Another Playboy Super Saturday Night and I ain't got nobody...

This past weekend marked a monumental event for me...the popping of my "Super Saturday Night" cherry. It was to say the very least -- everything I had hoped for and more.

In case some of you are unsure as to what Super Saturday Night is (i.e. you don't drink the Playboy juice), it is the annual party that Playboy throws the evening before Super Bowl. Over the years, an event that began as a simple bar party has grown to a large scale production complete with celebrity hosts, dozens of Playmates and a pretty good looking crowd. There were definitely some skanks and some old dudes, but Phoenix + Playboy + football = inevitable.

The day began at 8 am with a lovely breakfast at the hotel and a car ride with the Events Director to the party venue. The venue was appropriately called Rawhide and I think is usually a place where people go to watch rodeos. Needless to say, as I was carrying boxes from one of our cars I noticed a goat running towards me. The goat was soon joined by a couple of other goats...Traci was talking to them while I was cowering in a corner (apparently my fear of goats is almost as bad as my fear of flocks of birds). It turned out the goat was just "Billy Joe" and he lived there. We didn't see him again although we did see Chris release his "inner goat".

The day "flew" by in a series of tasks such as placing decals on umbrellas, setting up dancer's costumes on clothing racks and sitting in a car checking people into the party and directing them to park in the wrong place (oops!). I heard some woman's life story including details on her wedding, the cost of her upgraded ring from Zales and the birth of her 3rd child. This brought me to dinner and then makeup/hair time. I think I might have ended up looking a little bit like a tranny (see below), but it's cool.


So...12 hours after arriving at the venue (!) the doors open and I was there to take tickets and break some balls. No one likes to be the person at the door...mostly because people are assholes and it's cold. However, I was entertained and also confused: Why do some people think that wearing a piece of spandex qualifies as "sleek and sexy"? Why do some ladies think that wearing Doc Martens and slacks is appropriate for a Playboy party? Why do people still wear Bolo ties? If I worked for Go Fug Yourself, I might have had a heart attack...however, there were many good looking people to balance out the riff raff such as Alyssa Milano and Tony Danza...I mean Nick Cannon:



Hef and The Girls Next Door came to the party and I got to give Bridget a hug. I also got to dance with Miss. May 2007 Shannon James and of course Charlie, who is the master of the dance. I saw Kevin Dillon and Common from afar, I heard Audrina and LC on the mic but was blocked by some 7' tall man and couldn't see them. At some point I decided that I needed to drink Red Bull to keep going...UM, if you've ever seen me on coffee...this is like coffee x 1000. Amazing.

Needless to say at the end of the night (4AM), I was still hyped up and pretty psyched about packing boxes. I am pretty sure the most ridiculous portion of the evening was trying to shove an enormous umbrella into a skinny box and telling my co-worker Stephen to "push harder" and "get it in fast". ahhhhh....getting my V-card punched was just soooooo amazing.

p.s. I definitely kept it real with all of the 20 something's this evening...thank you Red Bull. My only regret is that I couldn't mix you with the Ciroc that was on-hand...FO REALS, it was the official VOKA of SUPER SATURDAY NIGHT and therefore of PUNCHING MY SSN V-CARD!

The Hazing Incident - Part Dos

Dear Fans,

It's time for the weekly installment of "The Hazing Incident". Sorry if I kept you waiting a long time...but they don't call it a cliff hanger for nothin'!

So, cuddle up to your keyboard and get your hot chocolate out, cause this is a tale that will truly warm your heart. So to begin where we left off...

We arrived in Miami and went directly to The Shore Club where we checked into our room which was...minimalist to say the least. The floor was "bedrock" and although the view was gorgeous...I quickly determined that the rooms had been created with the hopes that no one would actually want to stay inside but would go downstairs to party by the pool, drink $15 cocktails and eat $27 plates of crudite (yes we did all of the above and more...). Luckily for us, Friday was a beautiful day. Unlucky for us the a**hole pool boy didn't tell us that our seats would be in the shade for the ENTIRE day. I am pretty sure Traci almost killed me for complaining about the shade...but finally we figured it out and moved to the beach which was NOT filled with hot guys, but rather a group of loud women who were getting pedicures at their chairs...oh and one of them was doing so topless. When two "cute" dudes did show up to sit next to us, I had to listen to them talking about this woman's tits (their words) and how they wished her friend would rip her shirt off. I say, get a Playboy and call it a day.

Anyhoo -- Friday night was the "official celebration of my 30th birthday" and man oh man, Becky and Traci really mean it when they say something's official (see "Ciroc" and "Chris Duncan"). We went to dinner -- food was good, drinks were also good. After dinner we are about four drinks into the evening and decide it is time to go to Glass a "happening club" that Traci has gotten us hooked up at with bottle service. Of course our first question was "Do they have Ciroc?" which if you haven't heard is "The Official voka" of everything (and no, that's not misspelled...it's VOKA). Luckily they did, but our free bottle was actually of Grey Goose. Here's the deal: when you are four drinks in and someone says, "here's a free bottle of The Goose which usually costs $400" you say "Sweet, let's drink ALL of it...in under two hours." Or at least, that's what we said. And this is where stuff gets sort of blurry. I know there was soda brought to the table (who needs a hangover from the fruit juice??). I also know there was a couple sitting next to us who bought their own bottle and the woman had a butterfly clip in her hair. I also know the AC was unnecessarily blasting...but the pictures below will show you everything else that happened: The Hazing Incident.

Apparently I forced both Becky and Traci to chug out of the vodka bottle (NOTE: only voka when referring to Ciroc), Becky forced me to eat cake which was given to us by another birthday party (it could have been roofied!), the people next to us gave us their bottle of vodka and I hugged them as if I never made fun of the butterfly hairclip AND apparently in an unprecedented hazing tactic, I was FORCED to dance like a 45 year old woman and not the 30 year old Godd-ess I am.

Once this first portion of the evening was over we somehow ended up back at the Shore Club where I can't really reveal the activities that went on because as you know, Hazing is illegal and frowned upon by society. But it involved Goldfish Crackers and a crack...When that was over, Becky and I headed downstairs to keep on drinking. Ahhhh...so necessary.

If you want to find out what happened next, you'll have to wait until next week's installment of "The Hazing Incident". It's like Lost but less confusing and mysterious.

Remember folks....