girl who got suspended from third grade for a week after throwing rocks at my head. Adolescence is doing her a ton of favors body-wise. She stops and looks down at me. And her head is blasted from behind by the dome light, so I can’t really see her face, but I can see her smile. And she says one word: “destiny.” Then her and the girls clogging the aisles behind her all laugh and then she turns and leads them off the bus. I didn’t know you were friends with them

I find my dad in the parking lot. He drives me back to our house and camp is over. So is summer, even though there’s two weeks until school starts. This isn’t a story about how girls are evil or how love is bad, this is a story about how I learned something and I’m not saying this thing is true or not, I’m just saying it’s what I learned. I told you something. It was just for you and you told everybody. So I learned cut out the middle man, make it all for everybody, always. Everybody can’t turn around and tell everybody, everybody already knows, I told them. But this means there isn’t a place in my life for you or someone like you. Is it sad? Sure. But it’s a sadness I chose. I wish I could say this was a story about how I got on the bus a boy and got off a man more cynical, hardened, and mature and shit. But that’s not true. The truth is I got on the bus a boy. And I never got off the bus. I still haven’t.

— Gambino. 


Email From Mom

Hey Jr,

Katrina and I have begun watching a TV show called “Basketball Wives”.  And well, we’ve decided that there needs to be a new show called “Basketball Moms”, so everyone could see how we basketball moms spend our time plotting and running off these expensive basketball wife hooches from our sons.



Poetry Swag.

Cause baby tonight, Facebook got us falling in love again
Yeah, baby tonight, your new profile pic got me falling in love again
So tag, tag, like it’s the last, last night of your life, life
Gonna poke you right now.


I Have A Real Life Stalker (finally).

—-the names have been changed to protect myself—-

During my second week here in France (early September), I logged onto Facebook and did my normal add-friends-poke-back-wall-post deal as usual. Unlike MySpace, I never really check who I’m adding, I just do. The ‘book is just not as crazy as MySpace so I don’t find the need for background checks.

Well, maybe that time has come, because just when I thought Mark Zuckerberg had made it safe to Facebook, I got a message from “Julie” on Facebook messenger:

“Welcome to Nancy! I am excited that you are here.”

“Thanks,” I answered.

“I am friends with your teammate. I saw your practice today.”

“Have I met you before?” I asked.

“No. Just saying hi,” she replied.

Like most random people who hit me up on FB Messenger, she just wanted to say hi. I was fine with that.

A few days later, she hit me up again.

“How are you?”

“I’m cool,” I answered.

“I miss you,” she said.

“Wait, what? I don’t even know you. I’ve never met you before.”

The whole “I miss you” thing 

“Why are you being mean? O.K. then. Goodbye,” she wrote.

The next day at practice I told my teammates about the whole interaction. Naturally, they asked how she looked. I tried to help them focus on the point of the matter. She had never met me and she missed me. That pretty much negates everything else anyway.

So a few days later, I was with my man Lamayn at a local club and she showed up. I felt kinda bad about what I last said to her and since this was our first meeting, I apologized, but told her that it’s not normal for someone to miss someone they had never met. 

The next day she hit me up on FB Messenger again.

“So are we still on for Friday?”

“What do you mean are we still on?” I asked her.

“You told me we would get together on Friday.”

“No, I didn’t. I said one sentence to you. I never said anything about that.”

“Why do you change your mind?”


“Then when you are ready to spend time with me let me know,” she said.

Then an hour later:

“You can just tell me if you want to hang out with me or not,” she said.

I wasn’t near my computer so it went unanswered.

“Fine. I guess I have my answer,” she wrote.

A week later she sent me a message about how she doesn’t want me to leave the team and that she read in the local paper that I could be leaving soon. I disregarded it.

Fast forward to November 8th.

I had just gotten back home from a road trip to Cholet. It was 1:15 AM and I was about to leave my spot to go to Lamayns to pick him up and hit the club.

As I walked out of front of my apartment building, there was “Julie” at the call box.

“Who are you here to see?” I asked, befuddled. 

“Don’t do this to me,” she said.

“Don’t do what? You’re clearly not here to see me.”

“Please don’t do this, not again. You know I’m here to see you.”

“Are you serious right now? I didn’t invite you here. Don’t do what to you?”

“You told me to come over.”

“No, I didn’t. I’m clearly leaving. It’s 1:20 in the morning. I’m going downtown. I was supposed to meet up with Lamayn 5 minutes ago,” I informed her.

She started getting teary eyed and I felt a little bad.

“Where, when, how did I tell you to meet me here right now?” I asked her.

“We spoke on MSN,” she answered.

“Well, I don’t have MSN. People in the US use AIM. MSN is for Frenchy’s.  Everyone knows that I don’t have MSN. If thats true, what’s my screen name?”

“It’s Boom Tho,” she mumbled. 

“I mean, that appears to be a good guess, but I don’t have MSN so someone is playing a joke on you or you’re lying.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I think you’re lying to me.”

“YOU don’t believe ME?” I nearly yelled out. “O.K. I’ll prove it to you.”

It was nearing 1:30 now, but I didn’t care. I ran upstairs and grabbed my laptop. I brought it back down and proceeded to scroll through all my apps. MSN was nowhere to be found. I then took the laptop back upstairs and came back down. She was teary eyed again.

Maybe she thought I was going to invite her up or something but that was the furthest thought from my mind. I was late for party time with Lamayn.

“So there you have it. Sorry to tell you, but either you’re being pranked, or you’re lying to me. Either way, I have to go.”

I got in my car and left and had a great time that night. I ended our Facebook friendship (first time I’ve ever ended a FB friendship) and I haven’t heard from her since.

The End.

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Peer Pressure Drinking in France

I left my crib and headed downtown (it’s like 4 minutes from my spot). There’s one restaurant that serves Italian food that I had already been to before with my teammates. The main server speaks good english, so she understands that I like my steak medium-well and not the usual purple-red bloody meat that is served out here. The owner is also a real nice guy who hands me the remote to the flat screen so I can change the channel. It’s a good thing. 

After I left there, I went to a bar to meet my teammate. He never showed up. I ended up sitting there drinking some drink that consists of Stella, Cannes (which I think is sugar), and Absinthe. I had about five of those bad boys while waiting for my teammate to show up. 

Finally, I got tired of waiting and I left. On my way back to the house, I walked past a bar that the owner of the Italian restaurant happened to be seated out of of. He was with a big group of people. He called me over and asked that I partake in some drinks with them. Who was I to say no?

I sat down with the big group. I guess it was the birthday of one of his friends. The owner must be like 50 years old, and the birthday boy was 25 on that day. The whole group was already pretty drunk. He ordered three whiskey and cokes. There was one for me, one for him, and one for the birthday boy. 

He handed one to the birthday boy and told him to finish it immediately. I figured the kid would just sip it kinda fast, but it was a big drink and I doubt his ability to finish it so quickly. The older guy told the birthday boy to give him his hand. I was looking confused. The other people at the table seemed to already know what was about to transpire. 

The friendly restaurant owner grabbed the birthday boys hand, and pulled out his index finger. He then put the birthday boys finger in his mouth and bit it. He bit that bad boy HARD. The birthday bay threw his drink back in a heartbeat. Mann it made my head spin it was so fast. As soon as the drink was finished, old guy released birthday boys finger. He then took his own drink and gave his hand to the birthday boy. Birthday boy bit the finger of 50+ year old man.

There was only one drink left on the table. Clearly it belonged to me and everyone looked at me like I had been informed of the rules, now it was time to play the game. I started shaking my head as I saw the teeth marks on the birthday boys finger. I told them I didn’t need my finger bitten to kill my drink. I kill drinks like lions kill gazelles. 

The sweet old restaurant owner was suddenly not so sweet or old. He reached for my hand and I tucked it away. Suddenly, there were four people fighting for my hand — a fight I could not win. Teeth plunged into my index finger and I knew that my only way out was to drink the drink. I took that bad boy like I was Frank The Tank. As soon as the glass was empty, my hand was once again mine. 

The birthday boy ordered another round. I knew it would be a long night.

By 2am I was biting fingers like they were covered in McDonalds sweet and sour sauce. It ended up being kinda fun. I guess that could be the new way to get your boys to finish their drinks. Just bite their index fingers and see what happens. Tell em that a 50 year old restauranteur started it and that it’s your job to keep it going. That’s what I’ll be doing anyway.

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One Last Vegas Story

It was just one of those mornings. I knew that the night before had been spectacular because I woke up in my own bedroom and, for a split second, thought it wasn’t. It was a relief to know that I made it back to my hotel room and that my boys were there too. Well, actually, one of my boys, Elram, was there, the other, JGant, was nowhere to be found.

It was time for me and Elram to recount what happened the night before. I knew the story to a point. We all showed up at JET Nightclub hoping to get in, even though Elram didn’t have an I.D. I knew it’d be a tall order, but he wanted to go to the hottest club that night and not settle for the Palms. 

Clearly they wanted no parts of him and his lack of identification, so we had to bounce. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to head back to the Palms, so that if he was denied again, I could just go right to bed. Elram and JGant had other plans. They wanted to stay and wait for this girl to pick them up so they could try to go to the HARD ROCK and sneak in. After a short argument, it was decided that I had to get back to Palms. They stayed and waited for the girl. That is when our nights went down different paths.

My night was simple. I went to Rain and consumed a lot of alcohol. I fell asleep in my bed. I was awakened by Elram at 6am. He came up to the bed and tapped me to wake me up. I looked at him and told him to go to bed. He said: “wait wait wait. Gabe Pruitt is such a nice dude.”

Confused, I told him to go to bed. That was where my night ended.

I was waiting for Elram to explain to me where the hell JGant was, when his phone rang. JGant was calling. Elram picked up and started talking, then he started laughing. I grabbed the phone from him.

“JGant man where are you?”

“I don’t know,” he answered me.

“Well, why don’t you look at a street sign or something.”

“I don’t see any street signs.”

“Jason, seriously go walk outside of wherever you are and look at a coddamn street sign!”

“Bro, I’m trynna tell you that there are no street signs. It looks like Afghanistan. All I see is dirt.”

I started laughing. I told him to get a cab or tell whatever girl he was with to get him home. There was nothing Elram and I could do. JGant ended up getting a ride and meeting us at the hotel McDonalds. It was time for them to tell me what exactly happened the night before.

JGant explained that they waited for that girl to pick them up while they drank at the lobby bar of the Mirage. The girl came to pick them up a while later and took them to the Hard Rock. From what I was told, she had a bottle of liquor in the car that she offered to JGant. He claims that there had to be roofies in the bottle because he requested to go back to the Palms a few minutes after arriving at the Hard Rock. He passed out in the car on the way and woke up in “Afghanistan,” in her bed. That’s where JGant’s story ends.

Elram arrived at the Hard Rock with one goal in mind: he wanted to sneak into Body English. He was hanging around the lobby, drinking, when a woman began to give him the eyes. He started talking to her, and, before he knew it, he was on the way up to her hotel room.

When he arrived at the hotel room, she put her key in and opened the door. As he began to walk in, he noticed someone down the hall walking in their direction. He didnt pay any mind. He let the door close behind him when he entered the room. Right before it closed, though, a hand pushed it back open and a guy walked into the room as well. 

Elram whispered to the woman.

“Who the hell is this?”

She answered him at regular volume.

“Oh, that’s my husband. He likes to watch. Don’t mind him.”

Elram looked over at the guy, who was now seated in one of the chairs, legs crossed, watching SportsCenter. The woman started kissing Elram on his neck and attempting to unbuckle his pants. Elram was feeling uneasy because the guy was just staring right at him. Elram described the watchful husband as “all swole with hella tattoos.”

It became too much for Elram to handle. He got up and took off. He went back downstairs, had some more drinks and somehow, walked into Body English. When I say walked in, I mean that he didn’t sneak in. He just waltzed right in through the regular entrance. 

After he was tired of dancing by himself, he decided it was time to head home. He went out front and hailed a cab. The cab driver suggested that Elram go to a strip club before heading home (we later found out that cab drivers in Vegas get paid by strip clubs for referrals). Elram, too drunk to use his better judgement, decided to go to take the taxi drivers advice and head to the strip club. 

When he got to the club, he walked in and realized that he didn’t have any I.D., so they sent him right back out. He walked back to the cab. The cab driver suggested ANOTHER strip club. Elram went. Elram went into and was denied from 5 strip clubs, not realizing that his lack of I.D. would keep him from being able to enter. 

Finally the cab driver told Elram that he knew of a place better than any strip club. Elram ended up at some place called “The Redroom.” He walked in and there was one beautiful woman sitting there behind a desk. Behind the desk was a long hallway.

“What is this place?” He asked curiously.

“Here at the Redroom we offer full relaxation,” the woman answered.

“I’m sorry, but what exactly does that mean?”

“It means that we offer full relaxation.”

Elram, wanting to explore further, rephrased his question.

“Different people have different opinions on what fully relaxed is. Can you be more specific?”

“Specifically, when you leave here you’ll be fully relaxed,” she answered once again.

Elram left. He got back into the cab and FINALLY got back to the Palms. He paid his cab the $70 fare for driving him all over the city and walked back into the hotel. He walked over to McDonalds and, while waiting in line, struck up a conversation with Gabe Pruitt (Celtics guard). After all of that, he walked back to the room, woke me up, and told me how nice Gabe Pruitt was.

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Rubber Ducky Escape From Palms Vegas

After our early scrimmage on the Tuesday of Summer League, Joel Bosh (Chris Bosh’s brother), CJ Giles, Elram, and I were looking for something to do for the night since we had a day off the next day. At around 5pm, CJ hit me up and let me know that was going on. He mentioned to me that there was “Rubber Ducky” pool party going on that night and that we should go check out how much a cabana would cost us.

We all went down there to check it out at about 6. There were people all over who were setting up the cabana’s and filling to pool with the signature rubber duckies. We first went over to the pool and grabbed all the rubber duckies we could that were marked “free drink.” We must have left with about 25 free drink duckies, but before we did, our cabana host showed us which cabana would be ours. he set us up with one at the very back of the pool where we would be right next to a bar. Boom. He told us that each bottle would run about $400, but that he could kick us another one under the table for half off. Basically, we would be set. I was excited.

We headed back down to the pool around 9pm and it was already crackin. We went back to our cabana and got the party started. The problem with the situation was that somebody invited these girls into our cabana (nothin wrong with that, usually) who proceeded to destroy our entire $400 bottle and half our ducky supply. Coddamit. 

I began to worry about our drink supply when all of a sudden, the guy who had promised us an under-the-table bottle of Grey Goose, showed up with what looked like a water carafe, but was actually filled with the promised Goose. Nobody knew what was in there except us guys who had reserved the cabana. We all enjoyed the disguised alcohol without the outside consumption and had a great time at the party. 

The party was designed to really be an early-night party, ending at midnight so that people could shower and head out to the real club for the night, so while I was lolligagging, the rest of the gang paid for the alcohol, asked if I was cool to catch up, and left. Of course I was cool to catch up. They left and I stayed back a few minutes onger.

Right before I was ready to leave, they guy who hooked us up walked over to me and asked if I was planning on paying for the alcohol. I told him that it had already been paid, that I had watched the other guys sign the credit card receipt. 

He told me that they had paid for the official bill, but they had failed to give him the cash required for the under-the-table liquor that he cant ring up in the computer. I, being the brokest one of my whole crew, was not about to fork over $200 cash (clearly I didnt even have that much cash on me). I told the guy that I would call everyone else and work it out. 

I picked up the Blackberry and called up the guys. 

“Yo, put me on speaker,” I told CJ, “Man what the hell? Did you guys leave me here with this bill?”

Their answer seemed to be collective.

“We told you to come on! It was under-the-table, why would we pay for it?”

I panicked and hung up the phone. It now became clear that I had to plan my escape. I looked up and around and could not see the guy anywhere. I decided I would just get up and do my best to be inconspicuous (a tall order for a tall guy). I scope the exit, and slowly started to walk towards it. Each step I took seemed to be so calculated. Was I walking too slow? Too fast? Was I looking like I had something to hide? Did I look too nonchelant? 

All these thoughts were swirling through my head even though I had only taken about 5 of the 150 steps it would take to escape. You must understand that the pool was huge and the exit was clear on the opposite side of my cabana. 

I took a couple more steps when I realized that the guy was walking 4 steps in front of me, the same pace as me, with his back to me. 

I saw him look over his left shoulder. I ducked right. He then looked over his right shoulder. I ducked left. All of this happened as we continued to walk. I just needed time to think and I was starting to believe that that time would not come. 

As we finally hooked the left to go to the home stretch, I had an idea. I figured I would enter the restaurant because there was a direct entrance to the restaurant from the pool. The restaurant must have another exit to the lobby of the Palms Place hotel and thus an exit to the parking lot and back to the Palms. 

The guy kept it moving right past the path to the restaurant while I took a left, keeping the same pace, heading to what appeared to be the promised land. But, right when I hooked that left, as if he had been in this situation many times before, the guy took off running toward the exit. Right then I realized that he was going to go cut me off at the resturant exit, which must also be in position to see the regular Palms Place exit. 

I turned right back around, this time not looking back or worried about pace and walked right back in the direction I had come from.

The guy must’ve still been indoors as I turned the right, nearly tripping over people and duckies on my way all the way back past our cabana. I remembered that there was an emergency exit on the side of the building that I accidentally discovered earlier while searching for the bathroom. I hightailed it over there.

I barrelled through the “alarm will sound” labeled doors and didnt look back. They led out to the street, but in the middle of a ton of bushes. I stayed low, hunching over and wading through the bushes down Flamingo Street, all the way back to the Palms.

When I finally got back I celebrated, met up with the guys and went into Moon. It couldnt have turned out better. Boom.

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