After the great BMX exile that took place in Winnipeg this summer, the (cool) members of the REPSET Mansion unanimously decided that we would have to meet in Las Vegas for New Years Eve and get fucked up one last time before another inevitable hangout-hiatus. Myself, Eric Marshall, James McNabb, and Dave Mcnabb all flew out of our respective airports and met in Nevada’s party capital to get loose for a week straight. Fortunately, our trip lined up with Brad Hill (a veteran BMXFU representative)’s excursion, and we got to spend a night or two with Marc Boudreau and Jeff Bedard. It was a recipe for disaster, so we grabbed some disposable cameras to take some pictures of some shit we’d probably regret later – for your viewing pleasure, of course.

The disposable cameras were Eric Marshall‘s idea (he was also behind the lens for the majority of these photos), and they came out great. Enjoy.

Contrary to what this photo of James McNabb may suggest, we actually cleaned up on the slots a couple times.

We arrived in Vegas just as Four Loko was being replaced by the new formula. Bottom shelf at the sketchy spots always had a couple original-blends that we cleared out, though.

These are my best friends.

The world’s greatest circ.

I’ve never eaten as much McDonald’s as we did on this trip. 24HR / Dollar Menu is probably why.

I don’t think I’ve ever been as fucked up in a McDonald’s as we were this night, either.

One of the things I miss most from Winnipeg are these awesome $4.50 pizzas from the spot across the street from The Mansion. Dave McNabb is a rad motherfucker and brought one in his luggage for me.

Eric was trying really hard to get photos of dudes in the shower.

Brad Hill got fucked up with us when he wasn’t getting sweaty with the wifey, too.

These are the insane beers we bought on New Year’s Eve. Notice they’re from last year, ha.

Yeah, really. There were a ton of protesters on the strip, complete with riot police to keep shit civil.

A photo from my Defgrip campaign.

Eric Marshall was in full boge-mode the entire trip and it was pleasure to see him in top form after such a long hiatus.

Most of us actually ended up doing reasonably well on the machines. I like to consider them an investment in fun. Free drinks don’t hurt, either.

None of us have any idea who this dude is, but he grabbed a beer from Jeff, slammed it, crushed it on his head, and tried to fight Marc.

If it’s too good to be true, it probably is. These fine ass honey dips were an absolute treat to talk to and I definitely wanted to see them later. Sucks that they quoted me $200 to hang out. Ah well. The hunt for ethnic diversity in my fuck portfolio continues.

Eric Marshall got dangerously close to exposing my average unit about a million times throughout the week.

Always a couple of these in your pockets after a night roaming the strip.

Cocaine-blood-stains are Vegas as fuck. I saw an extraordinary amount of blow being consumed almost every time I took a trip to a bathroom.

Fucking death-syrup.

Always take the road less traveled.

Eric really does get drunk enough to do shit like this.

This is kind of a shit photo, but watching some bitches follow Eric down this slide (the space between two escalators) pretty much made my entire trip.

Stuntin’ on some slot winnings losings.

zzz. By the end of the trip we spent a lot of time doing this. Coma.

All in all, I had an amazing time with my best friends. We’re all pretty far apart right now and cruising around in our own directions, but when we do get together it makes for some of the best times of my life. Thanks to EMBASSY for letting me toss these up and embarrass myself and my friends on the internet. Thanks to my closest friends for being the best, no matter what.

*****Most pics by Eric Marshall*****

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