5 nights. 10 males. 3 females. Strippers. Limo. Beaker-Shots. 70's House. VEGAS.
You Know You're Drunk When...
* You attempt to sell shots while your girlfriend straddles your male friends. The promoter's accord: you sell a shot, you take a shot.
* You lick an obscene amount of salt from a stripper's nipples. You think it's hot.
* Your friends force you to exit the cab. You judge it a smart decision to run home. You sprint through a drug deal. A black man chases you half a mile.
* Following the half-mile-chase, FunHog Ranch allures you. The bouncer cautions you it is a gay bar, and even though a male, you accept that. You enter. You exit running.
* You borrow a stranger's phone and as a joke run away with it.
* By the conclusion of the five-night spree, as a male you've kissed more men than women.
* You initiate a dance party in the center of New York New York's casino at 4am while waiting for a table to become available at Hooters.
* You deem a twenty-seven-year-old virgin saving herself for marriage is a feasible feat.
* You dispense yourself across three chairs in front of a mechanical bull at a country bar. You lie unconscious until your friends forcibly remove you.
* In the car, after passing out across said chairs, you endeavor to climb out the moving car's window.
* You gratify your boyfriend with a lap dance. The chair breaks.
* You get halted at a checkpoint to the Hoover Dam at 5:30am complete with passed-out girl across back-seat, cowboy hat on head, and 6-pack of beer. All you are capable of: smiling.
* You distribute one dollar bills among your friends at the strip club like a mom doling out lunch money.