The road to Rage Mansion in Tahoe loomed ahead of our particular band of degenerates, a ten hour ride through what middle-america hicks forget the rest of California looks like while they rabble about elitism. However, any ride is just a cruise if you bring enough drugs and booze. And so, we set off to challenge the exhaust pipe for carbon emission supremacy with our pipes, bubblers, and grits. After some stops that involved Strong Dong flashing his dick at a warehouse worker while taking a piss on their back door (+1 I show you mine, you show me yours), we arrived at the Rage Mansion and proceeded to plant our Koala flag in a room. Finally, we were ready to begin the Board Club Norcal bender.
The first night, we sniffed out the booze while waiting for everyone else to show up and got the beer die tables ready on opposite sides of the hot tub, conveniently located in the middle of the main living room. The first game, Lo and I turned a 0-4 deficit into an 8-6 win—a statement to the rest of these bitches that you can’t take us down easy if we get to keep drinking more (+1 don’t call it a comeback). After boozing up sufficiently and meeting the rest of the cabin, we took off to spend some time at the Old Cal cabin, where we met up with the Koala’s favorite Rage Kitty. We then returned to the cabin to smoke and drink and introduce ourselves to the loads of foreign girls that decided to show up with their cute accents.
The Chileans were my favorite (+1 hot accents).We started the second day with a feast of bacon to ready our stomachs for more beer die while exploring the ins and outs of the areas around the Rage Mansion. During a game of beer die, Strong Dong transformed himself into Power Bottom by blasting his ass through a wall in a vain attempt to catch my artfully placed throw.
(+1 BOOTY BOOTY BOOTY ROCKING EVERYWHERE/YOU LOOK GOOD WHEN YOU BACK THAT A$$ UP, SMASH IT THROUGH A WALL WHEN YOU BACK THAT A$$ UP)
By nightfall, the snowboarders returned and another night of partying was at hand, this time with more MDMA. Of course, this meant the moombahton grooves and shiny lasers made everything seem right with the world. Although at some point Saturday night someone decided to forget everything that made them human in the bathroom (-2 SAVAGES, FILTHY WHORE SAVAGES), overall the party Saturday night kicked ass. Flip cup, boat race, quarters, die, djs, bitches, and booze.
What else do you fucking want? A group of candied-out kids rolling their ass off, transfixed by light shows and lasers in front of the DJ booth? Thanks to the Pied Piper of MDMA who showed up, that’s what happened next. Later, serving as God while teaching Europeans to play beer die is always a great success, as they broken-English shit talk and think of ways to get each other to say biz. My favorite: “ey man, how long your penis is?” (he meant in centimeters). Sunday, we were finally able and ready to trip balls on the LSD we had brought after an unfortunate Saturday misplacement. Waves of euphoria came over us, and sunlight illuminated the room with a warm glow. We proceeded to drink heavily while playing beer die and watching Top 20 Most Shocking, which takes on a whole other level when you’re tripping. (+1 Trust me, just trip and get drunk and spend an hour doing this). This being Sunday, when night came it was finally time for Dirty Dancing.
We coached a newly enlisted Rage Kitty (while skiing and drinking wine in the bathroom) to transform herself into an ass-shaking Rage Whore, ready to make sure San Diego Board Club will always be known as the ones most down with the stank. That bitch tore up the place. Later, I decided I wanted in on the accent game, and drunkenly came up with a British accent that I used the rest of the night. However, because I’m brown everyone asked if I was from Spain or Latin America. I usually told them I was Swedish. This proved to be a success, since I ended up making out with a girl from Davis for a little while on the porch after sharing a cigarette and a beer (+1 girls are shallow and accents make their pussy wet). No longer tripping but still euphoric and drunk, we raged the rest of the night, ending the night when Power Bottom decided to get his dick wet at the expense of Lo’s closet sanctuary.
The final morning, Tahoe blessed us with one of the finest dispensaries I have ever seen. The weed, hash, and edibles were all cheap and highly effective with a chill-ass staff that seems popular in town. (+1 getting holy-shit-i’mfucking-high stoned on the drive back) Overall, the entire weed culture in Tahoe was definitely one of the finest I’ve been around in California. Another sad reminder that San Diego needs to get its shit together. Facing a long drive home down the 395, we loaded up on this gift from Jah and made the long journey back. 5/5