[toss]

We wake up completely refreshed despite last night's binge-fest. I remember drinking 5 Adios (my friends couldn't do a third round) and I was constantly drinking the whole day too. Surprisingly I did not vomit; just need to fade one more day and I'll have a non-vomit Vegas trip! Everyone else is hungry so we head to the best buffet in town: Circus Circus breakfast buffet... like hell we did. We went straight to the Wynn buffet. This Wynn guy really knows what he's doing. A hotel building that screams luxury, fancy-ass restrooms, and a godly buffet, if anyone says differently may he get hit in the crotch by a football. The staff is spectacular, the decor can't be match, the food is way too good for a buffet. I could eat 5 or 6 bowls of sweet potato pudding alone and the $25 price would be worth it. The roast beef gushed with flavorful blood and juices. The coconut ice cream paired with crushed butterfinger topping is almost enough to make you orgasm. I usually don't eat a lot in Vegas (I've always been like that), but I put away 4 dishes easy. After the meal we leaned back in our chairs and stared blissfully at the ceiling. One of my friend works a minimum wage job meaning it would take about 4 hours of work to pay for this meal. He said it was well worth it.

After hobbling out of The Buffet, I decide to give a little back to the Wynn and visit their restroom. Wynn's restroom... I felt like a king taking a dump. Marble everywhere you see, no hint of poop or piss stains anywhere, and it smells goot too. Stalls are separated in a way so you never hear that guy trying to pass a brick out of his ass. Wynn could charge $5 and I'd gladly pay for the pleasure. I could go on and on about the rest of Wynn, but I won't. You'll just have to see for yourself.

From Wynn to Circus Circus. Not as startling as my transition from Wynn to Stratosphere, but you get the point. It's like going from top-shelf booze at the titty bar to guzzling cheap cologne in dark dirty alley. We go find some carnival games because that's the only reason we would come here. The horse racing game with the balls. You know the one I'm talking about; roll a ball into some holes and have your horse finish first to win a prize. I hate that game so much just because I can never win. The girl of our group wins every single time, probably because she cheated. Yeah I'm bitter. We play more stupid rigged carnival games and I drop $20 pretty easily.

Ahh craps, how I love thee. You aren't rigged like those stupid carny games. We find a table downstairs and I order a Newcastle. They don't have that. Sam Adams? Nope. Any sort of brown ale? You wish. A Corona? Ding ding ding! More proof that the booze they serve matches with the clientèle. Craps Rule #5: Always bet the passline and back for full odds when a degenerate is rolling. A guy with a mullet and a Nascar racing cap grabs two of the five dice after placing a redbird on the passline. I also put down a redbird on the passline. He rolls the dice while shouting something degenerate. I couldn't tell what he was saying, but the way he said it was degenerate, I can tell you that much. He rolls a seven and I clap my hands once like a retarded seal. That's how I like to celebrate my gambling wins. He rolls a ten this time. I back for full odds and buy the six and the eight because I believe in my heart that he'll go on a heater; he ended rolling for more than 30 minutes. The table has swelled from 5 or 6 random people to 25+ degens high on action. My hands are sore from clapping so much. I'm up a couple hundred with only $6 on 8 and 6 plus the passline bets too. I have no idea how people running the craps table take care of all the bets. Chips were flying everywhere onto each and every one of the betting spaces. The craps jargon was being thrown around as much as the chips. The redneck shooter received a solid round of applause after he finally crapped out. In short, you haven't lived until you've been at a craps table with a red-hot shooter.

Next part: Sport betting. Monkey tilt poker.