Ill cut to day two. Mostly because I’m still hungover and do not feel like writing about the first day. After surviving the first night, in which shockingly I won the drunken award, everybody rallied for day two.

Seeing as this was only a two-day event this was the most important day. I thought it would be a good idea to take everybody jet skiing. To get ready, a few of us did some shots a bit of drugs. (Ha – jet skiing on drugs is a wonderful combination.) Okay I forget how much jet skis attack your sack. The night before two Russian strippers were bouncing on my balls for an absolute bargain at $20 a piece. Now I’m on a jet ski and my little round soldiers are getting treated liked like a one of those balls on a paddle except the kid with paddle has ADD and OCD and loves to whack it really fucking hard. Add going plus 55mph on the ocean and you have some hurting nutties. Whoo fucking Hoo.

After a few beers, pounds of fried seafood at a back alley fish joint my balls felt better – a quick disco nap and off to a B level strip club we went.

We rented out our own couch and had a bottle of Jack waiting – Fuck – better hit the cash machine. You get the picture. Twenty’s – tittes – pussy- cocktails. Drunkenness

Okay I just puked again so I’m going to wrap this one up quick. Several hundred dollars, another bottle of Jack. More drugs, London the stripper rubbing my sack. After hours at a rum bar. Breakfast at 9am with a crazy Venezuelan chick and London the ball-rubbing stripper, I ran away and zigzagged home

My head hurts my feet stink and I don’t love Jesus. Ouch

P.S. if you ever leave me alone again with a crazy British stripper and a Venezuelan chick at 8am ill kill you. The least you could do is offer to buy breakfast.