The Stoke Chronicles

After splitting 4 joints the previous night I noticed it was time to get up for work the next evening which was…. A boat party.

Picking up a burger cuz I didn’t fully satisfy my munchies, I walk on to the boat to see 30+ hot blondes n’ brunettes waiting on the dock in booty shorts and skimpy tops…. nice…

Providing an extra initiative to get shit ready faster, the boat was fully stacked with girls out numbering men 3-1, as we left on time.

Grabbin’ a beer, the party gets started…. I see people dancin’, drinkin’ and grindin’… and just having a good time … so I think to myself.

“Damn, I love this job… How the hell is this a job???”

Dancin’ as the boat hops over wave after wave, it’s hard to notice the difference between my co-workers and the guests… because everyone is getting smashed.

With white girls who shake their ass better than most black women I know… to our very own ladies man (who tamed 6 dancers from Finland)… I’d say this Stoke crew is something for the record books.

Partying amongst a great blend of wild dancers and wasted youths you find yourself havin’ so much fun you forget your cruisin’ along the coast of Barcelona, Spain.

Possessing sights that can blow your mind away, you can find yourself in awe of its beauty…until one of the girls start gettin’ low right in front of you…. Then any man’s attention would switch over to one thing… ASS!!

With a never-ending flow of alcohol and good tunes you can discover yourself quotin’ lyrics from legendary ganja-smokers like Notorious B.I.G. and Kid Cudi with your umpteenth beer in hand.

Eventually after 2 hours of madness we made it back to port, but things were far from over…. whether the after-party continued in the bar, club or the bedroom, everyone continued to have  a stoked time. 😉

Mid-party I remember having a wild thought which was,

“Fuck being good to go to Heaven…. because I’m already there.”

Care to join the party? Look us up at Stoke Travel.

Promo Code: Randy

P.S. I’m not entirely sure, but I may have completed all of the above with a dislocated toe… but in a city like Barcelona, you’re never really sober enough to figure it out. Come here and you’ll see. 😉

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3 responses to “The Stoke Chronicles

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