The Hangover Diaries: Gay Days 2012, Private Foam Parties, Gram Crackaz, And Tranny Blowjobs

The 3 people behind me are talking about how the lesbian in the ballcap got tittyfucked even though her nickname is “A Cup”

Gay Days this year was just too.many.things. In the interest of protecting my group of friends from all the debauchery that we got into, and also because frankly, I don’t remember all of who did what, I will be referring to everyone in an extremely vague way.

The official mascot of Gay Days 2012 (we elect one for every holiday) was Rose McGowan. I will explain that in a post later today.

So we started off the weekend in a torrential downpour (which never surprises me since god always makes it rain on gay holidays) so we ate at Planet Hollywood. When I walked in, drunk, they asked me if I was “wet” but I heard “white” so we started off on a racist note. We got shitfaced on Belvedere and nicknamed ourselves The Gram Crackahs. Then we checked into a fucking amazing super suite with panoramic views, 3 bedrooms, and a jacuzzi tub. A few of us immediately started popping adderral. I threw on the skankiest bathing suit I could find and headed over to the host hotel to hang out with friends. One of us started stockpiling adderrall on the first day. This lead to him/her singing songs by Elton John and/or The Lion King Soundtrack in the living room for hours and a bedroom drawer full of leftover pills (which is surprising since at one point, to rally, he took 7 of them at 9 AM).

At Parliament house before we started running away from the laser beams cause we thought they were gonna mess up our hair.

Several of us got super fucked up and hung out on the balcony until 7 AM, when we went inside and found that another one of us had overflowed (is that proper grammar? It was at the time) the jacuzzi jets in the bathroom. We all immediately jumped into the tub too and had a bubble fight. At one point, JMO swallowed a shit ton of bubbles and had a panic attack. Nadia and I just scoffed and said “Get yo shit togeffer squrl” which I am pretty sure is some version of gay ebonics, and kept drinking.

He lived.

You’re welcome JMO.

Those two strange bands of light on my leg are daylight. Day. Muthafuggin. Light.

Typhoon Lagoon was totally awesome this year. For those of you who don’t know, they open the Typhoon Lagoon water park at night, for a huge circuit party. It is unbelievable. One of us bought tickets for everyone ahead of time so we actually ended up with an extra (which we gave to a random person in line-hoping to buy our way into heaven, or at least off the one way train- track to AIDStown, USA). One of us made out with a super old guy in line who promptly removed all his clothes. In line. To purchase a locker, within which to put his clothes.

Two of us made a game of seeing if we could pee while we were talking, since we reasoned that we were all already wet anyway. We ran into a gaggle of twinks and stole their sandwiches (at this point, I hadn’t eaten in 24 hours, so I basically looked like a fat kid the day before fat camp, hoarding an entire sandwich into my gullet without taking a breath). Two of us managed to steal some huge light up glowsticks that looked like dildos and danced the night away in the sand pit (without contracting Hepatitis from a dirty needle, which is still a mystery to me). I am not a strong swimmer, but I am also not scared of anything when Im drunk, leading me to try and swim to the buoys in the wave pool and some really stern looks from the lifeguards. I also swallowed about a gallon of chlorine water. I was the second person that nearly died.

Runaway Twink Casey Blickenstaff – self proclaimed Gloganvlog’s biggest fan. Flattery is the quickest way to get your picture on Gloganvlog

One of us snuck away from everyone else to go cock around with a jewish guy in his room, only to realize everyone else left. That person got a free cab ride by promising the driver a blowie from a tranny friend that was arriving later. Two of us decided, after rebooking a flight at 3 Am through Priceline to take 12 shots of ketel and go to the pool. This resulted in hanging out in some guy’s hotel room where there was broken glass all over the floor, which one of us ran directly through to vomit in the bathroom, then in a bush, during daylight, then in the lobby of our swanky ass hotel.

This is not in chronological order.

This crew looks so bitchy because they haven’t eaten since Gay Days 2011.

One of us got into an argument with a 23 year old Marine who we had met in the elevator because he wouldn’t bring his liquor (in his room) out to his balcony and make a bitch a drink, then took him back to another hotel room, jerked him off in his sleep, then woke up and fucked around with him, then got a ride back to the other hotel where several of us hung out of the sunroof of a volvo topless whilst listening to “Fireball” by Dev. That of course, was my idea since I’m obsessed with that song right now.

One of us put heels on with a tank top and no underwear, and climbed on top of a flat screen TV before passing out on the floor. 5 of us ended up at the Jacuzzi in the host hotel at 8 AM with a topless tranny. Another one of us wore a bikini top to said pool with a baseball cap. Two of us finally broke down and ordered two hotdogs, two hamburgers, and two chicken sandwiches each, sat down in the grass by the duck pond, and stuffed our fugging faces. One of us was went home from Typhoon Lagoon with a persistent older gentlemen stating that they could “Just go fuck for a second and be right back.” That person lost their shoes, phone, and shirt that night and showed up the next afternoon.

The guy on the far right is smirking because somebody’s finger is up his butt. (Its my finger)

Two of us climbed over a 12 foot fence at 5 AM to go to a McDonalds because we didn’t want to walk through the hotel lobby. One of us got inadvertently fingered in the asshole on the ride home from Parliament House. Two of us went to an accidental tranny party and insulted a 9 ft tall lady just because she was named Veronica. One of us peed in the sink of a liquor store women’s bathroom while a lesbian dropped a deuce in the stall at 3 PM.

Two of us were so drunk at the airport on the last day we got kicked out of an arcade and nearly passed out on the airport floor while watching Game of Thrones.

You can’t tell, but we are all wearing mullet skirts and Pop of Color (POC) Neon Jimmy fuggin Choos.

And it comes full circle. I can’t tell you everything that happened last weekend because I really don’t remember it all. But what I do know, is that I had an amazing bonding experience with a few of my very best friends in the world, and that the weekend was everything I hoped it would be and more. It was One Mighty Weekend. It was a fucking shitshow. And it kicked all of our asses straight out to the curb.

I can’t wait to do it again.

This photo is perfect for a rousing game of “Who fucked Who?”