By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
The next hour is spent fruitlessly searching for Club Utopia, the after-hours electronic-dance music spot famed for its cage dancers, laser lights and a party that never stops -- except, it seems, when the club is closed in the summer for remodeling.
Another hour disappears into the fog of an equally futile quest to find nickel slots on the Strip. The crew settles for a bank of quarter video-poker machines at a bar inside Harrah's, where the bartender pours the free drinks with a loose wrist and isn't too much of a stickler on the $10-an-hour play rule. Their goal is to get drunk for the plane ride home. But no matter how much they drink, the speed kills the relaxing effects of the alcohol. They lose coordination and slur their speech but claim to never feel a buzz. They're hollow-eyed, stinking of sour sweat, limbs trembling slightly from the fatigue their minds still cannot register, wasting quarters by trying to fill inside straight after inside straight. They frequently fall asleep in mid-conversation, then snap awake a few minutes later and pick up where they trailed off mid-sentence.
Depleted of lightbulbs and either unwilling or unable to head out to the Strip at dawn to buy more, they resort to snorting lines of crushed Shabu off the metal toilet-paper dispensers in the casinos restrooms. On the plane ride home, Nick, Ike and Bonnie all bleed from the nose.
Back at Nick's house, there are Otter Pop wrappers everywhere. Otter Pop wrappers on the hardwood floors, on the kitchen tile, on the toilet seats in all the bathrooms, in the sinks, on the turntables, on the couch cushions. They are hard, plastic, sticky, omnipresent evidence that something very strange and very wicked went down in this place.
And then there is Emile, passed out on the love seat in the parlor just inside the front door, shirtless, with what looks to be dried bright-blue goo smeared all over his bare chest. Judging by the Otter Pop wrapper dangling from his fingertips, he fell deep asleep mid-pop and then failed to wake as the blue ice melted on him, drip by drip.
The doors to the TV room are now open. The big screen displays the DVD menu for Gang Bang Angels.
Realizing that one hit isn't going to do much for them at this point, the Vegas vacationers each take three in quick succession.
Then the women spend the next three hours choreographing an elaborate and vaguely obscene dance routine to "Cameltoe" while Nick obligingly spins the single over and over and over and Marcus and Ike sit and watch and giggle.
Gang Bang Angels has been replaced by the Clint Eastwood spaghetti Western A Fistful of Dollars.
For a Few Dollars More is on deck.
Subdued by forty milligrams of Valium each, the fellowship of the pipe is splayed around the TV room on beanbags and cushions, listlessly eating soggy fruit like a bunch of drugged monkeys.
Ike, who is slowly building a three-tiered house of hooker cards, says, "Yo, that was fun while it lasted."
Heather: "Was it?"
They aren't promoting anything. Why is everyone such a whiney bitch. This is just a good article written to please the masses. It's no different the. Every time you pass fear and loathing over on Starz. You don't feel the need to spew pissyness about that do you? Jesus Christ go read an article about how dogs are mistreated and bitch about that.
So they have 5k to blow on good drugs, another with another 5k on party favors......... anything original here?
Well It Seems Like A Chord Was Struck With Some. To the long time reader lol deuces. The one who submitted a book over a year ago for review.. do I need to say more? Yeah please let's have another article about the green and microbrew lifestyle so we can all nap through it. Also not only Meth ruins lives. Alcohol, cigarettes and even women ruin lives.
I submitted a book to the Westword for a review over a year ago. Why don't you try fitting that in somewhere?
Wow, Hannah. Impressive that your vocabulary and spelling is pathetic and yet I'm the (brain cell void one of us) imbecile who doesn't understand the point of the article. If you read the article fully (which you don't seem capable of) you'd notice that not once does the author note the health hazards or risks associated with this kind of "partying". Instead the author celebrates the fact that the host and his cohorts choose to voluntarily spend three days high beyond comprehension, and since no one wants a Debbie Downer they stock the pantry with more illegal pills to bring you back from the brink...you're right I'm sorry I missed the part where we were bringing awareness to the using problem... As far as "stupid" I'm far from that my uneducated keyboard opponent. I actually hold a college degree and a full time job. What do you do? O.o
ashley, did you ever stop to think (im sorry...all your brain cells are dead from all the mary jane you smoked, so thats probably impossible), the reporter is bringing awareness to what this type of addiction does to people, rather than promoting it? O.o go smoke another blunt you stupid bitch, not like you can get any more stupid than you already are. you've done hit the wall on that.
I enjoy reading about green lifestyle and microbrew culture. But what kind of well-written garbage is this? Klassy. Bye, Westword.
Pretty sure I said illegal and illicit. I smoke green, whatever. But meth? I mean cover your face in sores, not even once, hide yo kids shit and they're posting an article about how funny it is? I mean come on?? You're telling me you think that we should promote meth use now?
Yeah! Let's keep it all very secret. In fact, let's just tell them all drugs are the same level of BAD. Totally worked for the 90s kids and DARE! \U0001f611
I wanna hear the rest of the story, like what happened that weekend? How does the rest of his life go?
That was interesting…Why do I like reading stuff like this…I don't know but I dig the willingness of Westword to get grimy.
Wtf!! The only shit you found to cover as a story!! You will write a story about anything!! Come to my house and spend the weekend with me and hang out in bathroom everytime i shit!!
What an incredible tale of modern decadence. A well represented microcosm of the ennui suffusing society.
It's a story of users on a binge. Much like On The Road by Jack Kerouac. They used 'bennies,' which essentially is meth, but it was found in inhalers back in the 40's and 50's. Drugs have always been an interesting part of American culture. I have never used meth myself, but this was a great story. Despite the fact that meth is a terrible drug, but it doesn't change the fact that this was well written and a fact of life is that dark, strange things live in the most unexpected places.
Meth is evil but that was a great article. Very well written - answers the question "how could anyone get hooked on that shit?" The answer is, everything can be fun at first - and almost anyone can innocently be susceptible to the allure of even the most devastating of substances - thanks westword.
Hey Westword, how about you don't post an article that glamorizes and encourages illegal and illicit activities that'll kill our kids. Mmmmkkk thanks :)
My response to this is, the article made it clear that the participants in this orgy of stupidity was both increasing in number and frequency. They are also using other drugs in addition to the meth. Pure or not, it is a highly addictive drug, and very, very expensive. So these "wealthy" people get a habit, and spend thousands of dollars a month on this. This is glorifying drug use because it shows young, stupid people with more income than sense- They can afford multiple illegal drugs, to take off to Vegas and party at the drop of a hat. People will over look what the author down played- smoking out of light bulbs, neurotic obsessive behaviors, and gross negligence of people traveling, driving, etc., while high as fuck. This is no better than a back alley meth addict who steals hub caps for drugs.