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News from PlasticLand.
Ho Ho ho!

Last weekend I was alerted by a phone call that The Filthy Critic is, in fact, not dead, and was actually in las Vegas doing something or other that was apparently too super secret to tell his buddy about. He also managed to pay me the ultimate insult by calling me a fucking blogger.

He's such an asshole, but I already knew that. Also, his page has apparently been hijacked by his cousin, Jimmy, who's talking about his impending blowjob. Go Jimmy Critic! Get that Knob of Yours SLOBBED!

But enough of filthy's little unread movie blog.

I hooked up with Filthbomb and his buddies "Stinky" and "El Fucko" (yes, they did look just like you're envisioning them in your mind at this very second) to play a little Craps at the El Cortez (kind of a shithole, which is why the boys love it there.) Now, I've never played craps, so I was totally clueless, but Filth and Fucko talked me into learning and with their help, I'm well on my way to being a Craps Master.

the first rule of craps is: To really have a good time, you need to let EVERYONE ELSE know you're havign a good time by being loud. Very loud. Ms. Filthy once told me she could hear them carrying on outside the casino.

THAT loud.

They showed me the bets and then Filthy showed me how to roll in such a way that you:

A) Toss your dice off the table and screw everything up, and
B) Crap out and make everyone else lose immediately.

I got the dice next and through sheer beginners luck made some nice dough for the rest of the team. That's why craps is fun - its a team thing.

The dealers were cool, though at one point El Fucko threw the eight we all needed to win and he kept saying "Thats how you throw the eighter! The Eighter from Decatur!"

Filthy asked the dealer on our side, "Do they teach you all the cool phrases in dealer school?" To which the dealer replied, "well, Not the Gay Ones."

There was also this old guy that showed up and made the mistake of standing next to Filthy at the table. He knew the game, and everytime I rolled he would say, "Thats good work!" or "THAT'S a good one!"

Oddly enough, this guy took an immediate dislike to Filthy, which he did NOT bother to hide. We all thought this was more fun that the actual game and eventualy Filthy comes out with:

"...I would invite him outside but I'm afraid he'll kick my ass..."

The old guy just said, "I wouldn't decline an invitation!"

So. Much. Fun.

Cal left (Cal, that was his name), fun was sorta over, BUT THEN...

There was this guy on the other end of the table who saw filth roll earlier, so he was betting the Do't Come line - basicallt saying "You suck as a roller, and I'm betting against you."

Filthy then managed to not only roll well, but proceeded to intentionally throw the dice at teh dudes big stack of chips and knock them over every couple throws, making him pile them back up every time, just so he could loce them when we won on a point hit.

He immediately left after that.

Cal came back a little later, then I hadda leave, but as Filth then related...

Anyway, Cal softened and ended up hanging out a long time. We all made pretty good money. The table got really hot for a while. The hotel gave him a bunch of decks of cards, which he gave to some of us. And he said he comes to play there from LA every two weeks.

I quit about 4:30, some of those guys stayed. Cal left and he came back an hour later.

If I ever go back to "ElCo" (as the cool kids were calling it,) it will only be to play craps with Cal.

Santa Slappy and Cowboy Earl


In other news, those of you that are paying attantion know that I've been working at a Gentlemen's Club a few nights a week as a stagehand (The OG keeps calling me and begging me to dance for them, but that life is behind me now...) and for the past week we've been doing a Christmas number.

Santa was in the number. That's me as Santa.

I got to spank people.

I got a "present" during the number. A five foot tall, ninety-two pound, raven-haired present.

I Fucking Ruled.

Period.

The big cowboy is my pal Earl the Pearl. He wore that out front all week to drum up Cowboy Bizness diring the week 'cause the Rodeo was in town.

hoo doggies.

People dug the Cowboy. He kept gettin mauled by drunk women who wanted their pictures taken with him. Note this for next December, we'll probably all be there again.

I gotta go. Christmas party tonight.

w00t!

Slap out

14 Dec 03

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