MANCATION RECAPFirst, everyone mark your calendars. Mancation 2008 will be Thursday, March 20, 2008 through Sunday, March 23, 2008 in beautiful Lake Havasu, AZ. Well, it will be as long as some actually figures out a way for us to get on a boat somewhere.
THURSDAYAnyway, on to the long-awaited recap of Mancation 2007. (Note: some parts of the story are a little fuzzy due to massive alcohol consumption. BP, Tyler or Pank might be able to fill in some of the gaps.)
Pank and I arrived in Miami on Thursday night around 10:30pm. Tyler was arriving in Ft. Lauderdale around 11pm, and Paradise was getting into Miami around midnight as he was too lazy to switch planes onto the flight with Pank and myself. So the executive decision was made to temporarily abandon those guys and head to South Beach.
After locating a place that sold imported beers for $3 a bottle and purchasing plenty, we got to people watching on Lincoln Road. Within five minutes, we saw multiple instances of pretty, young girls on the arms of dirty, old men. The term "Retard Punchout" was born to describe any situation where there was a vast difference in talent such as the hot girl / old guy or Mike Tyson in the ring with a retard or anyone versus Bruss in all fantasy sports.
After Tyler and BP made it down to South Beach, we found a few other watering holes before calling it a relatively early evening around 3am. Some people needed their beauty sleep before the impending debauchery.
FRIDAY (aka Get-Reamed-By-Miami-Prices Day)
After a hearty breakfast where Pank, Tyler and BP combined to eat half a cow and an entire pig while laughing at me for ordering fruit, we decided to check out an all day party at Nikki Beach. At 2pm, it was $40 to get in, but for $60, you got VIP seating and the ability to return at any point until the club reached capacity. And it was cash only.
Now for some reason, nothing in that seemed strange to us, so we shelled out the money. That might have been a mistake. First, this "seating" that we were entitled to apparently consisted of the sand on the beach. Or maybe we bought the privilege of buying $300 bottle service along with every other chump in the place. Regardless, we never found the seating and got kicked out of multiple sections. Two, I'm pretty sure the capacity of the place was 37 people. Or at least, that's the number of people that showed up. The damn place could hold a good 500+ people, but they roped off 90% of it so that all 37 were crammed into the same 10' x 10' space. But more on that in a second.
After an afternoon round of drinks that cost approximately $100, we decided to do a little planning. We left Nikki Beach, bought a few cases of beer and headed to South Beach to drink and play some pick-up ultimate. The ultimate consisted of Tyler dominating the game, me dropping everything except for my beer and Pank and BP not coming anywhere near the field. We also tried a short game on stand next to the naked chick on the beach and take a photo. BP stood pretty damn far away.
Upon our return to the hotel for a quick change, we were walking down the hall when Paradise announced that he heard a bunch of women screaming "Shots" from one of the rooms. Apparently being engaged or married means that you can't even investigate the potential of fun as BP and Tyler continued walking past the door. Thankfully, I haven't succumbed to that illness, and I knocked on the door expecting a few average looking women to answer.
Well, the door was opened by some very attractive ladies from the University of Delaware, including two girls who worked as Bud Light models or something like that. I managed not to trip over my tongue and get invited in for shots; however, I did forget about the others until they knocked on the door to invite themselves in as well. The girls needed help testing out their theory that drinking brandy at night prevents a hangover in the morning, and we were willing test subjects. Unfortunately, they had plans to go to Coconut Grove with some friends, which made no sense because the hottest guys in Miami told them they would be at Nikki Beach that evening. Yeah, no dice.
So the evening was spent drinking further at Nikki Beach while checking out all of the hotties in skimpy outfits. Tyler managed to pass out at the club, but then he topped that by apparently pissing and vomitting simultaneously on the way out. (To be fair, he did make it to the bathroom, which was impressive). Oh yeah, BK showed up as well, but we only saw him for a minute. Weird.
SATURDAY
Saturday was spent at the beach. Tyler and BP wanted to lay out and get some sun. Pank and I decided to walk the beach mainly to avoid the screams of little children when BP took off his shirt. Note to everyone, the sun in Miami is much more intense that the sun in Appleton. Please remember this to avoid burning yourself, and you may want to remind Tyler of this as well.
While walking Ocean Drive, the UDel girls spotted us, and we made plans for the nightly hotel pre-party. Being true Hodags, there was only one drink that could be served by our room: carbombs. So we purchased the needed supplies and proceeded to do rounds of carbombs with a few rounds of brandy mixed in. (BTW, there might be something to that brandy = no hangover thing as we all felt pretty good the next morning.)
After clubbing the previous night, we decided to hit up a lounge instead. So we headed down to the Delano where we found out that I'm fucking retarded. Even though it's 1000 degrees in Miami, you need pants, not shorts, to get into the upscale places. So while BP, Pank and Tyler breezed right in, I had to talk my way past the bouncer, which might have worked had I not been drunk. Let me put it this way. I'm not Troy Smith. Troy Smith was not staying at the Delano. And Troy Smith's girlfriend (whose name I couldn't even make up) wasn't staying at the Delano either. So I just walked to the back and hopped the fence to get into the club.
The club was pretty sweet with everything being completely open-air and plenty of nice scenery around. Tyler and I got schooled in pool as I couldn't make a shot for shit. BP and Pank managed to talk up some ladies, but that fizzled. All I've got to say is that if this is your wingman, go solo. Trust me.
After grabbing some late-night food and heading back to the hotel, we ran into some of the UDel girls again. You would think that 3am drinks would lead to a good story or something, but no, it just lead to 3am drinks. WTF? I'm blaming Paradise for the bad luck with the UDel girls. With a fiance, house, job, white-picket fence and all other other bs, he was actually (gasp) happy. I think they could tell something was not right with the universe.
SUNDAY
Sunday was actually a pretty low-key day. Breakfast was eaten. Tyler laughed so hard that he had to stop eating and actually started crying. Then BP started crying because Tyler was crying. It was strange, but there are photos. Basketball was watched. We hit up the Clevelander for our last night. I was hammered. Pankratz channeled the spirit of black Michael Jackson. People slept for a few hours to avoid missing flights.
Total spent of drinks during four days in Miami: $950
Total spent on hotel during four days in Miami: $0 (don't ask, we don't even know how it happened)
Total hookups: 0 (that we can mention without breaking up a marriage)
Number of fake breasts seen on the beach: lost count after 40
Number of retard punchouts: 18
Number of drunk calls from Bruss in AZ: 1
Mancation 2007: PRICELESS
(Oh yeah, there are more pictures. Check out: Tyler's Page and Dean's Page)
