Over the last 10 years, the Fertitta brothers spent a boatload of money promoting the Ultimate Fighting Championship and getting it licensed to exhibit fights in Nevada. Once the UFC was a legitimate sport, the makeup of the Vegas crowd changed. Gone were the moms and dads and their children. Vanished were the retirees in gem sweaters and orthopedic shoes.
Suddenly, young men puffed up on steroids, swilling eau de toilette and wearing skin-sucking Christian Audigier t-shirts covered with far too much glittery crap, started invading the Planet Hollywood and Hard Rock hotel/casinos. They brought their Lucite platform heel wearing, Forever 21 dress bearing, spray tan having, foul mouthed girlfriends.
Once upon a time, the pool at a hotel/casino was an amenity. It was someplace quiet where you went on a sunny afternoon to bake the alcohol out so you could damage your liver again later that day. Some enterprising manager saw these pool facilities being used as drunk tanks and said, you know what, there’s money to be made here.
It all started at The Hard Rock, where there was an intimate pool party for “the beautiful people” — heavily guarded, invitation only. Once the glitterati tired of this venue, the pool party was opened to the public, and it became “Rehab.” Formerly impossible to get into, Rehab transformed itself into the ne plus ultra for nearly-naked debauchery in the desert sun. Of course, other properties with pools that were not bringing in money saw this, and they decided to follow suit. Today, most every property has some sort of pool party, every day of the week.
Are you a current or former Playboy™ Playmate? Are you involved with such a unique being? No? Then you will probably never see the pool pictured at left in person. This, friends and neighbors, is a pool in the Sky Villa at The Palms. The Sky Villa is Hugh Hefner’s private suite, and it stands unoccupied for most of the year except for the times ole Hugh is in town. Do not deceive yourself, there has been such debauchery in this pool that merely to touch its waters would cause the average evangelical Lutheran to burst into flames. Foolish mortals. Don’t even imagine you will be invited to such a place, where angels cavort naked for old and powerful mens’ pleasure. That being said, for forty thousand dollars a night, you can rent the Sky Villa. (more info here.) But where O where shall you procure such fine and comely maidens as those whose bulbous buttocks writhe for Sir Hefner’s delectation?
Who attends a Vegas pool party? On the male side of the equation, 90 percent “no one wants to see that” shirtless guys with giant moobs, and 10 percent buffed and polished overly tribal-tattooed guys. On the lady side, 95 percent anorexic “sluts and hoes” wearing Lucite platform heels and barely legal bikinis, plus 5 percent BBWs wearing the exact same bikinis as the anorexic girls. The anorexics dance with each other, for the most part, while the BBWs get all the action with the boys, as long as they know how to booty pop. And these days, who doesn’t?
What goes on at a Vegas pool party? Drinking. Lots and lots of drinking. This is where young and healthy livers go to die a quick cirrhosis death. And of course such copious quantities of alcohol are not free, so one had best have at least a few hundred dollars to spend on booze. Cabanas ring the pool area, and that’s where you’ll find people who have even more money to spend, in the shade, getting drunk and saying “WOOO.” Closer to the pool, there’s the “gen pop” area of folding lounge chairs. People in gen pop have to get their own drinks, whereas the cabana people usually have a dedicated server. Oh, those grinders in gen pop. Cabana people have it made.
mmmm, yummy people soup
And then there’s the people who actually go into the pool. Yes, the pool, or as I call it, “people soup.” This is where the drama happens. 22-year-olds, completely hammered, standing in three feet of water, on the verge of alcohol-induced dehydration and sunstroke, singing along to Journey and Joan Jett songs from 30 years ago. How do they know all the words? How can they keep standing when they can barely keep their eyes open? So many questions.
The stars of yesterday, here for you today, only at a Vegas pool party.
The people soup is where the fights happen, because some guy thought some other guy was looking at some girl, or some girl dropped her phone into the soup, never to be seen again, because the water is so befouled with human funk that one cannot see what is one inch below the water’s surface. All the while, everyone is screaming “WOO” as loud as they can, and pumping their fists to the hits of yesterday, especially when such pop legends as Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer make an appearance.
Race you to the people soup, I mean pool. Last one in needs a prescription that can kill MRSA.
Images Source: YoTut’s Photostream
