Thursday, April 29, 2010

Audio Muffin #8


New Audio Muffin today.

Scrumptious Hip-Hop...--->Muffin


You're welcome,

-Todd

Monday, April 19, 2010

Viva Las Planet Hollywood, Plies And DisposaFlask.






My third trip to Nevada is officially in the rearview.

First, some things you need to know.  My family went to Vegas a few weeks ago to celebrate my brother’s 21st birthday.  Myself, my mother, step-father, sister + brother-in-law, and the birthday boy were all in attendance.

I have taken some time to sober up and process what I believe to have transpired March 25-28th 2010.

Here are those notes…




Thursday.


1:00 P.M. - I arrive at the Burbank airport for my 2:35 PM flight.  While waiting at my gate, two teenage girls approach me to tell me that my shaggy haircut makes me look like Justin Bieber…only a foot taller.  The sheer idea of young girls makes me uncomfortable, so I put my hands up like I am trying to convince a referee that I didn’t foul the player I am guarding.

3:28 P.M. - I depart from the Burbank airport.

4:19 P.M. - I land at the Las Vegas airport.

4:34 P.M. - I find a Moe’s Southwest Grill in the airport and proceed to crush a chicken burrito with the type of vigor and enthusiasm rarely seen outside of the porn industry.

4:57 P.M. - I step out of the airport and onto the curb to hail a cab.  There are no cabs anywhere.  There is only the $8.00 shuttle bus that stops at every casino (and will take 2 hours to get to my hotel), and a private car service that will charge me $39.00 to take me two miles to Planet Hollywood.  Exhausted from the 41-minute flight from Burbank, I choose to ball out and take the Town Car.
When my Lincoln pulls up, a guy named “Manny” jumps out and greets me.   As soon as we drive off, we start to poly.  Not your typical cheesy taxi convo, but cool shit as if I had known this guy for years.  I find out Manny actually lived in L.A. for over a decade.  We exchange L.A.  glory and horror stories.  In addition, Manny imparts his “Best Italian restaurants in Studio City” knowledge.  I soak it up.
Just before pulling up to Planet Hollywood, I explain that I am in town with my entire family celebrating my little brother’s 21st birthday.  Manny then lets me know that he has connects at nearly all of the clubs around the city.  He hands me a business card and tells me to call him if I ever need help getting into a spot.  I know immediately that I will be calling him, so I put the info into my phone, jump out of the car, and then tip extremely large (so he’ll answer my phone calls when we need help getting up in the clubs).

5:01 P.M. – I get in line to check in and then text the fam (who are already checked in and gambling) that my face is up in the place.

5:56 P.M. – After a 45-minute wait to check in, I grab my room keys and hug all five family members.

5:58 P.M. – I hand out the party favors I brought for the trip, disposable flasks.  This is dope, because Planet Hollywood gives you a free full-size bottle of your choice of mid-grade spirit when you check in.  Between our three rooms, the six of us have a bottle of rum and two bottles of Skyy…and disposable flasks to help us crush them (patting self on back…).

6:02 P.M. - After hearing me sing the songs’ chorus in my infamous falsetto, my mom tells me that “Lemonade” by Gucci Mane is her favorite current song.

I know, right?!?!  I have the coolest mom dukes in the world.

But, the really crazy part is that as soon as moms tells me this, she starts singing Trey Songz’s verse from the “Lemonade” remix.

Just kidding---but that would have been dope.


6:09 P.M. – The entire fam mobs down to the main floor to grab some Mexican food.  During dinner, we are watching the NCAA games on tv.  We almost went to the sports book to wager beforehand, but the line was serious, so we skipped and hit the food spot.  This part blows, because I would have put $250 each on Butler, Washington and Tennessee.  I would have won two and lost one, so I would have had roughly $250 of head start in my hands before even unwrapping the hand soap in my room.

7:42 P.M. – The fam moves from the Mexican restaurant to the sports bar next door to get some beverages and watch the NCAA tournament on bigger screens.

9:44 P.M. – The fam hits the casino floor.  I have never played anything other than a slot machine, so me and baby-brother agree to let our brother-in-law teach us how to DOUGIE play roulette.  We all buy in for $40 expecting to lose it all and chalk it up to ”Entertainment” expenses.

10:09 P.M. – Stuart and I are both hemorrhaging chips and bro-in-law has more than doubled his stack.  It’s at this point that I commence chastising the bastard that married my sister for each and every winner he plays.  It was only seconds before the other two guys at the table-that were NOT related to us-joined in the verbal abuse.

10:13 P.M. – Stuart is bleeding to death, I have climbed back on top with some RED/BLACK winners, and bro-in-law has safely cashed out $50 richer than he came in (and I begin a lengthy explanation of why I hate him).

10:15 P.M. – After failing several other times with various dollar amounts, I finally hit a $2 bet on RED 19 that pays me $35.  I wore this number on the Baseball field in high school and figure I am the only one to ever use this logic to beat Las Vegas in roulette – and it’s working.  Roulette, Jesus what an easy game.  As soon as the chips come my way, I turn around and scream “Let’s get some batches over here!” (as if one $35 win is going to somehow draw one of those crowds you see in the movies at a Vegas Craps table).

10:17 P.M. – After cheating death several times, Stuart dries up.  So, at this point, I am up $45 and the only one in my family playing.  Since everyone looks bored, I decide to put aside the money I came in with and try to use my profit to make some seriousness.

10:18 P.M. - $25 bet on RED….aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand BLACK.

10:19 P.M. - $10 bet on BLACK….aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand RED.

10:19 P.M. – I take a couple of rounds off to change diapers.

10:21 P.M. – I put my remaining $10 on RED 19 one last time.  This way, I am either going to win $350 dollars and head straight to the Spearmint Rhino for the dinner buffet, or go hang out with my family.

(C’mon RED 19 you fickle BITCH!)...........aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand double f-ckING ZERO!

I scream “You’ve got to be f-cking F-CKING me” and walk away from the table like the two of us just broke up.  If the table had been lighter, I might have flipped the bitch over.  At the very least, I still have $40 in chips in my pocket that I came in with, so I guess I got a free Roulette lesson and an hour of free entertainment (but this was not the time to explain either of those things to me).


10:22 P.M. – Walking back to the rooms to gear up for an evening stroll down the strizzy to see the lights.

10:49 P.M. – Standing outside the doors to both my mom and my sister’s rooms, mom dukes brings to my attention that my sister and her husband have decided to go to bed, and will not be joining us.  I totally understand that it’s almost 3:00 A.M. in Florida where they come from, but nonetheless I call my sister and her husband “throbbing vaginas” and begin my walk to the elevator.

10:55 P.M. – Walking down the strip…

10:58 P.M. – Trying to figure out how the people handing out flyers for prostitutes make that “snap” sound with the cards in their hands.

11:07 P.M. – Hey, it’s The Flamingo…

11:12 P.M. – Caesar’s! (“This isn’t THEE Caesar’s Palace, is it?  Did Caesar live here?”)

11:18 P.M. – Bellagio fountains…

11:30 P.M. – Stuart and I are back in our room deciding which club to go to.

11:38 P.M. – While talking about clubs and watching SportsCenter highlights, I get very sleepy.

11:39 P.M. – Stuart goes to the bathroom.

11:41 P.M. – Stuart comes out of the bathroom and I’m half asleep with my left hand over my face.

11:58 P.M. – It’s nearing midnight and Steezy is watching a marathon of “Fantasy Factory” on MTV.   I slap myself awake as I realize that we are all in Las Vegas to celebrate my brother’s 21st birthday and I should be taking him out to party.

12:01 A.M. – I go to the bathroom to splash some water on my face to help me get over the hump.

12:03 A.M. – I come out of the bathroom and am feeling my third wind coming on strong.

12:03 A.M. - Stuart is now asleep with his right hand over his face.

12:04 A.M. – I yell at LL Steezy to wake up so we can talk clubs.  Steez makes the executive decision to call it a night, adjust to being three time zones West of where he lives, and hit it hard the next night.
 
His birthday, his call. 
But, for the official record, I made it over the hump and was ready to pop shamp Thursday night.

12:10 A.M. – Stuart is almost asleep and I make him get up to help me put my sheets that I bring from home onto my hotel room bed.  Stuart is less than enthusiastic, but he has known me his whole life-so he spares us both the pointless speech about my O.C.D.

12:26 A.M. – Stuart is way gone and I am wide awake watching “Fantasy Factory” by myself.

12:30 A.M. – “Fantasy Factory”…

1:00 A.M. – “Fantasy Factory”…

1:30 A.M. – “Fantasy Factory”…

2:00 A.M. – “Fantasy Factory”…

2:30 A.M. – “Fantasy Factory”…

3:00 A.M. – “Fantasy Factory”…

3:30 A.M. – “Fantasy Factory.”  Ooh, the episode with John Mayer; I’ve never seen this one before.  Score.

4:00 A.M. – “Fantasy Factory”…


4:01 A.M. – “Fantasy Factory” marathon is over and MTV turns to “Nitro Circus.”  No, thank you.

4:02 A.M.  – I know my family members will be awake in about four hours, so I get ready for bed.

4:37 A.M. – Lights out.

4:37 A.M. – SHIT, I forgot to put the “DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the door.

4:38 A.M. – laying in bed listening to my brother grind his teeth and trying to fall asleep.

6:?? A.M. – I’m finally asleep.



Friday.



9:21 A.M. – Being a light sleeper, I awaken to my brother moving around in the bathroom.  I listen closer and notice that his iPod is playing Daft Punk’s “Digital Love.”  I would be mondo-stoked about this if it were five hours later in the day.

10:00 A.M. – My family is cruising the strip and my Twilight-ass is still posted in the bed (I work the night shift for a living).

1:57 P.M. –I wake up and text the fam.  Wouldn’t you know it, they are going back to the same Mexican restaurant for nachos.  Yes, please.

2:15 P.M. – Nachos and laughs.

3:36 P.M. – Mobbing deep through the mall at Planet Hollywood. 

3:42 P.M. – Some fat guy is laying on his stomach and getting a tattoo on his back in the front of some tat parlor in the mall that has the workbench right in the front window of the store.  I get that they do it to attract customers, I’m just saying it’s not always a good idea.  For example, it’s not a good idea---when you just ate an entire plate of nachos and you turn the corner to see some 380-pound biker getting a tramp stamp of a unicorn or some shit on his lower back fat.  Not a good look, tat parlor.  Not a good look at all.

3:53 P.M. - I almost buy three pairs of Creative Recreations, but decide to wait until I get back to L.A. because I don’t want to lug three shoe boxes home.

4:07 P.M. – I cop two ties and a watch at ALDO.  Does anyone else realize that, while ALDO’s shoes are fresh, they are the least dope thing they sell? 

4:08 P.M. - The sales lady at ALDO was very hot and very flirtatious, so as a birthday present to my brother, I invite her out to party with us that night.

4:09 P.M. – The hot/flirtatious sales lady explains to me that she is not old enough to get into a club.  Immediately, my hands go up (no foul, ref, no foul!).  Shocked and speechless, I mumble something that sounds Russian, pluck my AMEX from her underage right hand, grab my brother by the collar and get ghost. 

5:10 P.M. – In the casino watching my Bro-in-law go down in flames playing Roulette.  Justice at last!

8:18 P.M. – The six of us head back to the rooms to pool our collective room furniture, crank some NCAA tourney, and fire up a game of euchre. 

9:39 P.M. – I have drank two shots of vodka on the rocks in a solo cup and lost one game of euchre to my sister and her huz.  At one point, my B-I-L dealt himself the five highest cards in the deck and went alone for four points.  If you asked him, I’m not sure he would say it was worth getting open-handedly slapped on top of his shaved dome by me for doing so, but nevertheless, he did it.  Crooked bastard.

10:32 P.M. – I have drank a third and fourth shot of vodka on the rocks in the same solo cup and pulled even to a game apiece in the euchre tournament.

10:51 P.M. – Stuart and I head back to our room to get fresh for the club.

10:53 P.M. – We decide Tryst is the destination.
10:54 P.M.  – LL Steezy iTuneses me some Lil Wayne “Steady Mobbin’(Feat. Gucci Mane)” and I’m zonin’.

11:11 P.M. – We each do a shot and then fill up our flasks and head downstairs to hail a cab to Wynn.

11:40 P.M. – In line at Wynn for Tryst and the bitch is juiced. 

11:42 P.M. - I’m half-wasted after drinking four shots in an hour during the card game and taking another before we left our room, so of course I start in on the full flask of vodka in my back pocket (knowing it could be confiscated at any time by security).

11:43 P.M. – LL Steezy and I make immediate contact with the groups of girls behind and in front of us in hopes that they will tack us on to their parties and help us cut the hour-long line.

11:49 P.M. – The group of eight girls and two guys in front of us get called out to cut the line and jump into the club.  Stuart and I plead for the girls to tell the staff that we are with them.  The girls not only failed to get us in, but they left the two guys they brought with them standing with us.  It’s amazing how women forget who their friends are when a velvet rope opens up in front of them (shaking head in disgust…).

11:50 P.M. – Waiting in line…

11:58 P.M. – One of the stranded guys in front of us sees me taking shots out of the plastic DisposaFlask and alerts me that it might be the coolest thing he has ever seen.  He then begs me to let him photograph it with his phone.  I oblige.

12:02 A.M. – A group of five girls is being ushered through to the club to the left side of the cattle chute where we are standing.  I ask one of them to please be kind to me and my brother (who is celebrating his birthday) and let us ride her beautiful coattail into the club.  She looks at me like I’m street trash and tells me that she’s “sorry.”  I tell her that she is lucky that she brought her pretty friends with her tonight, or she and her fake-ass manolos would still be standing in the parking lot.

12:24 A.M. – We FINALLY make it to the front of the line with two other guys that got left behind by their chick friends and we start wondering if the four of us are ever going to get in. 

12:25 A.M. - I realize that my flask (which holds five shots) is empty.  I somehow drank it all in 45 minutes.

12:33 A.M. – The ropes part and me and LL Steezy are up in the plizzy plizzy.

12:34 A.M. - $30 apiece, but about to be totally worth it.  I pay both fares cuz it’s bay-bro’s 21st birthday and I have placed him on scholarship for the night.

12:35 A.M. – We get our hands stamped and run down the tunnel like we were just announced for the starting lineup.

12:35 A.M. – As soon as we step in Jay-Z’s “On To The Next One” is banging and the place is electric as f-ck.

12:35 A.M. – Stuart and I make eye contact and head straight for the middle.

12:36 A.M. – As soon as we get to the middle, the DJ drops “P.S.A.” like he somehow knew we had just stepped in the bitch.  He may have been tipped off by the way the ladies were reacting to our sheer presence (charisma, thy names are “Todd” and “LL Steezy”)

12:36 A.M. – “Allow me to re-introduce myself, my name is HOV!”

12:36 A.M. – (Diamond signs up.  I’m talkin’ WAY up.)

12:37 A.M. – Straight into Jay and Alicia “NY, NY.”  I couldn’t believe how huge that record went over in the club that night.  Wowza.

12:38 A.M. – Diamonds still inna di atmospheeeeeeere.

12:41 A.M. – T.I.’s “Swing Your Rag” comes on and Stuart and I completely lose it.

12:50 A.M. – At the bar.  A shot apiece and cocktails to hold.  I’m ten shots deep now and holding a Belvedere on the rocks.  I begin yelling “VEGAAAAAAAAS” at my brother every three minutes from this point forward.

12:51 A.M. – Waiting to pay my bar tab and the DJ drops Guetta’s “Memories (Armand Van Helden Vocal Remix – Feat. KiD CuDi).”  Stuart and I start bouncing at the bar and everyone looks at us like they wish they were having as much fun.

12:53 A.M. – WordsByTodd “VEGAAAAAAAAS” @LLSteezy.

12:54 A.M. – On the dancefloor screaming “All the crazy shit I did toniiiiiiiiiiiiiight, those will be the best memorieeeeeeeeeeees.”

12:55 A.M. - Bay-bro is surrounded by eight 21-year-olds from UCLA that are messing up his hair and passing around his Faux-Ban glasses.  At this point, I have one of those moments where I realize that my brother and I are doing exactly what he came to Las Vegas to do on his 21st birthday.  I know we are in the middle of a moment in time that will be forever etched in his memory and I am overcome with joy.

12:56 A.M. – I forget about the “big brother” moment I was having because the DJ drops the Steve Aoki remix to KiD CuDi’s “Pursuit of Happiness.”  (screaming…).

1:25 A.M. – Back to the bar for one more round.  I get Déjà vu as the DJ drops DJ Class’ “I’m The Shit (Remix – Feat. Kanye West) because I am standing in the same spot, at the same bar, inside the same club as when this same song came on during my 2nd ever trip to Vegas.  Weird.

1:38 A.M. – We’re back in the middle of it and screaming every word to “Steady Mobbin.”

1:49 A.M. – I finish my drink and have no idea what to do with the cup.  I realize how long it takes to make it off the dancefloor to safely dispose of it and I have zero interest in doing so for fear of never finding my brother again.  I contemplate throwing my cup on the ground, but my feet routinely leave the floor when a new song comes on and I don’t want a drunken ankle twist to plague the rest of my trip.

1:50 A.M. – My glass goes over my right shoulder, over the pool railing and into Tryst’s waterfall (see “12:54 A.M.”).

2:30 A.M. – After two solid hours of screaming, dancing and drinking, we mutually decide to leave.

2:31 A.M. – I almost immediately pull a 180 and beg Stuart to stay for “just a couple more songs.”

2:52 A.M. – Audi 5000.

2:53 A.M. – Ducking the paparazzi, rabid “Pray For Hotness” fans and various other hangers-on outside the club.

3:24 A.M. – Our cab somehow arrives back at Planet Hollywood.  I am not certain how, since when the driver asked me “Where to?” I believe I answered, “I don’t care.”

3:30 A.M. – At the sandwich shop at Planet Hollywood placing our orders.

3:31 A.M. – Stuart grabs four bottles of Aquafina, caresses them like a pet recently returned in exchange for reward money, and carries them to the cashier.

3:31 A.M. – I laugh at how funny it is watching a drunk person carry four bottles of Aquafina.

4:06 A.M. – Two footlong sandwiches and four bottles of water are now a just a memory.


4:10 A.M. – Stuart gets a phone call from mom dukes explaining that she and my step-father are leaving a day early to head back to Florida.  We’re weirded out because we just got home from the club and they are out at the same taxi stand we just got back from-trying to score a ride to the airport.  This type of thing is fascinating when your B.A.L. is four times the legal limit.      



Saturday.



5:30 P.M. – Me, LL, my sister and her husband (the only remaining members of our party) cab over to The Mirage to get ready for the “Cirque Du Soleil: Love” show (yeah, the one with The Beatles’ music). 

5:44 P.M. – We realize we are an hour and a half early for the show and decide to knock down some California Pizza Kitchen before we take our seats.

6:32 P.M. – We exit CPK and move next door to the Sports Book, where Kentucky is getting their perm peeled by West Virginia.

6:41 P.M. – I realize Ray J is standing five feet away from me.

6:41 P.M. – I realize Ray J is as tall as my femur.

 
6:42 P.M. – I ask myself “Why the hell is Ray J at The Mirage?”

6:47 P.M. – Ray J walks into the CPK we just exited.

6:47 P.M. – Ray J walks up to a table of eight women and starts very matter-of-factly explaining to his woman of choice that he is interested in her, sexually…while her seven friends are listening.  It’s at this point that I begin to marvel at three things:  1) how Ray J just went one-on-eight like it wasn’t even a thing, 2) how Ray J is standing while the woman he is talking to is seated-and she is still taller than he is and 3) how none of this even fazes the kid.  What a champion.  Next time we roll to Nevada, imma Twitter his ass and see if he wants to roll with.  It’s good to have a guy like that in your crew.


7:14 P.M. – sitting in our seats at the Cirque Du Soleil show.

7:17 P.M. – I shake my brother for his iPhone because he has a euchre app.

7:18 P.M. – I’m getting worked in iPhone euchre because my virtual partner is a dumbass---thus causing me to weave a tapestry of curse words I feel went unappreciated by the families that paid $120 a seat to sit next to us.  Classy.

7:31 P.M. – The Cirque show starts.

7:32 P.M. – We’re only 60 seconds in and I have already burned the “The ‘shrooms are turning on me, man” line.  No one laughs except for my brother .  Everyone else can suck me.

7:35 P.M. – “Eleanor Rigby….”  (this is my favorite Beatles song).

7:56 P.M. – “Here Comes The Sun, Doon, Doon, Doo Doo…”  (no, this is my favorite Beatles song).

8:04 P.M. – THE WHITE SHEET! (if you’ve seen the show, you know what this means.  If you haven’t, holy shhhhhhh!)

8:04 P.M. – As the white sheet comes out, I yell “I’m trippin’ balls, man,” even though I’m sober.
No one laughs (suck me…).

8:09 P.M. – “Yesterday…” (no, this is my favorite Beatles song).

8:25 P.M. – “Hey Jude…” (No, THIS is my favorite Beatles song).

8:32 P.M. – The show concludes and we walk out with blown minds discussing the happenings.

10:05 P.M. – Steezy and I are back in our room blasting Drake’s “So Far Gone” mixtape and chugging what’s left of our rum and vodka bottles, respectively. 

10:16 P.M. – Stuart pulls out the iron in our room to iron a shirt.  I explain that I do not even own and iron, and have not actually seen one up close since 1998.

11:07 P.M.  –Stuart and I decide to keep it local and hit up club Prive at Planet Hollywood where we are staying.  No cabs, no fuss.

11:33 P.M. – We get in line at Prive and it’s already deep.

12:20 A.M. – We get to the cash register and it’s $40 apiece.  Really Prive?  Your spot is not even close to that hot (more on this later).

12:22 A.M. – We’re pacing the perimeter and looking for a jump-off point.  As we swing past the V.I.P. section, I feel someone grab my arm.  I look back and it’s Manny, my driver from the airport. 

12:22 A.M. - Manny scoops us into his friend’s table area.  I introduce Manny to my brother and greetings are exchanged.

12:23 A.M. – The staff drops off three bottles of Belvedere and a bucket of ice.

12:34 A.M. – Manny makes drinks for the three of us and we toast to the good life.

1:10 A.M. – DJ Drops Plies’ “Becky.”  Some girl in our VIP area is surprised that me and Steezy are killing every word.  In my mind I chuckle at this young woman, because she obviously has no idea who she is dealing with.  This girl is experiencing the equivalent of running into Kobe Bryant at a YMCA basketball court, not recognizing him, and looking surprised when he makes every shot.  THIS IS WHAT I DO.

[SIDEBAR:  We are not usually big fans of Plies.  The only real time he comes up in conversation between my brother and I is when either Plies or B.G. comes out with a new album and we are forced to revisit the topic of “Gayest Facial Expression Ever Used As An Album Cover Photo” (which these two perpetually battle it out for in a category all their own).]


1:19 A.M. – Trey Songz’s “Say Ahh” comes on and has the VIP area getting outlandish.  I am screaming the lyrics as loud as I can (shocking, I know).

1:21 A.M. – I can’t feel my face.

1:27 A.M. – DJ Drops Drake’s “Loonies To Blow (A-Trak Remix)” and my hands go up as if Swizz Beatz had just stepped in the club (props if you got this reference).

1:30 A.M. – Stuart and I decide to leave the VIP and hit the floor.

1:42 A.M. -  DJ drops California Swag District’s “Teach Me How To Dougie” and everyone on the floor acts surprised that I know it’s coming while the song before it is still playing.  They really freak when I start to “D-Town Boogie.”  It was at this point that I decide the place can’t hold me.

2:09 A.M. – “Hop up out da beeeeeeeeeeeeeeed, turn my swag ooooooon…”

2:21 A.M. - DJ drops “Beamer, Benz or Bentley.”  We have been waiting on this record all weekend-so things get ignorant in a hurry.  We completely shut the dancefloor down.
2:22 A.M. – Sadly, security asks me to put my shirt back on.

2:32 A.M. – We head back to the VIP to give Manny dap.  I tell Manny that I will be calling him every time I come to Nevada from this point forward.  He tells me “Do it, man.  And shit, if it’s my day off, I’ll come get you in my Beamer.”  We all laugh and then me and Steezy flee the scene. 

2:37 A.M. – (Ducking the paps…)

2:39 A.M. – Same sandwich shop.  Same sandwiches.  Four more Aquafinas.


Sunday.


9:57 A.M. – My sister (whose husband left a few hours earlier to catch a flight) bangs on the door to make sure me and bay-bro wake up in time to check out.  She enters the premises to find a disaster area that, simply put, looks like a hangover.

10:04 A.M. – Rock, paper, scissors to see who has to wake up first and shower.  I lose and curse passionately.

10:17 A.M. – I exit the bathroom rapping the first lines to Plies’ “Plenty Money” (“What’s in my pocket dawg?  BIG FACE HUNNEDZ.  Just left the mall, bought everything that I wanted.”).  It is the first of roughly 214 times I will spit this line in the next three hours.

10:54 A.M. – We speed pack and race to beat the 11:00 A.M. checkout.

10:59 A.M. – We check out.  Always on time…like Ja Rule and Ashanti.

11:01 A.M. - “What’s in my pocket dawg?  BIG FACE HUNNEDZ.  Just left the mall, bought everything that I wanted.” 

11:04 A.M. – Bagels and juice downstairs.

11:53 A.M. – Me, Steezy and sister cab to the Venetian to check it out.

11:54 A.M. - “What’s in my pocket dawg…”
 
12:07 P.M. – We enter the Venetian and begin to follow the indoor river.

12:11 P.M. – We have walked the entire river in four minutes-and are completely over it.

12:13 P.M. - “What’s in my pocket dawg…”

1:03 P.M. – Venetian food court meals and poking fun at the tourists…

1:45 P.M. – I say my goodbye to my sister and brother and catch a cab to the airport.

2:55 P.M. - I see Ian Ziering at the airport and wonder the following:
1 – How the breezy he has with him is 1) so young and 2) so hot.
2 – How much the residual checks he is still getting from Beverly Hills 90210 reruns are for.
3 – Why the guitar line in the BH90210 theme song is so fire!

3:26 P.M. – Zoning out to my iPod.  Cold Blank, Pray For Hotness, Sam Cooke, The Cataracs, Treasure Fingers, Swedish House Mafia…

5:30 P.M. – I touch down in Burbank, CA.

6:16 P.M. – My cab drops me off and I’m home at last.

6:22 P.M. – In the shower.

6:47 P.M. – En route to Santa Monica to meet a friend for a late dinner down by the beach (damn, jet-setting takes it out of you).


Parting Shots.


Don’t ever go to Prive. 
It’s as- if not more expensive than every other club.  Meanwhile, it is just as plain as every other club you have ever been inside in your life.  In Las Vegas, you have so many club options with “Wow” factor you don’t see every day.  For example, Tryst has a convertible top (“Damn, where’d my roof just go?”), 100-foot waterfall and enormous dancefloor.  Moon at The Palms is on the rooftop of the joint and offers views of all of Las Vegas.  When you can pay $30 to get up in the dope clubs that you don’t see every day, why would you pay $40 to go to Prive and stare at a bunch of sausage in a club that looks like a nightspot you would see in a Missouri strip mall?  I’m so mad at myself right now for taking my brother to Prive.

Go see the Cirque Du Soleil show “Love.”  And when you do, get the cheap seats at the top of the arena.  The arena is really small, so when you are in the nosebleeds, you are actually only about 120 feet from the center of the stage.  I felt like the people sitting really close missed out on some of the larger features (namely, the white sheet) that those of us sitting in the back were able to take in comfortably due to our wider angle.  Get the cheap seats!

Yes, it was hard to spend $120 to see a bunch of dudes in tights rollerskate (especially when I knew that, at that very moment, for the same price I could be at The Palms watching Jay-Z + swinging my shirt above my head like a helicopter).  But, it was a fun Vegas-type thing to do with the fam.  Just make sure that if you do see a Cirque production that it is “Love.”  After the show, I explained to my family how dope I thought it was, but that I couldn’t imagine how much it would have blown if the music was some goofy, 125 BPM Tribal nonsense that didn’t engage me (like all the other CDS shows).  Having that Beatles soundtrack banging throughout really kept me in the game.  Had it not been for the recognizable music, I probably would have dipped out 20 minutes in to hit up CPK and see what kind of headway Ray J was making.

Roulette, we shall meet again.  Next time, I am bringing my RED 19 jersey out of retirement.   It is coming down off the wall, out of its frame, and I am stuntin’ it in the casino.  You have no chance.


Music notes from Nevada. 



1 - Jay-Z is still the mother of all f-ckers in any club.  Point-blank period.

2 - I think I went harder on Trey Songz’s “Say Ahh” than any other record all weekend.   That thing gets hotter every time I hear it. 

3 – The “How Did I NOT Hear That Record In The Club Even Once During The Trip” award goes to = Gucci Mane – “Lemonade.”  It’s a shame, too.  I was ready to get ignorant.

4 – The “Song I Thought Would Go Harder In A Vegas Club” award goes to = David Guetta – Memories (Armand Van Helden Remix – Feat. KiD CuDi).”  Granted, I was going banana pancakes when this song came on, but no one else in the club reacted like they had been waiting on it all night like me.  Boo. Oh well, I got mine.

5 – During some downtime in the hotel room, my brother introduced me to a monster rap duo out of L.A. called “U-N-I.”  Since then, I have 1) dealt with the embarrassment of not knowing about them first-especially because they live in my city and 2) ordered their album online and bumped it every day.  Look for an Audio Muffin post on these two real freakin’ soon.



So, that’s it for my third date with Las Vegas.  As of press time, there is no plan for trip #4.  I will pass any and all plans for #4 along as it becomes available to me.

You’re welcome,





[SCORING OPPORTUNITY:  If you can tell me how many shots I drank the night/morning we went to Tryst, post a comment and receive your points.  Standard scoring rates apply.]

Friday, April 2, 2010

Movie Review #1: "Valentine's Day"


I finally saw the movie.  As a reward for everyone, I figured I would write up a quick review.
Overall, the plot was for the most part believable, and at the same time, the road less traveled.  As an added bonus, they were able to hold a couple of surprises until the very end. These sorts of things do not happen very often in romantic comedies and I am appreciative.
Now that I work in television, I pay close attention to camera angles, shot selection and continuity.  With that in mind, I can easily say this is one of the most poorly edited big-budget films I have ever seen.  There was an abundance of bad cuts in this film, but the one that bothered me most was the “North Hollywood” scene (not surprising if you know where I live).  One minute Hector Elizondo is whipping his Cadillac CTS North on Lankershim boulevard under the egregious, nuclear yellow “NoHo” sign, and in the next shot he is driving West in some other neighborhood in Los Angeles.  Admittedly this jumped out at me because I live about three blocks north of the ugly “NoHo” sign, and was able to easily recognize the break in continuity (because if they had stayed with the shot sequence, Hector would have driven right past my building in the shot after the close-up of the sign).  What’s wrong people, were the next three blocks of North Hollywood too real for you?  
Continuing with my negative comments, and this one is no fault of the filmmakers, but I was not happy to see Hector Elizondo attending a Cinespia screening.  The reason I am pissed is because it is one of the coolest things to do during the summer in L.A. – and because of this, it is crunkalicious every weekend.  Now, after having been featured in an enormously popular film, I figure Cinespia will be even more packed this summer…and the majority of the newcomers are probably going to be tourists.  So, thanks for that.
Continuing on…
I like George Lopez.  He seems like a genuinely nice man.  Also, I typically find him to be funny (unless it is during the monologue on his current show).  Further, George did great work in this film.  He was able to dial back the comedy and act like a regular guy that was believable as Reed’s best friend.  But, after viewing “Valentine’s Day,” I personally feel that Mr. Lopez needs to be more judicious about the way he is lit in his scenes.  Something about being outside in the Cali sunshine in a pink hoodie made the skin on his face look like it caught on fire and someone put it out with a 9-iron.
Taylor Swift was hot, but that was about it.  Before you start firing up your hate emails in defense of America’s sweetheart, hear me out.  I have a very high opinion of Swifty.  She lives her life surrounded by paparazzi and somehow manages to do so with the utmost grace, even at her tender age.  Her last album was fire, and I don’t really even listen to Country music (unless it’s George Strait).  Further, she was surprisingly versatile and undeniably hilarious when she hosted Saturday Night Live (her monologue, her Shakira impersonation).  I realize how much sense it made to cast her in this role, but she just did not seem ready.  She took “ditzy, blonde teen cheerleader” so far over the top that I had to look away on more than one occasion.  She was at 241 when all she needed was 30.  I am not sure if director Garry Marshall somehow thought her performance was really dialed in, or if he was simply reluctant to actually direct Ms. Swift.  Or, maybe he directed his balls off and she gave him nothing but “yuck” in return (this seems most likely).  Either way, TS ruined a large part of this film for me (still looking forward to your next album though, boo).
I was happy to see that Jessica Alba was finally in a movie that I would attend while sober.  I was unhappy when I saw how underwhelming her role was.  They didn’t give her a lot to work with, so she was not able to show her true talent (breasts).  Either way, I hope this is a sign of roles to come for Jessica.  In the meantime, I will continue my attempts to telekinetically impregnate her.  I remain convinced that I am her child’s father.

Well, I guess that is about it.

I feel like this really sucked,