The theme of this bash was decadence and given what went on ‘ere, the Playboy Grotto would have struggled to compete. The girls dancing on the tables might as well as not bothered with tops, what with them being completely see-through and all. Gave they punters a nice early starter of raspberry ripples.
Next up was an on-stage sacrifice, with the chosen girl stripped down to her birthday suit, which as it turned out, was crafted by a Brazilian designer, if you know what I mean.
Not every girl present lost her Alan Whickers but it has to be said the quality on show was Grade A. The place was wall to wall totty, from models, like the Cake Poker girls and the Ayre Heads, to actual proper iGaming girls that gave the lucky men with ain invitation fighter pilot‘s neck just trying to keep track of ’em all. It was a far cry from the old days when the only people at these things were city types in suits.
Michael Caselli made the headlines again, this time for coming with a kid. And I don’t mean a minor, neither. At least not a human one anyway. That’s right, he had a baby goat in tow – although he strenuously denied that the relationship was anything other than platonic. After all, the kid simply wasn’t old enough…
Once he had put the goat down (as in, on the ground, I mean) he then produced a satchel full of Absinthe and proceeded to spend the evening squirting it down the north and south of any unsuspecting victim that happened to cross his path.
The party went on til 2am when everyone was properly leathered. One bloke managed to break his ruby rose after falling off stage dancing like a twat and another geezer threw a punch at one of the bouncers. A big, black bouncer. It was decision that landed him on his Khyber Pass in the road outside and I suspect he had a few injuries to go with his hangover the next day.
The plastered punters wearing animal face masks handed out to the VIP tables were too many to mention but there’s no doubt a good time was had by all. In fact, this shindig was so impressive and the girls so fit that some punters were heard suggesting it was right up there in “Bodog Party” territory. Time to raise your game, Calvin, son.