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  • 0

    Welcome to the Douche Bag Safari!

    Sitting atop the Hard Rock Casino in Biloxi, MS rests the perfect storm of a douchbag nest, Club Rise. I attended a late night walking tour through Club Rise with a bachelor party group, eager to study the douche lifestyle in its natural habitat. All of the required gear for the safari was accounted for:

    Hair gel - check.
    Quasi-reflective shirt - i see glare, good to go.

    With our weekend hair up, we began the tour by waiting in the 30 person long line on the Hard Rock ground floor to the "special" elevator to the club. A quick survey of the line confirmed my suspicions that we were hitting the club on an overly douchebaggish night (due to full moon and local community college semester recently ending). I quickly spotted  several of your garden variety d-bags in the line: Your goomba douche (doucho Italiano) and Asain spiky hair db-gang (douchus Rice Rockitus), both of which must be approached quite cautiously due to the former's formidable size coupled with its inability to discern consequences in its decision making process, where the latter, although small and weak, employs a successful group fighting style. We observed these douches from our distance in the line, finally making our way to the club's bouncer (douchbagis Clipboardis). He quickly pulls out two of our douche safari tour members for being "too drunk" and another for wearing shorts. This particular encounter allowed us to closely study this elder douche's authoritative stare as he motioned for us to step to the elevator.

    We shared our elevator ride with some younger shiny haired d-bags (douchus Afflictionus). One of our drunker tour members started disco dancing and declaring, "This club sure is small, but it's cool how it feels like it's moving." Young douche 1, feeling a bit defensive possibly due to his enclosed environment, shouted out,  "Shut the fuck up, dude." Which was quickly met by the much larger drunk tour member asking, "Do those white shoes give you super powers?" followed with a "Here we go White shoes, here we go!" cheer that ended with the doors opening at our destination, Club Rise.

    Club Rise was kickin packed with douche-holes to elbows of all types and sizes. We headed over to the bar area and decided to follow the old adage, "When in Douche Vegas, do as the Douche Vegans do," by ordering a couple of Vodka and Redbulls. The $10 / pop Redbull and Absolutes came in tall and narrow glasses, and as I went for my first sip, I spotted one of the most elusive and pristine douches of all, the line dancing douche (douche bagus Cupid Shufflus)! Due to the music choice of their natural habitat (new hip hop or shitty techno), the line dance douche very rarely gets its chance to step out onto the dance floor and perform its mating ritual. And there it was, in all its glory, moving in unison with its potential mates to the right, to the right, to the right and so on. Remarkable.

    We stuck around for a while in admiration of these creatures from wild origins of public schools and beauty colleges in hopes to better understand their way of life. After our douche safari ended that night, we truly did understand how Biloxi has earned its reputation as being the very location where redneck meets coast trash. An unknown patron in the elevator ride down summed up our Club Rise experience better than anyone else when he said, "I'm in a club, in Biloxi, on my Saturday night. Fuck. My. Life." Well played, unknown soldier, well played.

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  • 0

    This is a really cool dance club & lounge located on the 12th floor of the Hard Rock Hotel.  I didn't even know it existed at first, but there is a small line where they check your ID and attire on the ground floor, then send you up a special elevator that opens at the top floor.   The club is VERY loud, with lots of lighting effects and a very busy bar.  No cover charge, but I bought two 16 OZ waters and was amazed at the price, $5 each!   I really enjoyed the balcony wrapping around the West-through East sides of the floor.  I did not enjoy the weird bathroom attendant; I'll grab my own paper towel, thank you.

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