So, after what seemed to be an eternal flight to complete nothingness, we finally land in Guam. Not really knowing what to expect from this tiny speck on the globe, we touched ground to an army of Jabba fanatics, complete with signs, leis and a big red Hummer limo with the insignia pasted on the door. Even the customs officers that were escorting us outside were snapping pictures. Phil leans to me and asks, "Are we gonna need security for our security?"
The minute we step outside, It's like the movie Backdraft. A sudden rush of heat wraps around my face like a hot towel. Luckily, the AC was blasting in our limo. So much so, it started to get super-chilly. Finding a balance in temperature was a bit of a fight. Finally, our ride dumps us off at our BALLIN'-ASS hotel. The first to greet us was Phi, who had flown in from Canada earlier that day.
I don't know who thought it would be funny to stick Phil and I in room 666, but we got a few laughs from that. After putting our bags down and wiping off a good layer of sweat, we were led through the freight elevator and through the kitchen to our V.I.P. meet-and-greet at the hotel's bar. The scene was a lot like Goodfellas. I attempted to get a one shot, but my camera can only take so much at such a high quality. Suddenly, the door flies open...
BOOM! Cameras flashing, people screaming, music blasting, as they announce our arrival. The boys take the stage as Fred and I (the road manager and the lowly DJ) watch on. After a formal introduction to Guam, we find our way to V.I.P., where we enjoy Subway sandwiches and shots of some red shit that tasted like Maraschino Cherry Syrup and Jager. The DJs drop some breaks (shouts to Wrexxshop), and the fellas take turns freestyling as Chris catches up with his G-U fam. After getting completely smashed (well I was, for sure), we retire to our assigned rooms to catch some much-needed Zs.
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