Living the Las Vegas dream…

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As to Alan’s historical conundrum “Did Caesar actually live here?” The search for truth continues.

This is my account of my Best man experience number three for my legend of a cousin. Viva Las Vegas, you are a monumental slice of incredible.

Ta-ta Wales, hola U, S of A. Every one of my senses were titillated to the max by Planet Vegas. We landed around 9pm Nevada time, dropped our luggage off at the ‘Vdara’ and ‘The Wynne’ respectively and within half an hour I was attacking a ‘Half a yard’ of beer at Planet Hollywood like a new-born to a breast.

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Everywhere I looked, everything I heard, tasted and touched was a little slice of “Wa-wa-weewa”. Just incredibly barmy and magnificent. I hit the ground scampering like a toddler at a Petting Zoo. Everything is so absurdly over the top that my little brain couldn’t keep up. Just to add an extra banana skin to the weak minded and easily influenced gentleman there are no clocks anywhere. Everything is bright 24/7 and I swear they must pump oxygen in as alertness levels were Meerkat-esque. The Cocktail Waitresses were hotter than a leather convertible car seat on a mid-summer’s afternoon. You are plied with free drinks as long as you are gambling. The question “Would you like a drink Sir?” to which I replied “You bet.” Grew thin on several Cocktail waitresses throughout my week. Oh well, when in Rome.

I spent three days livin la vida loca until the Wednesday lunch time when I crashed ‘Mr Magoo’ style half way through my Club Sandwich. My body’s internal switch was turned off faster than a male lover being called their father’s name during the throes of passion. After an extended trip to the ‘Land of Nod’ in my King Sized bed in my bedroom which had a glass wall overlooking part of The Strip, I was ready to attach the wheels back on to the wagon and have another bite at the Vegas cherry, just in time for the Wedding preparation.

The Stag Do consisted of a cheeky visit to Mandalay Bay to watch an Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) event. Not too shabby I might add. An electric atmosphere, gifted sports people and pints of Rum made for a ruddy ace experience. The ladies ventured to a Cirque De Soleil tumbling spectacular for their Hen Do which they loved too.

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The wedding took place on the Friday in the Wynne’s wedding chapel. The atmosphere and environment were opulent and classy. The hotel wedding crew were so professional, stress free and tailored the day to the couple’s requests. The morning of the wedding was arguably the most chilled out wedding day preparation I’ve ever experienced. It was Makeover o’clock for the ladies while the Groom and I had a few steady tipples and played a little Roulette. The wedding was uploaded live on the tinternet so that the family could all watch it back home in the UK. My duties consisted of the basic formalities of looking after the wedding rings and making a congratulatory toast post wedding breakfast. Simples.

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The only negative experience I had was that I got hit on a number of times each and every night by women who am not ashamed to say were solid 9’s compared to my ‘6 on a good hair day’. “Poor old you.” I hear you say. The conversations usually took the path of “I love your British accent” “Wow you must look after yourself” “Are you going to buy me a drink” to “So, I’m $300 for the first hour then $250 dollars for each additional hour”. They were ‘Ladies of the Night’ (or Ladies of the day, it was hard to know without a clock) If you don’t weigh in, you don’t Wrestle. I had no intentions of weighing in and my self-esteem was lowered no end. On numerous occasions I was nearly caught in a trap and by the end of the week I couldn’t tell if I was coming or going when talking to women. Were they ‘Painted Ladies’ or just tipsy hot women who were lowering their standards a tad? Eenie meenie miney ‘Pro’… One thing’s for sure, I had a suspicious mind with each and every conversation.

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“You’re only supposed to blow the bloody wedding shoot.” Mr Caine offered his congratulation during the Wedding photos, no big deal. Top bloke.

In a nutshell

Planet Las Vegas is amazing. It comes at a pretty penny and if you’re not a drinker, gambler or appreciator of beautiful people then shy away from the idea. It’s a Stag haven. There is nothing you can’t do. The rule-book has been thrown out. In fact I would go a step further and say the rule-book has been buried in an unmarked shallow grave in the Mojave Desert somewhere. The Wedding Day experience was finely tuned, stress free and stunning. ‘Viva Las Vegas’.

As always if you’re a Best man, Groom, Father of the Bride, a Bride or Bridesmaid this year see ‘our services’ for speech writing services.  Have a look at some of our previous speech writing blogs

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