tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16047752037133756102023-11-06T23:03:01.977-08:00www.cocktaildoll.comThe World's First Guide to Vegas from a Real Vegas Cocktail WaitressCocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-68139155246001422922009-09-06T05:01:00.001-07:002009-09-06T06:01:00.657-07:00Step Off, Bitch!Last night started out to be a pretty good night. My shift started at 8pm and I was working the pit right by Rok Bar. Naughty by Nature was playing in the club and there was a long line to get in. My customers were really nice, tipping well, and everyone was having a good time. A pretty good Saturday night for a Labor Day weekend.<br /><br />Then around 10:30 my station went to hell. For some reason all the good people left and I had the ghetto crowd. I was taking orders at one of my tables and there was a group of five people standing right behind their friend, who was playing. As I was making my way around I said, "Excuse me, guys." One of the guys stood closer to his friend while the others made room by backing up. As I was walking through I said, "Thanks." One of the girls said, "Why does she have to walk right in between us?" Another girl said, "I know."<br /><br />I couldn't believe it. They were in my fucking way, and I said thanks, and they're talking shit? I turned to the first girl and said, "Because I'm working here. I have to get to my customers to take their orders. Why don't you stand somewhere else?" She totally ignored me, didn't even look at me. Oh really, bitch? So you purposefully made the comment loud enough for me to hear, but you don't have the balls to admit that you're a fat fucking cow and should get out of my way? The Meet 'n' Greet area isn't in Pit 5, table 4, in the 4'x4' floor space right behind seats 2,3, and 4.<br /><br />So I continued taking orders at the table and they re-congregated right behind their friend and continued talking. When I was done I went inside the pit and told the pit boss what happened. They knew I was talking about them because they looked over as I was pointing them out, and we were standing right behind the dealer. The pit boss said, "Oh, really? I'll make sure they get out of your way." When I came back with the drinks, there they were again. I said, "Excuse me." The pit boss, who was standing there waiting for me, said, "Hey, make room for the cocktail waitress. Move back." They all silently complied. So you have the balls to make a snide remark to the lowly help when you think you can get away with it, but when someone in a suit talks to you, you just do it? Fucking pussies.<br /><br />After delivering my drinks at this table, I moved on to the next. I handed a customer his drink, and as I looked back at my tray to get the drink for the next guy, I saw a girl, who was just standing there with her friend, suddenly pull her hand back away from my tray. I had caught her in the act of trying to steal an MGD off my tray! Not only was she a thief, she would have thrown my entire tray off balance and the thought of that really pissed me off. She had turned around so that both she and her friend had their backs to me. I said, "Don't you EVER take anything off my tray." She acted like she couldn't hear me, although she was standing close enough to steal a beer. What the fuck was going on tonight?! So I said it again, louder. "Hey. Don' t EVER take anything off my tray!" Still just looking around, nonchalant, just checking out the scenery. I walked around so that we were face to face. "Don't you EVER take anything off my tray. EVER." She glanced at me, then glanced away.<br /><br />I walked back into the pit and told the same pit boss, "I don't know what the hell is going on tonight, but that girl just tried to steal a drink off my tray and I told her she better not do it again. So if she's still here when I come back around again, maybe you can keep an eye out in case she knifes me." As I was talking about her, she and her friend both looked over at me. He said, "OK. She better not come over here and complain."<br /><br />When I came back around again to take orders, those same fucking people were still gathered around their friend. I said, "Excuse me." They did not move. I said, "Excuse me," again, but louder. The pit boss was at another table, but he heard me, so he came back over and said, "People, move back!" So then they stepped back. And again, that same fat fucking girl said, "Why does she have to keep coming through here?" One of the guys said to her, "Shut up. You're gonna get kicked out." Finally, the voice of reason. Now if he had followed that with a slap upside the head, he would've been a hero.<br /><br />The gangsta beer-stealing chick was nowhere to be seen.<br /><br />I hadn't had a night like that in a long time, where people were just flat out assholes. Then a few more rounds and suddenly all the lowlifes disappeared. Now, that's what I call cleaning house. I love my pit bosses!Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-83383215824788191412009-03-29T02:58:00.000-07:002009-03-29T05:32:49.881-07:00The Night the Lights Went Out in Vegas<div align="center"><a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3863.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3863.jpg" /></a>Jackie, Paul, me, Roland, and Joanie in our high limit room. Jackie and Joanie are two of the lovely bartenders who take care of our high limit players. It's always so nice when people know me from my web site and come in to visit. Thanks, guys - hope to see you again!</div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Another busy Saturday night, and NYNY participated in Earth Hour by turning off the external lights at 8:30pm for one hour. That was just great; I'm sure lots of money was saved and the Eskimos have another ice brick to complete that igloo and maybe even some angels got their wings. But when the lights came back on, the casino's computers went down, and suddenly anyone who cashed out from their slot machine got a "call attendant - hand pay" message. Even if it was just for a penny. So not only were people flagging me down to get a drink, everyone was yelling at me about their machines too. That was awesome. That lasted for about another hour, so NYNY should be commended for participating in their own little energy conservation party.</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">You know what else I love? When some loser says, "I'll take a Heineken. And your phone number." Seriously? Does that ever work? "Here's your Heineken. And my phone number. Please call me because guys hit on me all the time*...guys who are actually hot, who don't waste my time then stiff me, who don't think they're playas, who actually <em>are</em> the shit (as opposed to a piece of shit), but you - as Biz Markie so eloquently articulated in that heartfelt love song - you gots what I nee-eeds....".</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">And then there was this young couple who asked if they could have a double Jack and Coke and a double vodka cranberry. I said, "Sure." When I came back with their drinks, the guy took out a wad of bills and carefully selected one dollar and handed it to me. One fucking dollar, for two drinks with double shots. And then the guy said, with a big, friendly smile on his face, "Come back in five minutes." I just laughed. Are you out of your fucking tree? One dollar for two doubles, which I'm not supposed to do, and now you want me to come back in five minutes. Because it's not like I have other customers or anything. On a Saturday night. I'll just back away, bowing (because you're never supposed to turn your ass to royalty - I learned that from watching <em>The Tudors</em>), and head back to the bar and set my timer and diddle my doodle until it's time to come back. So exactly five minutes later, I came around taking orders, and the guy said, "We'll have another, the doubles." I said, "I'm sorry, we don't serve doubles." He gave me a confused look, "That's what you gave us last time." I said, "I did? I was probably just being nice. I'm not allowed to serve doubles." He said, "Uh...OK, just singles then." I shrugged, walked away and was taking orders from some other customers when he came up to me and said, "Oh, here's for the last round. You walked away too fast!" He was holding out a five. I smiled and said nothing. What an asswipe. He said, "Can we get those doubles now?" He was smiling, trying his best to butter me up. I said, "Sure. All you had to do was ask."</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">*This is a lie.</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"><a href="mailto:dollieboop@yahoo.com">dollieboop@yahoo.com</a></div><div align="left"> </div>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-3209071641633719882009-03-27T02:27:00.000-07:002009-03-27T03:38:51.633-07:00Two Hung Low<div align="left"><a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3823.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3823.jpg" /></a> Aww...isn't this a cute picture of my friend, Melissa, at our new Center Bar? But OK, here's the deal. See that woman at the bar? She's a hooker and she had the biggest, hangiest boobs, and she wasn't wearing a bra, so I had to take a picture of her for you guys. But I couldn't just say, "Hey, show me your hangy boobs," so I had to pretend I was taking a picture of Melissa. But she had her head turned away for so long that I finally thought that if I took a picture the flash might get her attention...<br /><br /><a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3824.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3824.jpg" /></a>It did, so I pretended I was taking another picture of Melissa, so the hooker leaned away to try to get out of the shot but I was way too sneaky! But so was she, because she wouldn't move her damn hand off the bar, so you couldn't get a clear view of her tits. I mean, they weren't saggy in the traditional sense. They just hung really low, like down by her waist, but her nipples didn't point down or anything. And because she wasn't wearing a bra you could see areola and everything. I wanted to take another picture but Melissa was doing one of those things when you mutter through your smile, "Hurry the fuck up, she's gonna know you're taking her picture - hurry up!" I'm told areola's a regular so next time she's here I'll try to get a good shot. I swear, her boobs are fucking huge, like bowling balls - at least 15 lbs.</div><div align="left"> </div><br /><div align="left">Take a good look, guys. This is the kind of Pretty Woman you too can whisk away in your sports car.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-16837046898709036722009-03-13T05:04:00.000-07:002009-03-13T06:36:24.196-07:00Ooh...So Lovely....<div align="center"><a href="http://www.americanidol.com/contestants/season_8/danny_gokey/"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 620px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 430px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3693.jpg" border="0" />Danny Gokey?</a> No, just Mike Galster, NYNY's Bartender Idol.</div><div align="left"><br />I was running late to work, which is nothing new, and there was another girl who was also rushing from the employee parking lot to the elevator at the same time. I pushed the button and we both waited impatiently as the elevator finally lit on our floor and the doors opened. There was another employee already inside, and as we stepped in, he said, very dramatically, "Welcome to the morgue."<br /><br />Neither I nor the girl acknowledged him, although I did a quick glance his way before I turned around to face the doors, my back towards him, and she did the same. And I just instinctively did an eyeroll and mock dry heave to myself. I didn't even know the guy. And from the way the other girl reacted, neither did she. I don't know if he was a casino porter or what, but it was just completely stupid. I mean, did he think we would both break out in giggles?<br /><br />Or was that a commentary on how slow our casino business was and an invitation for the three of us to start bashing our place of employment? I really hate the whole negativity of spoiled, ungrateful people who don't know how lucky they are just to be alive in a free country with access to clean water and be able to shit in a flushing toilet. If you hate your job so much, fucking quit and let someone else take your place. I don't love my job because I don't love the fact I have to work for a living, period. But I love the fact that I have a job, such a great job, especially in such hard times.<br /><br />The ride to the employee level wasn't that long, and usually the music that's heard in the casino is piped in to the elevator too, but this time it was just silent. I really wanted to start laughing because I knew the guy was standing back there, probably still thinking he's some ladies' man who just zinged us with his comic wit when we're both thinking, what a complete fucktard. Maybe she wasn't going into the whole deep job-appreciation thing that I was, but she still thought it.<br /><br />When the door opened and we got out, I ran out first because, well, I was really running late and I wanted to get the hell away from the guy. But because I'm short and have extremely short legs, and maybe because he was stalking me or because of serendipity or some other karmic bullshit, he seemed to be right at my heels when I reached the employee entrance. So, because I'm not a complete asshole, when I opened the door, I held it open behind me for him. And you know what he said? </div><p></p><p>He uttered, "Ooh...so lovely...." under his breath. The thing that guys in trench coats say in that creepy way as they're jerking off to kiddie porn. I mean, geez, dude. I just held the door for you, not invite you into my love shack.</p><p>I almost felt like he gave me an STD.</p><p>And yesterday was such a great day.<br /><br /><a href="mailto:dollieboop@yahoo.com">dollieboop@yahoo.com</a></p>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-5889056589756396582009-03-12T01:59:00.000-07:002009-03-12T04:10:41.390-07:00Waitress Rant<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3690.jpg" border="0" /><br />What a great day.<br /><br />It was a great day because I just met Steve Dublanica from waiterrant.net. Not because he's a New York Times bestselling author, or because he's been on Oprah, or even because he interviewed me for his next book "At Your Service." It was a great day because he inspired me to start writing on my web site again.<br /><br />I love writing, I really do. I find beauty in words, and I love relating my experiences, and turning the most mundane tasks, like delivering a drink, into something amusing or interesting or frustrating or even controversial. But sometimes I just get so damn lazy, and before I know it days turn into weeks, weeks into years, and years into <em>who the hell was cocktaildoll - oh yeah, didn't she used to be waitress in Vegas into bondage or something?</em><br /><br />A few minutes after meeting Steve I felt it was time to put my foot in my mouth so I said, "So, you decided to fly all the way from Jersey to Vegas to meet your female counterpart in person, huh?"<br /><br />He took a sip of his vodka martini (dirty - oh, yes, he likes it dirty), then said, "Well, not exactly."<br /><br />I said, "What do you mean? You posted on my message board specifically to meet me."<br /><br />I have to say, he restrained himself really well because I would have reached out and patted me on the head and said, "There, there, you over-egotistical buffoon...it's not all about you."<br /><br />Instead, he said, "I had already planned out my Vegas trip and announced on my blog that I was looking to interview people for my next book. So I when I got into town yesterday I was standing around at Paris when this girl walked up to me and said, 'Hey, you're Steve Dublanica!' We started talking and she said I should get in touch with you, and I said I'd never heard of you, so she gave me your web site, so I went back to my hotel room and tried to e-mail you, but your e-mail doesn't work, so I was really frustrated, then I found your message board, and posted on there, and here we are."<br /><br />All I could do was stare at him blankly.<br /><br />"So you'd never heard of me? Seriously?"<br /><br />He said, "No. I sort of skimmed through your site. You should really update it."<br /><br />OK, maybe I'm exaggerating. But just a smidgeon.<br /><br />An hour interview turned into a five-hour chat about life, relationships, goals, and how his mom recorded American Idol over his interview with Oprah. That sucks.<br /><br />Thanks Steve!Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-43708687573173942322009-03-11T10:29:00.000-07:002009-03-11T10:37:38.571-07:00New E-Mail<a href="mailto:dollieboop@yahoo.com">dollieboop@yahoo.com</a><br /><br />It's really not a new e-mail. Some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">skank</span> has already taken "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">cocktaildoll</span>" as a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">username</span>. Actually, it's probably me from years ago and I forgot the password so I couldn't log into it. Or maybe it isn't me.<br /><br />Anyway, do NOT use dollie@cocktaildoll.com (unless you're a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">spammer</span>, in which case send all your e-mail there) because it's been screwed up for awhile and I can't figure out how to fix it.Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-6788806643677640772008-09-03T21:39:00.000-07:002008-09-14T00:39:24.795-07:00Barack Me<div align="center">Dawn seems to be everyone's favorite cocktail waitress on my web site even though it's MY web site. But just to show that I'm not jealous I'll throw you guys a little more sugar.<br /><br /></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/dawn.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> Ready? OK!<br /><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/dolliedawn.jpg" border="0" /></p><div align="center">Bet Katy Perry never kissed this girl.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/dolliedawn2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center">In case you guys don't get the whole Katy Perry I-Kissed-a-Girl thing I keep referring to, she took a picture in front of this backdrop and performed in Rok Vegas on opening weekend. Anyway, so yes, we felt and looked completely retarded taking these pictures.<br /><br />You know how it is when you want someone to take a picture with your camera so you have to explain to them how to use it? And you say, "You just push this button," and they say, "This one here?" and you're like, "Yeah, this one," and they go, "This one?" and you're like, "No, <em>this </em>one," and they're like, "Oh, you mean, <em>this</em> one?" and you're like, "Yes!" and they go, "OK." And you get in position, and you say, "Ready?" and they say, "Yeah," and you pose. And then as you stand there, puckering up, frozen like idiots, the person taking the picture clicks, then says, "Oh, wait, I did something wrong." That happened a few times. Plus I kept laughing, and Dawn actually said to me, "All right, settle down, goofy." And Kara, the one taking the pictures and who is also a cocktail waitress, made me let her take a round in my pit for wasting her time when she was the one who kept screwing up taking pictures. I mean, it's a freaking iPhone. My 3-year-old knows how to use it.</p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/dolliebrendan.jpg" border="0" /> My friend, Brendan, was here from Ireland so we decided to visit Rok Vegas since I hadn't been there yet. I got on the VIP list (woo-hoo!) and we were there for all of three minutes before we decided to head upstairs to Pour 24 where there are like 3000 beers on tap. I don't drink beer, but for beer connoisseurs I'm told it's really a great bar, and you get free samples too. Anyway, after Brendan had a couple ten Sin Cities we had an interesting conversation on whether the phrase "Barack me!" would be fightin' words or invitin' words, depending on whether they were said to a Democrat or Republican and if one or both parties were naked (duh!), and if nipple rings are involved (again, duh!). <br /><br /><p align="center"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/hooker.jpg" border="0" /> </p><p align="center">Just some of NYNY's finest eye candies at around 2 am. The one in the middle is pregnant. I had to sneak this picture because I was afraid she'd come over and sic her fetus on me. She had just loaded up on cherries and olives from the bar's fruit tray and they were headed over to MGM since their only potential clientele here were a smelly homeless guy who kept asking, "Who's your baby's daddy?" and a drunk Irishman yelling, "Barack me!"</p>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-76710486852330513922008-09-01T19:13:00.000-07:002008-09-03T02:53:51.748-07:00I Kissed a Girl and She Liked ItThe construction at NYNY is almost complete (yay!). The only thing left is the center bar, which will be located in the, yes, center of the casino. Keeping in mind that I've been working very sporadically, that I don't really pay attention, my information is outdated and relayed from questionable sources, and deadlines are sometimes quixotic ambitions...the last I heard, everything is supposed to be done by September 27. For everyone who has the correct updated info, I refer you to my disclaimer.<br /><br />Anyway, the new high limit room is done and it is be-ew-tee-ful! Now we're talking. For those of you who have been here before, it is where the Big Apple Bar used to be.<br /><br /><div align="left"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimit.jpg" border="0" /></div><div align="center">Let's take a tour!</div><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimit2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center">I was trying to get a picture of the entrance of the high limit room but all these people were crowded around it, staring down at some guy because he dropped dead when the dice at the craps table hit him in the temple.</p><p align="center">Just kidding. </p><p align="center">Seriously, though, the craps games are right in front of the high limit room entrance so that's why all these people are in the way.</p><div align="center"><a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimitpit.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimitpit.jpg" border="0" /></a> Aww...look, as you enter and peer to your right, it's our fine lonely pit employees, looking dapper and high-limit-ey. Mike is in the black suit and Dolph is in the gray. They are professional, friendly, and knowledgeable at all times. Even off the clock. I just love these guys.</div><br /><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimitbar2.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">To the left is the bar with table-top video poker machines. There are no "guns," which means all the liquors will be poured from bottles, as they should be.</p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimitbar.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">Here's a shot from farther away. Why? I don't know. So you can see the lovely tile decor and that yes, there are barstools. There are also some widescreen monitors on the wall. Unfortunately, the lovely cocktail waitress does not come with the bar as she is overqualified for the position.</p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimitlounge.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">What a nice little lounge this is. It's located to the immediate left of the entrance, and right next to the bar. So when the high rollers bring their non-gambling buddies they can just sit and get hammered. Something for everyone.</p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimitlight.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">This is the chandelier hanging above that lounge, and I swear it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Have you ever played that game Nuclear War? Usually you play it with a friend, someone as immature as yourself, when you're somewhere, say, an elevator, a bar, a church, a funeral...and you pretend there's a nuclear war, and the only survivors are the people in the room. You <em>have </em>to fuck someone to save a loved one's life. Masturbation and suicide and your companions are not options, who would you choose?</p><p align="center">I would choose that chandelier. Yeah, definitely. I would fuck that chandelier.</p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimitslots.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">This is the 69 room. I don't know what all these slot machines are doing here.</p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimitamenities.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">After visiting the 69 room you can towel off and gargle.</p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimittoilet.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">Hopefully self-explanatory.</p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/highlimitfaucet.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">For real, is this the coolest faucet you have ever seen? It's literally a waterfall! I am blown away by this! I know it's completely aesthetic and adds nothing whatsoever to its intended purpose but I have been holding a torch for this faucet for years. It's a sad and pathetic tale.</p><p align="center">Years ago, when I lived in Los Angeles, I was a lowly non-union extra in TV, movies, and commercials making $40/day. It wasn't my dream to be an actress or anything, I was really just lazy and it was easy money. So I was in a few scenes of a movie called <em>Mistress</em>, which was shot at a house in the Hollywood hills, and the bathroom had that exact same faucet, except it was black. The toilet was black too. I'll never forget that because I was thinking, oh my god, this is how rich people live.</p><p align="center">I know. It doesn't take much. And yeah. That faucet stayed on my mind for almost twenty years. And now I can just go in that high limit bathroom and turn the faucet on and off, on and off. Don't think I won't.</p><p align="center"><a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/rok.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/rok.jpg" border="0" /></a>OK, so is anyone ready to rock...ROK Vegas that is? I know, that was lame. What do you want from me. Get your own web site.</p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/rokrunway.jpg" border="0" /> </p><p align="center">Cocktaildoll's #1 fan secures her place in line. That's right, check your camera, babe, because this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.</p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/dolliesusi.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">That's my Susi. I may or may not have kissed a muchacha but she definitely liked it. I mean, would have liked it.</p><p align="center"><a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/dolliesusirok2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/dolliesusirok2.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center">I'm planning on being at ROK on Wednesday, September 3, around 10pm, if I don't get called in to work. I'll try to take more pictures, maybe of the inside since I haven't been yet. If anyone wants to say hi please do, and we can also take some pictures together for my web site!</p>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-30138333718443174672008-03-27T16:19:00.000-07:002008-03-28T18:18:27.279-07:00A Stiff is a Stiff is a StiffI was delivering drinks when a couple guys sat down at some nearby slot machines. I could see them out of the corner of my eye looking at me and I heard them saying something about wanting a drink. When I was done with my customers I said to the guys, "Let me drop off these drinks and I'll be right back to take your order." Usually when I say this people are very nice and say something like, "Thanks." Because they appreciate that I acknowledged them and that I'll be right back, right? It's love all around. But what happened this time? One of the guys said, "Hurry up." That's right; Hurry up. I had already turned away by then, but I stopped, stepped back to look at the guy, and said, "Yeah, right." What a fucking prick. Sometimes it just doesn't pay to be nice. So what did I do? I dropped off my drinks, went to my next section, took orders, dropped off their drinks, then came back around to this section to take orders again. If the guy wouldn't have been such a smartass, I would have taken their order before going to my next section and went to the bar just to get their drinks first. Oh well. Like I always say, you can't reward bad behavior because people are like dogs and they'll learn that bad behavior is the key to getting their way. Anyway, so when I came around to the same two guys I said, "What can I get for you guys?" The prick who told me to hurry up wouldn't even look at me. His friend ordered for them both and I could tell he was embarrassed by Hurry Up's comment. When I brought their drinks the prick took his beer and just stared at me, and of course stiffed me. His friend smiled apologetically, said thank you, and gave me two dollars.<br /><br />Then I had these four obnoxious fat women who wanted shots along with their Margaritas and Pina Coladas. They were the kind who ordered as soon as I dropped off. Apparently I wasn't filling their IV's fast enough because they complained to my beverage manager that they had spent $300 and they had to wait for drinks. Three hundred bucks among the four of them and they thought they were high rollers. That would be like if I showed up at the emergency room demanding a doctor because I got a paper cut. No one gives a shit. My manager was smart enough to see through it all and after bringing them a few extra drinks he told them I had other customers too and that was that.<br /><br />These two old ladies ordered a rum and Coke and a white wine. When I brought the drinks, rum and Coke stiffed me. As I was giving white wine her drink she looked in her purse for money to tip me. Rum and Coke said, "Ruth, don't tip her. Unless she keeps coming around." I looked over at her as if to say, <em>are you for real? </em>I looked back at the Ruth, who gave me an apologetic smile (boy, there sure were a lot of embarrassed friends today) and handed me a dollar. I came around a few more times and rum and Coke said, "Wow, you come around a lot!" as she stiffed me again. Five rum and Cokes I brought her, and she stiffed me every single time. Ruth only ordered one more white wine and gave me another dollar. So why did I keep bringing her drinks? To prove that a stiff is a stiff even when they try to use bad service as an excuse.Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-72323801013878141862008-03-23T18:12:00.000-07:002008-03-28T18:15:54.414-07:00Gratuitous Easter Picture<a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/Opening096.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/Opening096.jpg" border="0" /></a>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-28852612401051049832008-03-20T20:12:00.000-07:002008-03-28T16:17:48.978-07:00March MadnessI had the best day working the race and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">sports book</span> on the first day of March Madness. It was so busy but every single customer was awesome. I mean, they weren't just nice, they were fun and polite and just made my day. I even got a rose.<br /><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/Opening066.jpg" border="0" /><br />It reminded me of another day last year when I was in the pit and as I walked by one table of guys and I had to do a double-take because I thought I caught a glimpse of ruffles. Sure enough, one of the guys was wearing a french maid outfit. I stood there in the aisle, just staring at him because he was also <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wearing</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">biker's</span> hat and had some kind of weird mustache thing going on. He looked like he had been voted off the Village People. And the really strange thing was, all the guys at the table were quietly concentrating on their blackjack game as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have some cross-dressing freak playing alongside them. So I walked inside the pit and I went up to one of the pit bosses and whispered, "Is that guy really wearing a french maid outfit?" He looked over and we both just stared at him again. This time the guy must have felt our eyes on him because he turned his head and saw us. The pit boss said, "We're just checking you out." The other guys at the table started laughing, and French Maid said, "Oh, please don't." The other guys said, "It's his bachelor party. Doesn't he look sexy?"<br /><p><br /></p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/IMG_0870.jpg" border="0" /> </p><p align="center">The lucky bachelor and me, taken with my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">upskirt</span> cam.<br /></p>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-35907088172514387522008-03-16T03:52:00.000-07:002008-03-28T16:32:55.588-07:00Pardon Our DustI thought you would like to see some of the construction that's been going on. <div><div><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3195.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3195.jpg" border="0" /></a>This is where the Big Apple Bar used to be. It's just a big black wall right now but it will be our new high limit area. No more Phoenix (sniff sniff), our most popular band!</p><p align="center"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3197.jpg" border="0" /> Behind this wall they are redoing the slot area. This view is looking towards the Bar at Times Square, which is on the left below the neon signs.</p><p align="center"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/DSCN3198.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">This is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Rok</span> Vegas, our new nightclub that is co-owned by Tommy Lee, which is located where the Cabaret Theatre used to be (Rita <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Rudner's</span> theatre). It's scheduled to open mid-May but the opening date has changed many times, so who knows. (Update 3-17-08: The new opening date is 8-8-08.) <p align="left">It was so freaking busy last night but all my people were really nice, especially my two gay guys who told me I have "fabulous boobies." Is there a bigger compliment than that?</p></div>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-22725959410771794972008-03-12T02:19:00.000-07:002008-03-12T03:37:45.335-07:00VIP Bridge Party<a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/3-11-08BridgeParty1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/3-11-08BridgeParty1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div>Last night I worked a private party on the bridge for about a thousand people. It was pretty fun because all the customers were really nice, most of them were men, and damn those guys could drink. And I worked with nine of my favorite girls, all of us are members of the Starving Waitresses.</div><br /><a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/3-11-08BridgeParty2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/3-11-08BridgeParty2.jpg" border="0" /></a>Here we are with Chris, our V.P. of Food and Beverage. He is the best boss, the nicest guy, and I just love him. I have a straight boy crush on him.<br /><br />There were a group of guys next to the waitress station. Heather and I were hanging out there talking when Lisa walked up to us. As she walked by the group of guys, one of them stopped her and said, "Hey, how ya <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">doin</span>'?" She said, "Good," and gave him a look like, <em>do I know you? </em>He said, "It's me!" She still just looked at him, as if trying to place him. He said, "Didn't I meet you at church camp?" She said, "Uh no...I don't go to church." I rolled my eyes and said, "Oh my god. Does that <em>ever</em> work?" The other guys at the table started laughing. The guy said, "Once. Well, OK, maybe never." I pointed at Heather and said, "Hey...don't I know you from church?" She said, "Yeah, I think so." I said, "Great. Let's fuck!" She said, "OK, let's go." They just bust out laughing. The guy said, "That's exactly how it's supposed to work."<br /><br />I haven't worked in over a week I felt like I was starting a new job. I forgot the door code at the employee entrance so I was punching buttons like an idiot and kept getting a red beeping light until another employee came by and put in the right code. Duh. I almost didn't recognize the casino with all the construction going on and the new layout in the completed areas.<br /><br />And when I left work I was so tired that I couldn't wait to get home, change into my sweats, make something to eat, and watch <em>American Idol</em>, which I had recorded on my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">DVR</span>. I looked in my purse to get my iPhone to charge it and lo and behold...I realized I had left it on the bar! Here I was talking shit about Jerome losing his phone and I went and did the same thing. So I had to drive all the way back to work in my Hello Kitty sweats, wait around for another employee to walk up and input the right door code, walk all the way to the bar where everyone very helpfully said, "Hey, you forgot your phone," and drive all the way home again. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Aargh</span>!Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-68323914209322950572008-03-02T14:12:00.000-08:002008-03-02T17:27:45.239-08:00My Worldly VisionsIt's been so long since I've updated because I've been busy having two more kids. Well, sort of. I'm sponsoring two girls through World Vision. I've always been leery of charities but I checked them out through <a href="http://www.charitynavigator.org/index.cfm?bay=search.summary&orgid=4768">Charity Navigator</a> and did some other Google research, and they seem pretty legit. However, if anyone has any legitimate information to the contrary, please let me know.<br /><br /><div><div>I thought it would be fun if Joshua had someone his own age so they could grow up together and hopefully I can instill in him some sense of obligation to take action in helping others, and to appreciate everything he has. I went on the World Vision web site and just input his birth date and hit search. This adorable little girl was the first one that came up, so she is now part of our family. I've received two letters so far, one from her volunteer in Brazil, and one from her mother. They live in a little house on the water so I sent her those arm floatie things. She probably knows how to swim but just in case.</div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/Ingred.jpg" border="0" />This past Christmas I asked my 10-year-old niece, Arden, "What if instead of a Christmas present this year we sponsor a child?" She excitedly said, "Yes!" - exactly the response I was hoping for. I asked her if she had any preferences on age, sex, country, etc., and she said, "I don't care." So I did the same thing I did with Joshua; put in her birth date, but this time I also chose "girl" because having been a 10-year-old girl once myself, I knew it would be fun to have a girl pen pal to talk about all the things 10-year-old girls talk about. When this girl came up Arden said, "How do you say her name?" I said, "Uh, I think it's Vajayjay." She giggled and said, "It is not!" I said, "No, seriously. And she's your pen pal, so I'll pay for her but you're the one who needs to keep in touch with your Vajayjay." She said, "Eww, stop saying that!" Hopefully we'll hear from her soon and get to the bottom of this.<br /><a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/Vijay.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u206/Cocktaildollie/Vijay.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-12303801366895479232008-02-16T17:25:00.000-08:002008-02-16T17:48:36.166-08:00GuiltyOver a year ago my friend Brenda was viciously murdered. The guy finally went to trial this month and was found guilty of second-degree murder. I guess the jury didn't think he premeditated the murder. Needless to say I disagree, and so do her other friends and family. Unless a death is accidental, how do you not premeditate it? Even if it's a crime of opportunity, or passion, or done spontaneously, you don't unknowlingly bash someone in the head over and over until they're dead.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.lasvegasnow.com/Global/story.asp?s=7826895">http://www.lasvegasnow.com/Global/story.asp?s=7826895</a><br /><br />Brenda's body has still not been found.Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-30140715065000546582008-02-16T15:40:00.000-08:002008-02-17T01:12:13.286-08:00iPhoneSo, for some good news...back in July I finally bought the iPhone that I'd been drooling after. The bad news was, the price dropped $200 two months after I bought it. The good news (for Apple) was they "refunded" me $100, which was really just another devious scam by Steve Jobs since it had to be spent in an Apple store...and who's gonna spend just $100? So I bought another iPhone for Jerome at the New Low Price. Boy, that Steve Jobs...what a conniving prick...and I wish so much that he were my daddy.<br /><br />Anyway, the bad news was...Jerome's iPhone was stolen a week ago. He had gone to Luxor around 2am to visit some friends because he used to work there as a bartender. He was at one of the bars showing the bartenders pictures of Joshua on his phone, then he set it down (why the hell would you set your IPHONE down on the bar on a crowded Saturday night??? Aargh!!!) and when he turned back around it was gone. He did the whole look-for-it thing - asked around, checked with security, etc. - to no avail. He tried calling his cell but no answer. Around 5am I called his cell and this time some guy answered. The conversation went like this:<br /><br /><blockquote>Fucking iPhone Thief: "Hello?"<br /><strong>Pissed-Off Me: "Who is this?"</strong><br />Fucking iPhone Thief: "Who is <em>this</em>?"<br /><strong>Pissed-Off Me: "Whose phone are you using?"</strong><br />Fucking iPhone Thief: "I'm using my <em>phone</em>! My <em>iPhone</em>!"<br /><strong>(Idiot Jerome iPhone-Loser: "Great, now you pissed him off. Ask him where he is.")<br />Pissed-Off Me: "Where are you?"<br /></strong>Fucking iPhone Thief: "Albuquerque."<br />Fucking iPhone Thief's Accomplice: "Yeah, man, we're in Albuquerque!"<br />(Fucking iPhone Thief Low-Life Scumbag Cunt Motherfucker Shit-Sucker<br />Uncircumcised-Dick-Eater laughter.)<br />Click. They hung up on me.<br /></blockquote><br />A few seconds later my phone rang. I picked up the phone and clicked the receiver to answer, but I didn't say anything.<br /><br /><blockquote><p>Fucking iPhone Thief: "Hello?"<br /><strong>Pissed-Off Me: Still silent.<br /></strong>Fucking iPhone Thief: "They're not saying anything. Ha, we got your iPhone, man!<br />HAAAAAAAAA!"<br />Click.</p></blockquote><br />A few seconds later my phone rang again. This time I let the machine pick it up, but they didn't leave a message.<br /><br />So the next day, Monday, Jerome went to the Apple store to report his phone stolen and to buy a new iPhone. He asked if he could give them the serial number and have them block it so that if someone tries to activate the phone it would come up stolen, and could possibly be traced to that person. They said no. He took a deep breath. OK, cool, whatever. So he took out $500 and said he wanted to buy another iPhone. That's great, they said, except you can only buy an iPhone with a credit card. He said, "What?" They said that they only take credit cards on iPhones so they can keep track of how many are bought. He said, "Wait a minute. So you can track how many are bought by a credit card, but you can't trace a stolen iPhone?" They didn't really have a response to that. He said, "So what you're telling me is that Apple doesn't give a fuck about anyone but themselves?" After that delicately-put rhetorical question they asked him to leave.<br /><br />Later that day he went back to the store with a credit card and bought an iPhone.<br /><br />I did find a pretty cool web site <a href="http://ifoundyouriphone.com/index.php">http://ifoundyouriphone.com/index.php</a> where you can register your iPhone and make a custom wallpaper so that if you do lose your iPhone, and you're lucky enough that someone would want to return it to you, they can go on that web site and e-mail you. I also noticed something on my iPhone that I had overlooked before, and that is a setting where you can enter a passcode so that no one can use it (unless they figure out the passcode) if you do lose it.<br /><br />So, the moral of the story is, don't lose your iPhone, if you do you're screwed, and if you decide to buy another one bring a credit card.Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-39306543591830569662008-02-16T13:22:00.000-08:002008-02-16T17:25:23.348-08:00Trolling For TipsWell, what can I say? It's been ten months since I last updated and a lot has happened but instead of trying to recap I'll just dive right into what's been going on recently.<br /><br />NYNY has been undergoing massive reconstruction starting on January 7, 2008. They have decided to redo the entire casino, section by section. What this means for customers is that there will be dust and NOISE. What this means for cocktail waitresses is that there is less work available.<br /><br />To give you the Cliffs Notes version, when a waitress' section is being revamped, she is technically out of work so she goes on top of the Extra Board until her section is finished. The Extra Board consists of girls who are always "on-call." Every week the Extra Board chooses their schedules for the following week from the full-time girls who have requested days off, vacations, floaters, etc. The girls at the very top of the Extra Board get to choose the best shifts, which are basically swing shift pits. Usually it's the goal of every Extra Board girl to land a shift and become a full-time employee. However, girls at the top of the Extra Board usually stay there forever because it's like being a full-time swing pit girl anyway. So, when a full-time girl loses her station and goes on top of the Extra Board, obviously everyone else moves further down, which means less desirable shifts and/or no shifts available. I was number 7, which isn't bad, but since the construction has started I've been anywhere from number 11 to 13. Which means I haven't been working much.<br /><br />Color me poor and desperate!!!<br /><br />However, I am turning down shifts like graveyard and The Bar at Times Square because I can't handle hearing anymore drunk white guys singing "You Shook Me All Night Long."<br /><br />So if you do come visit me at work please don't be upset if I don't have time to chat. I really need to make as much money as I can when I'm there!Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1604775203713375610.post-48682036158623571572008-02-02T21:35:00.000-08:002008-12-08T13:53:06.102-08:00Hey, how YOU doin'?<p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WZQvbkyK9pw/R6Z6gGbuTJI/AAAAAAAAADM/P4TvqFj6hs4/s1600-h/Picture+101.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162948714728148114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WZQvbkyK9pw/R6Z6gGbuTJI/AAAAAAAAADM/P4TvqFj6hs4/s400/Picture+101.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I'm back!</p><p align="justify">Trying out a new look and all that, hope you like it, blah blah blah. Now you can leave comments - cool, huh? And it'll take me awhile to figure out how to edit them all to flatter me, so take advantage of it. It's great to be back!</p>Cocktaildollhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00105448553305187023noreply@blogger.com1