December 31st, 2001. New Years Eve was finally here and, this being Las Vegas, it was something to be excited about. You see, every year on New Years Eve, about half of the city (and parts of other cities, I bet) crowd the Strip and have a nice little kick ass party. All kinds of shit. Bands playing, street shows, loads of people, free alcohol. Everything you could ask for in a street party. And if that's not enough, all of the casinos on the Strip splurge for a badass fireworks show at midnight. I've never really celebrated New Years Eve (or any holiday for that matter) in a very grand fashion so when we decided that were going to head out for the night and watch the fireworks show, I was excited.

So we get ready - nothing too fancy - and we head out. Kin and I in our regular clothes and the Boob in his lumberjack shirt (see episode 1: prologue.) Naturally we crack some friendly jokes about the lumberjack shirt and be on our way. Kin heard that they were having free bus rides all night (to curb drunk driving) and we thought it would be a good idea since New Years Eve is not New Years Eve without a lot of getting drunk and acting stupid.

But before we did that, The Boob, (unsurprisingly) suggested that we grab a bite to eat first. So we headed down to the local Jack In the Box (one of the finer establisments of the fast food world) and waited in line. We choose JIB for two reasons. Reason one: their food rocks. But more importantly, from the Boob's standpoint, was reason two: I had just gotten a job working at another JIB store and was entitled (along with my friends) to a whooping 20% discount on all food and beverages. This was an AMAZING deal to the Boob and gave him many chances to save 20, 50 and sometimes even 75 cents at a time!

A penny saved is a penny earned was his philosophy.

So we get to the front of the line and someone who appeared to be either the store manager or the assistant store manager (we'll call him Jack) greets us. The Boob immediately mentions that I am a JIB associate, which Jack takes a real liking to. He begins to act very friendly and makes small talk about New Years Eve. A few minutes after ordering our food (we all ordered Bacon & Cheese Potato Wedges because they are so damn good) Jack hands use a tray with three big bowls of wedges with some other stuff that we'd ordered. The Boob just about jizzes himself at the site of the three large bowls. Now, having worked at JIB for a few weeks, I know that the potato wedges are pre-portioned and that you have to go through a little bit of trouble to get a different portion out of them. Of course, the Boob didn't realize this. He just saw bigger bowls and, as far as el Boobio is concerned, bigger equals better, especially when it comes to food.

The Boob then begins to make a very public show of how happy he is at his luck in getting a large bowl of wedges and begins to thank Jack profusely. He goes on and on about how great JIB is and how he's going to call the 1-800 number they have on the wall and tell them to give Jack a promotion for giving us free food (which he didn't and which if he actually had, that customer service line is probably the last place Jack would want us to call.) Blah, blah, blah, he went on and on. Jack is the best. JIB is so great. Can I come behind the counter and give you a good cock sucking? Etc. etc... Jack probably thought The Boob was an idiot. Everyone else does.

So we ate. We left. The Boob farted. And we were on our way. We got on the bus and headed down to the strip. It took a little while, but we had the Boob's witless banter and complaints about gas to keep us occupied with trying to stay sane. And when the bus finally stopped again, we got off.

Finally. The Strip. The New Years Eve party. The three of us walked along the Las Vegas Blvd and took a look around. People everywhere. Drunk people everywhere. Lots of girls. Lots of people of all ages, actually - which was a little disappointing, but not so bad. The Boob needed to take a piss or something so we headed to the Sahara for the pitstop. Once inside, Kin and I loaded up on booze (the Boob was a "light drinker" and it didn't take much to kick his ass.) We headed over to the bathroom.

The room was filled. As I stood there waiting for the others, I heard a rather obnoxious noise.

PFFFFFFFFFFFT!

PFFFFFFFFFFFT! Oh my God!!

PRRRRFRFRFRFRT! Oh Jesus help me!

But it wasn't the Boob. I could see the Boob and he definitely wasn't making that horrible noise. Laughter erupted throughout the men's bathroom.

Oh, god! My ASS! *POP* PRfrfrfrfrfrfrfrfrt!!!!!!!!

It continued for a bit. Hilarity ensued. Kin appeared as the source of the fake sound and bowed to much applause and laughter.

Bathroom humor. I don't really get it, but a lot of people liked it.

So we left the Sahara with our spirits a little higher and our heads a little lighter. We walked down the street and looked for a good place to watch the fireworks show that would be starting soon. Not that it was hard to find a place since you could see it from just about anywhere, we just felt like walking. So we walked, we drank and the Boob continued to complain about food not sitting well with him. We saw a cute girl wearing one of those "ZERO" shirts and the guys suggested that it was a reason for me to talk to her, but I'm too much of a gimp to do anything like that so I didn't. (I make girls talk to me first. That's the rule. Not that it gets me anywhere.) We watched as some people skillfully banged on some trash cans or buckets or whatever the hell people bang on when they can't find drums.

And then the fireworks start. Kick ass. The fireworks show played out directly over head. Fireworks went off from every casino rooftop around. The Rivera, the Excalibur, Madalay Bay, Ceasar's Palace... We watched it for awhile. People 'oooh'ed and 'aaaah'ed the way people do as brilliant lights flashed above our heads. The only thing that could have made it better would have been someone to kiss at 12, but still - it was good. And after 20 minutes or so, it was over.

Gurggle gurggle

"Guys, I don't feel so good." The Boob murmurs. "I think I need to go home."

Fucker. I should have seen it coming. The constant farting. The complaining about stomach aches. New Years Eve midnight and the boob wants to go home.

"Fuck you, we're not going home." Kin said.
"Yeah, we just got here. We're not going home yet." I agreed.
"Come 'on guys. I feel really sick! Ugh." The Boob gurgled.
And on. And on. And on.

We looked at each other. Now you have to understand, our relentless hatred for the Boob had not fully blossomed by this time. Right now, we just thought he was pretty annoying and we only strongly disliked him at times. So he begged and begged and said that he just HAD to go home. And he couldn't go home by himself. NOOOO. We had to go with him to make sure he was alright. Fucker.

So we waited at the bus stop and eventually our free ride home came. We boarded the bus and the Boob, in all his lumberjack shirt glory, opened his mouth to shit.

"Wow. There certainly are a lot of blacks and mexicans on this bus." he said.

We darted looks at him. I glanced at the people around us. He was right. White, black, asian, hispanic and lots of other people. Las Vegas was a colorful city, I suppose.

"You know why there are so many minorities on the bus?" he said.

We each shoot another glance at the woodcutter. We sat there as the bus continued down Sahara Dr and we were a bit confused at where he was going with this. Unfortunately, he would not leave us hanging for long.

"Because they don't have any money. They are poor. White people make all the money, that's why you don't see too many white people on the bus." he continued.

"Dude, shut up!" Kin shot at him under his breath.

Thankfully, we didn't take any heat for that little outburst and we made it home without getting harmed. We dropped the turd off at about 1 am and headed back out in Kin's car. We didn't go back to the Strip that night and we didn't have as much fun as we wanted to have, but at least we got rid of the Boob.