Last night I joined my good buddy Leslie Von Snoot and his band on stage at the Bellagio for a couple of numbers. He needed an organ and the general consensus is Tony Spunk has the biggest organ on the strip.
So we jammed. We threw down some Martinis, we crooned some tunes, we schmoozed with the ladies, we held court at the bar. We were like freaking Siegfried and Roy or something. Only without the tigers. Or the gay. Not that you could tell from Leslie’s shirt.
Also, I met a foxy lady myself last night. Her name’s Veronica and she’s a little pistol. Smart, sassy and stacked. Enormous uncontainable jugs and an ass you could park a Hummer on. You’d need a map to navigate those contours. It’s a rack straight from heaven.
Of course, her face is gonna take some getting used to but you know. One thing at a time.
Veronica and me did some slow dancing, some bossa nova and the electricity was flying, and not just the static from her massive beach balls rubbin’ against my polyester suit either, I know you’re thinking it.
Anyway, I’m a gentleman so I’m not gonna get into what happened after we left the venue but you all have imaginations so knock yourselves out.