Blogger Convention Part Deux: More Vegas Adventures

By Mink

As you should be able to gather from SingerZ's post last week, our blogger convention in Vegas was nothing short of glorious. As anyone who travels on business will tell you, the comps make it all worthwhile. So I am proud to say that we cleaned in the comp department on this trip.

While my cousin was slumming at the Wynn Hotel for a JP Morgan business trip, our famous little blog hooked us up with 3 nights free (albeit with the purchase of a higher priced flight on travelocity) at the arguably more glamorous Tropicana Resort. Even if the television was the same size as a Watchman I received as a Bar Mitzvah present and there was a trace of blood on my pillow cover, the Trop honestly was quite charming. Besides the hotel deal, the convention also managed to hook us up with comp peanuts on the airplane, a comp bikini mud-wrestling show, and best of all comp drinks at every casino 24-7! All this comping was great except that it kinda forced me into making such wise decisions as the 3AM Red Bull and Vodka.

Anyway here are the rest of the Vegas action shots:
















From the moment we were given those comp peanuts we were treated like rock stars....These lovely blog babes greeted us at the airport to help us with our stuff and take us over to strip...I mean the strip.



Throughout the trip SingerZ loved getting overly chummy (yes I used that word) with inanimate objects and that is all I can say about this one. Ok I will say one more thing. My semi-straddle pose here just seemed logical at the time. And to explain that I must again make reference to Red Bull and Vodka.

The rest of these shots (and photos) were taken during a 30 minute stretch at the end of our last night. I will refer to this sequence as the Downward Spiral:



4 southern girls and the new Juris Doctor of love. This would have to be looked at as Zev's peak moment of the evening. But from here things did take a bit of a downward spiral.



After boring the ladies with the usual over-analysis of his poker exploits and law school stories, SingerZ watches the gals disapear into the bright Vegas night. And yes kids Zev is sitting down on the escalator here.


Mild depression sets in as SingerZ contemplates the one that got away. And obviously I am not referring to the ladies but rather his last hand of poker. And yes kids Zev is lying down on the escalator here.


After a rough 20 minutes SingerZ decides to call it a night as he dozes off alone in his bed at the Tropicana Resort.


Well this wraps up our trials and tribulations from Nevada. This rough patch aside, the Vegas Vaca was a great success (say it in Borat voice if you prefer) and with your financial support we plan on attending many more such conventions.

Blogger Convention Part 1: Viva Las Vegas

by singerz

For those big blog fans out there (both of you), you know that we have had two previous blogger conventions. This year, as the Garbage Dump’s financial situation is simply FLYING, we decided to take our convention on the road. And where better to do a convention than…wait for it…wait…a little longer…almost there now…this is getting annoying Zev…New Jersey. No no, VEGAS my friends. That’s right, Mink and I packed our sunscreen and mouthwash, had them confiscated at the airport by the dicks who think terrorists use sunscreen and mouthwash, bought more sunscreen and mouthwash at CVS, and went to VEGAS!

So where to begin? People seem to think that we spent 4 days straight completely drunk. That allegation is out and out…kind of true. But let me clarify, we were not drunk for 4 days, we were in a perpetual haze of tipsy grogginess and delight for 4 days. I’d be surprised if most normal human creatures could sustain the alcohol consumption that Mink and I experienced, but, alas, we live on. Wavering on that thin line between the normal sobriety of human society and the idiocy of drunken lunancy is not easy to do. We did it for over 80 hours. Impressed?

Here is an extremely awkward pose of Mink and I holding our “mai tai’, a drink consisting of vodka, rum, schnapps, tequila, scotch, bourboun, beer, liquor, mikes hard lemonade, and Zima. That’s what the strange old man at the pool told us. Then he asked Mink if he could put lotion on Mink’s back. Long story. I too winced when I saw this awkward picture, but a true blogger holds nothing back:

Now, many people have asked me if I gambled on this trip. Forreal? Sharing a room with Mink for four whole days? Biggest gamble of my life. Did it pay off? Depends on what you mean pay off, suckah. Actually, no, it doesn’t depend what you mean. It didn’t pay off.

One of the highlights of the trip for me was Mink’s insistence on approaching complete strangers, claiming that we were journalists filming a documentary, and asking to take a picture with them, Here are some examples:

Mink told this couple that we were making a documentary. Two major problems: 1) Why would a documentary-making-journalist take a random picture with an Indian couple walking around a casino? 2) Why would his photographer, yours truly, be giggling like a schoolgirl with a rasperry lollipop as he snapped the photos?

And heres another one:

It seemed like this guy thought he was going to be famous from being in our “documentary”. And in case you are wondering why Mink is grabbing onto the phallic looking object that the man is holding, so am I folks, so am I.

So far sounds like a CRAAAZY trip, right? Like INSANELY WILD. Well just wait. Below is a picture of the night Mink and I went “clubbing.”


That’s what I’M talking about, Mink. WORK IT at the Tangerine Nightclub.

Stay tuned in the next week for part 2, where Mink gives his perspective on the convention, denies my allegation that he thought a hooker was actually hitting on him (true story, just ask Candy Cane-Ass, she'll tell you) and obviously some more absurd pictures. Peace.

On and Off the Record

By Mink

Don’t you love it when someone asks a question you weren't expecting and you answer it with the one you assumed they would ask? Since greetings often begin with a "how are you?" it is easier than you would think to get crossed up (especially if you are a special individual) Example:

Random Attractive Woman: Hey what’s up?
Me: Good how bout you?
Random Attractive Woman: Uh…..good.

While a tad embarrassing, the above scenario is an example of a harmless non-answer. The question-asker walks away baffled as she contemplates pointing out the absurdity of the response. But, usually she will just let it slide as she carries on the conversation. However, a non-answer can become more than awkward in the following type of situation:

Non-Random But Still Attractive Woman (this is my hypothetical, so clearly she is good looking): Did you hear that X has terminal brain cancer?
Me: Good how bout you?

For the record, the above interaction has yet to happen to me but it certainly is a very Minkovian exchange. I recently have taken quite a liking to this Minkovian adjective. Remarkably, it can be interpreted as self -promoting and self -deprecating at the same time.

Ok, now we can go off the record. Since we last spoke I have learned that:

• “Nappy" is not a nice word to say---Honestly before the Imus debacle "alright, im grumpy, its time for my nappy," was my way of announcing my daytime dozes. I also learned that Jew is a bad word in some parts of the country.

• People who say "I am so chilled out" are generally some of the more uptight and anal people that I know. Yet somehow they have all deluded themselves into thinking that if they say the magic "I’m so chilled" words, that people won't see the pole up their asses. Erroneous. Aside from the possible exception of alcohol consumption, it is impossible to hide one's analness. These type of poles all glow in the dark.

• My roommate, Benito, was drafted in the ninth round of the Israel baseball draft. Rumor has it he would have been a higher pick but some teams were scared off by these quotes after his tryout last summer:
• "I really am just looking for an opportunity to go to Israel and launch some bombs."
• "My favorite play in baseball is the suicide squeeze. It is just so unexpected and causes so much damage."
• "I have a cannon for an arm and I hope to gun down as many runners as possible."

• The legendary Solomon Milgrome passed away just a couple of weeks after I wrote about him here You can read more about him in the Baltimore Sun. Best quote in the article: "We don't live long enough to hate." That is coming from a man who lived to be 104. Rest in peace Milgroomp.