VEGAS RECAP: Porn Stars, 9/11 Remembered, A Significant Injury And Massive Bar Fight Narrowly Avoided

The latest Las Vegas adventure is in the books, and it's a miracle the crew isn't in prison or bankrupt.

*Note: Some names and specifics have been removed to protect national security (that's not a joke).....and to protect significant others. Everything you're about to read is real. If your wife is watching, I'd suggest moving to a different room. Let's roll.

I'm sitting at a bar at Harry Reid International Airport as I write this, and I could use a few days of sleep. The past five days have been a tornado of chaos and carnage in the best way possible.

To say I'm exhausted would be an understatement. I'm not exhausted. I simply have no energy left at all. I can't remember the last night I slept well. That's what happens when you come to Sin City to battle the demons Las Vegas throws at you like a big-league pitcher mowing down batters.

I've kept copious notes since the trip started to make sure OutKick's readers get as clear of a picture as they can....to the best of my recollection.

For those of you who didn't read my Vegas advice piece (what is wrong with you?), I do an annual trip to Vegas. For the most part, it's just a guys trip. It's an opportunity for friends and family from all over the country to get together, catch up, drink some booze, hit the tables and hope we don't do anything to ruin our careers or relationships by the time our planes take off to go home.

This is the story of the 2023 trip. A trip that will likely not be forgotten in the near future. Buckle up and set your self-righteousness aside if you have any. What you're about to read is a story forged in battle. The highest of highs. The lowest of lows. This isn't for the weak of heart, but seeing as how you're an OutKick reader, I know you have the stomach for this. Grab a beer and enjoy.

Day One in Las Vegas - Sunday

I'm up at 4:30 am, and I couldn't be more excited. The girlfriend is heading out to for a lengthy work trip, my bags are packed, my money is locked up in a secure traveling location along with my passport, the Hookstead compound will be empty for the foreseeable future and I couldn't be more excited.

There's just one problem.

I walk into the kitchen to grab some coffee before hitting the shower, and I see the freezer door is open by about a foot. Not ideal. My interrogation skills tell me my girlfriend went to bed at about 11:30. That means this door has been open for at least five hours. Not good. Not good at all. The food is ruined, and it's now in the trash. Not how I was hoping to start my Las Vegas vacation, but if my friends in Delta Force have taught me anything it's that you have to adapt.

There's nothing I can do to save the freezer at this point. It is what it is. My focus is getting to the airport and I can already taste the first beer on my lips.

Grab an Uber, and I'm at the airport a solid hour before we board. I couldn't be more excited. I wonder if this is what guys feel like going into battle knowing they are going to crush the enemy. There's no better feeling in life than what I'm experiencing right now. The anticipation is killing me.

I immediately hit the bar, order a pair of drinks and I've got the perfect buzz. Not too much, but just enough. Again, no better feeling. I'm in my seat on the plane, melatonin is kicking in and I'm lights out for the next three hours and change. Wow, am I feeling refreshed or what?

Next up is "The Hangover" to finish the rest of my flight and we're now wheels down in Sin City. It's a race to the hotel, food, some beer and gambling in that order on my schedule.....or so I thought.

We have a major problem on our hands.

Right as I'm handed a buffalo chicken wrap, I feel my phone vibrate. Probably the girlfriend checking in, right? Wrong.

I'm about to receive a text that I couldn't have imagined receiving. One of the pillars of the Vegas crew is a pretty high ranking employee of the United States government (name redacted) and I have now been informed on short notice he's out. I can't say much more in the name of national security, but as tough as a pill as it is to swallow, I understand him not showing up. Freedom has a high price and it must be paid daily.

I'm bummed, but it's just one man. We push forward. Well, things are about to get a hell of a lot worse. I get a second text.

Another crew member's girlfriend has been robbed. is now also staying back to take care of his girlfriend.

This actually leads to a brief disagreement between my girlfriend and I that I won't get into here. Ask me again in two decades and I'll explain the disagreement. I think most guys will side with me.

Well, I haven't been in Vegas for more than 30 minutes at this point and two guys are already out for serious reasons. Losing one guy is bad. Losing two has put us on the brink of disaster before this trip even really gets started.

I won't lie. I'm now getting a bit worried. Very worried. Two guys down? This is so far shaping up to be the worst Vegas experience I've ever had, and I'm not optimistic.

Little do I know things are about to go from bad to much worse.

As those of you who read the preview piece know, I'm all about Stage Door and Ellis Island. I have one thing on my mind right now. Getting to Stage Door for some beer. I need to drown the pain that I'm feeling from losing two guys before the real opening salvo has started.

I get to Stage Door (remember this name because you'll be hearing it a lot), and immediately order two drinks. Why waste time ordering one and waiting for a second? Are we here to party or not.

I crushed two Budweisers before the bartender even knew what happened. We're rolling. I'm back to winning. I'm drinking to honor the two we left behind. Gone. Never forgotten. There's another looming disaster and I don't have any idea what's coming.

Ignorance is truly bliss.

Stage Door offers some great drinks at very cheap prices. (Credit: David Hookstead)

Next up is Ellis Island. It's the most underrated casino in all of Vegas. You can bet on 3:2 blackjack for as little as $5. What more could you ever want?

I get destroyed, and when I say I'm getting destroyed, I mean it in a way that you can't probably imagine. Whatever you're thinking, go ahead and multiple it by 10.

My bankroll is getting lit up by a Christmas tree. I'm out several hundred dollars before I even know what happened. It's a disaster. It's a bloodbath. I do the only thing I can. Push in my chips and walk away. I've bled enough today. So far, this trip has been off to an absurd start. Two guys out and I'm gutted at the tables.

Time to find some beer. First up is Hofbrauhaus near Virgin. It's a German place. Nothing crazy or fancy. I grab one beer. It's not bad, but I'm really looking forward to checking out Double Down Saloon.

Double Down Saloon is a popular Las Vegas establishment. (Credit: David Hookstead)

Double Down Saloon is always listed among the most popular dive bars in America. I love dive bars, especially in Las Vegas. While we all enjoy the strip, it's still great to get away and enjoy an awesome dive bar.

Enter Double Down Saloon. I enter it and it's as dark as dark gets. There's a total of four people in there. One guy appears to be having some kind of PTSD meltdown. I'm thinking to myself he must have seen some serious action. It's later revealed *IF I RECALL CORRECTLY* he was in the Coast Guard. What the hell goes on in the Coast Guard that could shake a guy up so much? We might never know.

Next thing I know I find myself in a conversation about Kyle Rittenhouse and the rooftop Koreans during the Los Angeles riots back in the day. What a bizarre and entertaining group of people.

Honestly, didn't love it. Didn't hate it. Glad I went once. Wouldn't go back again.

Double Down Saloon is popular among Las Vegas people. (Credit: David Hookstead)

At this point, I'm about ready to crash. I grab some Taco Bell - laugh if you want, but it's great post-drinking food - and I'm about to be lights out.

Day 1 has been a rollercoaster in the worst of ways, but the sun will come up tomorrow. The gunfight is just getting started after all.

Day 2 - Monday - Reinforcements arrive in overwhelming force.

Day 1 wasn't a bust, but as you can tell, it had a hell of a lot of issues. Don't worry. Help has arrived in the form of multiple experienced Vegas operators.

The tide has turned.

My feelings that this trip was on the brink of collapse have been crushed. Well, there was a minor morning comical dustup with the girlfriend.

Below is an actual text presented without comment. Enjoy.

This is a real text message my girlfriend sent me. (Credit: David Hookstead)

I will never apologize for comparing anything to Delta Force. It's a sign of respect. I view it as the highest compliment a person can receive because those dudes are legit the coolest people on the planet. Enjoy your Hollywood celebrities. I'll take guys from Delta every day of the week. I digress.

As I'm sure many of you know, I'm a morning person. I enjoy being up hours before the sun, and Las Vegas is no different.

I'm up before 5 am on The Strip walking. Nothing is more under-appreciated than Vegas in the morning.

Below is a look at the area from the walkway by the Wynn. Incredibly underrated.

Las Vegas in the morning is incredibly underrated. (Credit: David Hookstead)

It's time for breakfast, and I'm about to enjoy the best deal in town. I'm back at Ellis Island for a $9.99 steak and eggs special. I'm not hungover, but I am tired. This is an injection of life into my soul.

The phone goes off. Everyone has landed and three of them are already grabbing margaritas. For the sake of the article we will call them Vegas Operator 1, Vegas Operator 2 and Vegas 3.

We hit up Chayo by the Linq, and the first thing I ordered was a spicy marg. My stomach is full with steak, eggs and potatoes and the boys are now buzzing.

By the way, this restaurant charges a C&F fee. It's a scam. The waitress hands me the bill, and the first thing I say is I'm not paying your fake fees. She takes it off. Job well done.

Vegas Operator 4 and Vegas Operator 5 have arrived. They're at Stage Door with buckets of beers and they're flowing.

VO4 is a good friend of mine. We worked together for years, and he's the perfect Las Vegas teammate. The dude loves a great time, ALWAYS doubles down on a hard 12 and is guaranteed to give you more information about history than anyone you know.

I've never met VO5 before we walked into Stage Door. He's an old college friend of VO4, but this guy is about to captivate me.

He tells me he enjoys searching for snakes in his free time, just was at Tombstone and is in banking. I am hanging onto every word this guy says. A banker who hunts snakes for fun? I'm sold. More on VO5 later. Dude is unreal.

Remember, I was gutted Day 1 at Ellis Island. I lost so much money I damn near had to text my GF and ask if she'd make the mortgage payment. She's a good woman. She would if needed, but it's not going to matter because we go back to Ellis Island and kick its ass. Again, the tide has turned.

A cold beer at Ellis Island in Las Vegas. (Credit: David Hookstead)

I also see one of the most stunning things I've ever seen on a blackjack table in my life. VO4 draws a pair of eights against a dealer's nine.

Obvious split. He draws another eight and then a fourth. He now has four eights on the table against the dealer's nine. His rent payment might be sitting there. I'm sweating bullets and it's not even my money.

He miraculously pulls ALL four of his eights to victory against the dealer's nine and now is sitting on a very nice little bankroll. The tide has definitely turned.

At this point, we decide Fremont is calling our names. After a couple more beers, we hop into some Ubers and head to El Cortez.

We're immediately decimated. El Cortez is like walking into a time machine. It's awesome, and I will never apologize for loving it.

It also has reasonably cheap single deck blackjack. In theory, it's a card counter's heaven.If you know what you're doing, you should be just fine.

I do not know what I'm doing, and I lose a stack of money in the span of about 15 minutes. That's enough for me. I know when to walk away.

Next up is Hogs & Heifers.

VO4, VO5 and myself at Hogs & Heifers. (Credit: David Hookstead)

How does one explain Hogs & Heifers? How does one explain one of the best bars in America? Well, I'm going to take you guys through it like I went through it.

We show up and are immediately screamed at by three bartenders with bullhorns about how we're dressed like losers and I need to take my shirt off. The shirt is staying on, but I'm really enjoying the vibe. This is my kind of place. The drinks are cheap, the bartenders are fun and everyone is having a blast.

Little do I know it yet, but Hogs and Heifers will ultimately play a major role in the coming days. How blessed are we about to be? Very.

Monday ends back at Stage Door for a stream of Budweiser buckets. Upon entering, security asks me if I have a gun.

I simply respond, "If I do, do you think there's any chance in hell you're taking it off me?" The security guard does not like my joke, but then again, who says it was a joke?

I'm exhausted. Time for bed.

Day 3 - Tuesday - The porn star arrives.

I don't know it yet, but I'm about to have my worst morning in a very long time. As stated above, I really enjoy checking out Vegas right at the crack of dawn.

Grab a coffee and stroll. Sounds fun, right? Well, that's usually correct. It's not correct this morning. The sun is not fully up yet, it's still pretty dark and for some reason I don't understand, I'm wearing my sunglasses. Why? Why are my sunglasses on in the dark?

Makes no sense, and it's even more embarrassing considering the fact I'm stone cold sober right now. What happens next is simply unacceptable on my part.

I saw an automated walkway by the Venetian like you see in airports, and for some reason, just jumped on it assuming it was moving in the direction I was going.

It was not. It was very much going in my direction. It bucked me off and I went flying. In the process, I completely rolled my ankle. I seriously fear my ankle is broken and that my ACL is torn. I am in an unreal amount of pain and probably a solid half mile from where I need to be. Horrible start to Day 3. You thought Day 1 was bad when some guys dropped out? This is that 100x.

Below is the exact spot it happened. Playing it back in my mind, it's clear that what happened was my sunglasses made it too dark to see the movement of the track. The rest is history. I'm now in an outrageous amount of pain.

The exact spot I hurt my ankle. (Credit: David Hookstead)

Am I about to be stuck in Las Vegas unable to walk? This fear has washed over me, and it's a serious one.

I decide to push forward. If the guys on D-Day didn't back down, I'm damn sure not letting a seriously hurt ankle ruin my vacation.

We soldier on.

Now, we spend some time at the shops in Caesars looking for some Luke Fickell memorabilia and then decide to do a little more gambling before heading back down to Fremont to keep the party rolling.

Remember when I said VO5 was a fascinating guy who searches for snakes and is in banking? I literally watch this guy with my own eyes hand a random person on the street with a guitar $10 to play it.

VO5 shredding on a guitar. (Credit: David Hookstead)

VO5 grabs the guitar and starts SHREDDING on the street in Las Vegas. Is this guy Jason Bourne? He's hunting snakes in his free time and can play the guitar like a rock star? Seriously, what the hell is going on? I'm not just impressed. I'm stunned. This guy is awesome.

Real quick note. We're all wearing matching shirts at this point that say "Double down on 12" in reference to VO4's love of doubling down 12s and it says "ride the lightning" at the top.

Some people might cringe at matching shirts, but this is the guys trip. We do what we want.

A look at our custom shirts for the 2023 trip. (Credit: David Hookstead)

Everyone is buzzing by the time we find ourselves back at Fremont. Life is good, and we find ourselves back in Hogs & Heifers.

I just realized this place has a 9/11 memorial and entire section dedicated to the war on terror. I'm fascinated.

Why does a bar in Las Vegas have a tribute to all those lost in 9/11 and those who fought? I need to find out, and I'm in luck because the owner is in.

We talk for about half an hour and he takes me through the entire area. It's incredible. It's the most patriotic display I've ever seen in a bar in my life. The owner - a great woman - passionately explains her ties to 9/11 from her time in New York and her great love for America.

Specifically, the tribute features one man who died as a member of the Port Authority. His name was later put on a bomb dropped in Afghanistan. The entire thing is chronicled.

Hogs & Heifers is a very patriotic bar in Las Vegas. (Credit: David Hookstead)

Hogs & Heifers is pro-America and pro-military. (Credit: David Hookstead)

Now, you're probably wondering where this porn star comes into the scene. Well, buckle up. I notice there's a blonde woman tatted up chatting with one of the bartenders.

When I say tatted up, I don't mean a few tattoos. I mean she is TATTED up. Her body has more ink on it than the Declaration of Independence. I've never seen a person in my life with more tattoos. To quote the great Dan Dakich, "I ain't mad about it," but I am curious.

She seems to be drawing attention from a random guy in the bar. It's then brought to my attention this woman is a porn star. Now, I'll be the first to admit my adult filmography knowledge isn't great. All the porn stars who are friends of mine are at least in their 30s, and many are 40+. Yes, I know a lot of porn stars thanks to my work and social circles over the years. Don't make a big deal about it.

This woman appears to be in her mid-20s, and she is here to party. I have so many questions about what she's doing here. Just moments ago, I was talking about 9/11 and Delta Force. Now, there's a porn star getting hassled in the bar.

Turns out, she's in some kind of relationship with the bartender - who is also tatted and a former stripper. Seriously, what the hell is going on?

Oh, did I mention these women continue to roast the hell out of us? The beers are flowing, I'm intrigued and everyone is having a blast.

She's putting on a show later that night at a major Vegas strip club. I decline to go as I hate strip clubs, but this development was unexpected.

At this point, it's time to keep things moving. We've lost multiple members of the crew. They're down for the count due to some heavy drinking.

I should have gone to bed, but instead we decided to hit up another casino. It's a good decision because we go on a run and make a decent amount of money.

Time for bed. I don't know it yet, but Wednesday is about to be a war.

Day 4 - Wednesday - More porn stars and near bar brawls.

People are VERY hungover to start the day. I am not. I feel weirdly refreshed and ready to roll. It doesn't make sense, but I'm not complaining.

The first thing on the menu is hitting up La Vecindad for $20 all you can eat tacos. This place is north of the strip and kind of in the middle of nowhere.

It's incredible. I eat seven tacos in the blink of an eye. Fatigue has now set in. Not good. It's one in the afternoon, and I could fall asleep right there at the table. Not good. Not good at all.

Half the group is going back to sleep/hit the pool. Forget that. I'm not weak. We're hitting up the breweries.

The arts district of Las Vegas is a bit of a hidden gem. It's not as hidden as it once was, but it's still not that popular. It's loaded with breweries, and we hit up many.

None stand out as the best. All are solid.

Able Baker is a popular brewery in Las Vegas. (Credit: David Hookstead)

Next up is Frankie's Tiki Room. My expectations are high as we make our way to this bar, once again, in a random spot.

It's amazing. I have two drinks and VO4 and myself find ourselves in a lengthy conversation about WWII tanks.

These drinks are dangerous. They're delicious and there's no alcohol taste at all. However, the drinks are hardly the most interesting thing.

The bartender is Ukrainian and very based. She starts talking about politics, Zelensky, COVID and anything else you can think of. It's awesome. I can't get enough of her takes. Some real scorching hot ones, and then she says her dad is fighting the Russians.

She fires up her phone and shows me a photo of him with an AK-47 ready to rock and roll. One moment, we're randomly meeting a porn star. The next, we're talking with the most based Ukrainian I've ever met.

The fatigue is now gone. I'm ready to get after it. I've found my second wind. We decide that there's only one way to do our final night.

We're heading to Fremont and find ourselves back at Hogs & Heifers for our wildest experience yet. There's now a second porn star.

I'm seriously starting to wonder if I'm getting messed with. Just think about the statistical probability of that? It's not high. Yet, that's what happened and after a little due diligence, I have confirmation this is very real.

However, more adult film actresses is hardly the most interesting thing of this night. Not even close. Major trouble is brewing.

There's a Canadian clown who has had a bit too much to drink and he's trashing America. Not only is he loudly trashing America to me while standing in the most patriotic bar in the country, but he's also claiming he knows more about the USA than I do.

I'm now officially pissed. I wanted this guy to leave me alone. He wanted war. The enemy has a vote. I verbally cut loose on this guy. I'm giving it to him like he's getting shelled in Vietnam. It's a verbal massacre.

The idiot Canuck finally waves the white flag after being thoroughly embarrassed and leaves with his tail tucked between his legs. Enemy destroyed. Don't ever trash America to me and expect to not get humiliated.

Unfortunately, a second front in this war is about to start. A guy - completely unprompted - to my right turns and declares America deserved Pearl Harbor.

Are you kidding me? I just got done humiliating a Canadian and now VO4 and myself have to mere minutes later defend the USA's honor again?

VO4 very politely responds to this man's insane claim, but things are getting heated. Security comes flying in. They want to defuse the situation. I wanted to escalate.

You tell me America deserved Pearl Harbor and you're getting a verbal lashing and put in your place. Security isn't having any of it. Everyone is physically separated, and while this is happening, I turn to one of the security guards and tell him this dude said America deserved Pearl Harbor.

The guard, to his credit, acknowledges the fact we're dealing with an idiot. We're separated. Cooler heads have prevailed.

Did I mention my ankle still hurts? It does. I'm in a ton of pain. Oh, the bartenders can't get enough of the show we're putting on and we've meet some Australians who are partying HARD.

We grab some pizza and call it a night. We almost stayed out for some more beers. Thankfully, we did not. That would have been a huge mistake.

A piece of pizza from Slice House in the Fremont region. (Credit: David Hookstead)

Day 5 - Thursday - time to go home.

I wake up this morning and my head is banging from a lack of sleep and probably a few too many Coors Banquets.

However, I'm still high off the Adrenaline from the night before. We damn near were in two bar brawls and stumbled across multiple porn stars, strippers and wild people from Australia after crushing drinks at Frankie's Tiki Room to get things lubricated.

What a night. Best night of the trip by far, but all great things must end. I need a steak and a breakfast beer ASAP.

This is about my fourth or fifth steak of the trip. I love protein. Being in Las Vegas doesn't change that. I get steak and eggs, immediately proceed to get hosed at the tables and decide that's enough gambling for me.

On the trip, I think I left the tables down right around $400. It's hard to say for sure, but that's an early estimate. Not terrible given how many days I've been in Vegas.

Now, everyone is gone except VO4 and myself. We decide there's only one way to end this trip:

Beers at Stage Door. We suck down a few, I pack my bags and head to the airport. What a rush. Will the legend of Hogs & Heifers live on with all the people we met? Will they sing songs about us as ghosts who mysteriously disappeared as quickly as we appeared out of thin air?

Only time will tell. I'm also confident my ankle isn't broken at this point. The pain is dying down. We fought to the bitter end while injured. Lead from the front.

I get to the airport, order a pizza and strike up a conversation with a southern couple who tell me they pity the fact I live in Washington D.C.

Yeah, I pity myself too, but it's time to get back to reality.

Most importantly, I'm heading back home without my girlfriend breaking up with me, I'm not broke and while I'm injured, I'm not dead. That's a win in my book.

My only regret is I didn't hit the tables at the Wynn. That's the last place I need to conquer in Vegas before I've checked everything off.

Now, we sit and count the days until the 2024 trip. Something tells me there will be a lot of Hogs & Heifers (more porn stars?), Frankie's Tiki Room and debauchery. Now, please excuse me while I go rest my eyes. It's time for some rest.