Aunt Deb, can I play too? NJ RECAP

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Photograph provided by DirtyDalerz.com

A week ago today, Ryan and I embarked on our journey up to the armpit of our nation, New Jersey. 4 hours into the trip, we made a wrong turn and ventured into unexplored territory aka "The Ghetto" to us whitefolk where we proceeded to roll up our windows, lock our doors, turn down my LL Cool J, lower my Confederate flag, and stare straight ahead. Ryan somehow broke our code of whiteness and look over at a pitch black abandoned building only to be scared shitless by a man leaning against the doorframe and staring at us. Chills ran down my spine as my chili dog trickled down my chin into my lap, mixing with the contents of my emptied colostomy bag. We had to get the hell out of there, and quick.

Soon we were back on track, and the Atlantic City casino and hotels nightsky was visible across the bay as Ryan exclaimed "Now that's what I like to see, those lights BABY!" Immediately, I checked my rear view mirror to find the flashing lights and spotlight of a state trooper right on my ass and thought "Man, Ryan is one sick fuck and also a jerk." I moved over to the right lane and started slowing down to be pulled over, but the cop flew by me and screamed on his intercom "PASSING LANE!" I was relieved not to be pulled over, but absolutely humiliated, ashamed, embarrassed, mortified, bemeaned, degraded, and on top of all that, felt like a sheep because this cop announced to the whole world that I am a hairy asshole.

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After driving down Pacific Avenue past the crackheads and headforcrack prostitutes, we made it to the Trump Taj Mahal to see Tori and Joy and stay for free as "fake" interns. Being pretty tired and soiled, we took it easy that night and hit up the Irish Pub for a few drinks before heading to bed.

Friday morning, Ryan and I went to all the casinos along the strip to play some roulette and score some free alcholic beverages. We both came on top by the afternoon, Ryan by over 100 and yours truly by about 40. That evening, an entire entourage from The Block at JMU came down and met us for wild times. I don't remember a whole lot but I know that Mike, Ed, and I stayed up until 7 am gambling and sipping on Long Island Iced Teas, while Wodsy and Shaun found the casino bars at 4:30 in the morning.

We braved the early morning sun to head back to our respective hotels, when I was harrassed by a crackhead to help me put on his shirt. I ignored him at first but he kept persisting to the point where I blew up at him "FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE" and pushed him down. Turns out this dude was an undercover cop looking for rageaholics who had too much alcohol combined with too much money lost in the casinos. He slapped the cuffs on me and drove me down the AC jail where I was booked and incarcerated for a few hours.

Saturday, Mike, Shaun, Angel, Ed, Macaroni and Steve, Wodsy, Luis, Jess, and I all went up to Scully's to stay for the evening at her place on Long Beach Island. This perhaps was the craziest night of the trip, with so many stories to tell that will last for the ages. For a quick summary: While Scully was at work, we all hit up the local tavern to drink some 5 dollar buckets of Corona and proceed to get shitfaced while Macaroni & Steve hit on every woman over the age of 50 and 150 pounds. As soon as Scully got off work, she met us at the bar to be greeted by all out "HEATHER SCULLY" chants which got progressively louder as she screamed at us to stop. She was in the bar less than 10 seconds before rushing out, only never to be heard from again. I played "Ironic" by Alanis Morrissette on the jukebox, much to the dismay of all the patrons in the bar, and I almost got my head bashed in but luckily, we got the hell out of there, and quick.

We went to another bar where a classic rock cover band played 4 sets, and apparently I was really digging them. I kept screaming at the chick lead singer to play "Free Bird" so many times that she announced that I am no longer allowed to request they play that. After drinking way too many Miller Lite's and minderasers (thanks Scully's friend Ashley), I left the building to go back to Scully's. Mike and Angel remained and later told me that the lead singer said "Oh no, what are we going to do without our dancing man," after I had left.

Eventually we all made it home and passed out, the majority sleeping indoors while I slept in the back of my Rodeo. Apparently, some of my friends were worried that I was going to die from suffocation from sleeping in the car, but Shaun put them in their place by explaining that "Dude, he's just sleeping in his car." He then proceeded to stab them and spit in their faces and yell "swiss cheese."

After spending the weekend at LBI with the Scully and Keown families, I rode back to AC to pick up Ryan to come back to Virginia. But we wouldn't leave before I dropped another 180 bucks on roulette in less than an hour. I bet one single 100 dollar chip on black. It landed on red. All in all, over 400 dollars in the hole. The sign of a great trip.

I've written a lot on this, most of which can only be appreciated by those in attendance, and I didn't even do them justice by my recollection of the amazing events of the Jersey trip, you'll just have to listen to Michael Patrick Keown tell the stories in real life. So all you Internet freakos, you're just going to have to come find us and hang out with us. Check out Luis' webshots for Jersey Shore pictures

That part about me going to jail, I realize now that was all just a drunken hallucination combined with creative genius, a splash of white lie, and a side of bullshit . YOU WANKERS!

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Posted by: xanax on April 29, 2005 10:54 PM
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