SCENE: COLLECTIVE HQ
H!A!: What shall we write about this week, ladies?
K!: Let's be snarky. I'm in the mood for snark.
K!: Oh noez! I have The Block!
So in swoops my own personal superhero, just returned from his latest Vegas excursion, where he realized that it's not so much Sin City any longer, but Douchbag Central. Ladies and gentlemen, I present the world's greatest boyfriend's blogging debut:
Today we salute you, Mr. World's-Most-Asinine-Drink Buyer
Wearing a neck strap to hold up your 100 ounces of frozen daiquiri, you're living the American Dream.
Walking around the Vegas Strip, golf shirt tucked into jean shorts, no belt usually but when it's there it's braided, condensation dripping down onto your leather sandals....everyone is looking at you.
As far as you know, they're all saying "Who's that lucky guy who not only looks good and has a nice refreshing cocktail, but ALSO has both of his hands free?"
You knowwww they want onnnnnne
Ohh, one of the 5 cell phones on your belt is ringing a Garth Brooks ringtone; now it's the neck strap's time to shine.
Knocking down bachelorette parties like they were bowling pins, stepping on the feet of porn slappers**, and pretending "Danger" really is your middle name, nothing will get in the way of you and your asinine drink.
And by all means, there is danger: further obesity, neck-strap tan line, and scoliosis, to name a few.
Don't sliiiiiiiip a disc nowwwwww
So drink up, Mr. World's-Most-Asinine-Drink Buyer, because I'd sure like to see you try to go to the bathroom while wearing that thing.
**(For those who haven't been to Las Vegas, Porn Slappers, as they have been dubbed, are illegal aliens who stand all over the the strip slapping these cards against their leg....When you look at the noise, they shove the cards in your face.)