#BiSC Breaks The Cardinal Rule Of Vegas!

The Cardinal Rule is the foremost important, most paramount rule of all! And for the past 5 days I’ve watched countless bloggers break this Cardinal Rule when they Tweeted and blogged about their Bloggers In Sin City weekend getaway! You know the saying - what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. It’s like the first rule of Fight Club - you don’t talk about the Fight Club. So why are all you silly girls sharing tales, photos and even videos of what happened in Vegas? You’re allowed to commit sins IN Vegas, but what you’re not allowed to do is commit the Cardinal Sin by talking ABOUT Vegas! Every time a Tweet passes through my TweetDeck app or a new blog post appears in my Google Reader about the BiSC meetup, I feel like I should shield my eyes. That I need to look away because that is info I should not be privy to. It should never be shared with the outside public, AKA non-attendees.

Right about now you're probably wondering..."Hey David, you're a blogger. So why didn't you attend BiSC?"

My answer is a simple one: "Because I don't have a vagina."

I don’t have a vagina. I don’t fully understand the required girl lingo. And I can’t picture myself running into anyone's arms and squealing "EEEEE" at an ear bleeding high pitch. Basically, I just wouldn’t fit in. I’m too tall, too flat chested and sometimes I have facial stubble. I’m a dude. Or at least I was last time I peered in my pants. From my understanding, Bloggers In Sin City had 69 attendees, the vast majority which were girls...with one gay guy tossed in. So you see, BiSC is more or less a chick fest. It's a yearly event where bloggers from all over get together to party in Las Vegas. And apparently blog about it upon their return?

Now you would think after hearing tid-bits of info about a massive sex toy giveaway, some buff bodied blogger girl dancing on tables, lesbian kissing, a stripper pole and a dead hooker that I would want to hear more! However, despite my curiosity being peaked, I will refrain from indulging my ears. Why? Because WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS IS SUPPOSED TO STAY IN VEGAS! I don't even want to hear about the dude in the argyle sweater vest than no one would fuck. Because afterall, no one fucks a man in an argyle sweater vest! And further more, who wears a fucking SWEATER in the Vegas desert? So ladies, thank you for not getting him laid. He needs to learn how to dress himself properly first before he even thinks about venturing into dark, warm love caves.

Out of all the tales, I'm most curious about this so-called dead hooker. Was she a REAL hooker and is she REALLY dead? Because if this story is true, then it may just beat out my tale from my last Las Vegas trip. Without giving TMI and sticking to the Cardinal Rule of Vegas, I got a "model" (or so she claimed to be) to go back to my hotel room with me. Sounds awesome so far, right? Well it turns out she was more of a model/coke head. I found this out when she asked to use my bathroom, heard a thud and knocked on the door to ask if she was ok in there. The girl was lying on the floor, ODing on me! But I won't get into all of that because WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS IS SUPPOSED TO STAY IN VEGAS! Remember that BiSC girls.

If I do attend next year's BiSC meetup, which isn't likely because I most likely won't have grown a vagina by then, I expect at least 3 of you dirty whores (said with love) to accompany me to a strip club. Not Chippendale's! I'm talking about a REAL strip club, a female strip club. And without naming any names, I know at least 3 of you are into that.



***NOTE***
Related Post: 9/21/09 - What Happens In Vegas Doesn't Always Stay In Vegas
A heartwarming tale of how one of my lustful sins in Vegas (literally) followed me back across the country and showed up on a doorstep. And how, on the very first date, I had to explain to a girl that I had already slept with her roommate. AWKWARD!