I'm not sure who this guy is or whether or not the drunk girl was a friend of his. He was sitting next to her the whole night and he loved that everyone was posing with her.
...and refugee groupies from the 80s! Awwww, yeah! (This lady was awesome - she was totally all over Fatty. Fatty was laughing, but at the same time he was all nervous because she was there with a bunch of scary looking dudes. Check out how Fatty's all got his arms up in the air like "I'm not touching her, see? She is the one touching me!")
But we went up to them afterwards and were talking to them and they turned out to be the nicest people in the world. (And although you can't really tell from this pic, this lady was actually pretty hot. Fatty kept nudging me and nodding over at her being like "Dude, she's so hot....and TRAAAAASHY." Yep, Fatty loves him some trashy women.)
For some reason this is the only pic I have of Grant singing...see him there in the background? Look carefully, I know it's hard to see him behind the group of people who actually got up out of their seats and started doing a FUCKING KICKLINE to the end of his incredible rendition of Frank's "New York, New York." (People from California got up and kicklined to "New York, New York" sung by a Brit. Think about that.)
Why yes, there is: The Fatty with a group of German ACDC fans. These guys were fucking hardcore. They got wind of the surprise show in Munich that morning and flew over on a whim.
...and this guy! I wish I could remember his fucking name! ARgh! He was a total Staten Island-style guido who was pretty much the friendliest guy I've ever met. He saw us taking pictures and wanted to take a look at my camera...which of course led to us taking pictures with him.
On the way over to some bar called O'Donohughe's, Crazy made friends with a homeless Puerto Rican guy and they sang us some songs together in Spanish. (Which was extra entertaining because, um, Crazy doesn't speak Spanish)
This was the best part, I was standing really close to him with my nuts out and all of sudden he woke up. He seemed started to find me standing so close to him and and was like "What's up?" So I said to him enthusiastically, "Nothing, dude! You're rocking the fuck out, that's what! Let's take a picture together!" He jumped up and with like "Ok!" So that's how I turned an "Almost Got My Ass Kicked" situtation into the greatest "You Don't Know You're Posing With My Balls But You Are" picture of all time.
So it was around this time that we noticed these two (aka - "The Greatest Couple in the World."). He was completely shit-hammered; to the point where his head was all bobbing around like we was on a fucking wagonride on a cobblestone street. And she (as if her matching aqua skirt-outfit wasn't enough) had the biggest belly button jewelry thing I've ever seen. I mean look at that thing - it's like the J-Lo engagement ring of bellybuttons. Anyway, she was really drunk and kept heckling people in between songs, yelling that it was her turn already....we'll get back to these guys later.
So check it: This guy's long, braided hair was making Grant all mad. Even though he was standing 10 ft away from the guy Grant was all like "Ew, can you smell it? Can you smell his dirty, braided hair? Ew! I bet it smells!" So I was like, "Why don't you go find out....PUSSY?" So Grant goes over to the guy and I took this great picture of Grant smelling his hair. And then...
...egged on by me cracking up, he got all big balls and got really close and starting sniffing all loud. What my camera didn't capture is Grant almost getting handed a braided-beating when right after the above pic was snapped, the guy turned around all quick and almost caught Grant leaning in and sniffing. The guy wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but he was privy to the fact that he had just missed catching Grant doing something behind his back and wasn't very happy with him. Priceless. (Oh, and by the way, what's with his spray-painted shirt? Is this becoming a stupid trend or something?)
So there was this cute teenager working the counter and she took a liking to Fatty, so he asked her if she'd take him on a tour of the place and show him how the donuts here made.
After months of getting people to willingly pose with my balls, it was time to try something new: getting unsuspecting people to unknowingly pose with my balls. I discreetly whipped out my bag, and grabbed one of our new friends for a picture. I handed off the cam to Seth who totally shit the bed by not managing to get my balls in the pic. Doh! The rest of the guys in the pic (Check out Grant and Franks' faces) were laughing so hard that the girl in the black shirt was totally confused...
This guy was one of the only people there that fit-in with the rest of the crowd less than we did. I mean, c'mon, homeboy was wearing a leather vest! I went up to him and told him that he bore an uncanny resemblance to my brother-in-law (you know, the guy that married my non-existent sister) and asked if I could take his pic (when all I really wanted was a pic of his leather vest). Anyway, he turned out to be the nicest guy in the world and we ended up hanging out with him the rest of the night (and I got the pic of his leather vest, taboot).
...a bunch of hipster-tools, oh sorry, I mean street artists, tag some girl's dress. Yes, seriously. They tagged her fucking dress. And no, this wasn't some performance art-nonsense; this girl, after several minutes of watching these guys she didn't know write on the walls, went over to them and asked them to write and spray paint on her.
Besides seeing the Eiffel Tower, the only other thing Tara wanted to do in Vegas was go to the Rainforest Cafe (don't ask me, I'm still trying to figure out why as well). So check it out, we sit down at our table and then I notice there's this lady at the table behind Tara who's wearing a shirt that looks like it has a gold lamé bib built into it. When I pointed her out to Tara (who's from Texas), Tara shrugged and explained to me "Oh, that's just her eatin' shirt."
Later on, when the lady was finished with her meal (all four plates of it) she took off the bib, folded it up (see the fold-marks in it?) pulled out a matching, gold lamé, bib carrying-case, and put her folded-up gold lamé bib into her matching gold lamé bib carrying case, and put it back into her purse. I was shocked into silence. I had been kidding about it being a bib, I just thought it was part of her shirt. Who carries a bib (nevermind a gold lamé bib) around with them? Who? Fucking Vegas. Jesus.
So after we leave, who do we see sitting on the sidewalk just a few feet from the broken door slumped against the building next to a pile of his own vomit? (Suddenly his little, matching denin Osh-Gosh-esque outfit seemed apropo). That's right, it's the evil door kicker! Regardless of the rough shape he was in, he was still a good enough sport to wipe the puke from his chin and coldlamp for this supremely awesome pic.
