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“You’re the girl from Spiderman, right? The redhead?” he asked with a loud laugh, looking me up and down.
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“You remind me of my wife when we first met. You are magnificent.” He took my hand with both of his and kissed my knuckles. He was wearing a bedazzled fedora over his white hair, a red silk robe, and smoking slippers. Out of nowhere, an old man, probably 75-ish years old, approached me. I think she’s technically a villain, but I wasn’t there to get into geeked-out debate.Ī post shared by Mario Cruz on at 5:25am PDT Also, I don’t think Harley Quinn is a superhero. I was drunk enough at that point that I didn’t care.
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Honestly, it was a look that screamed “$20 a pop,” but whatever. I can’t fit my tits in it,” she whispered as she cupped her massive fake boobs and jiggled them around.įast forward 20 minutes, and I was wearing a Harley Quinn outfit, complete with smeared red lipstick, fishnets, and a “Daddy’s Lil’ Monster” crop top that hardly contained my boobs. “You’re not wearing a costume? Why not?” she asked, slurring her words a little.įull disclosure: I hadn’t come prepared. One woman, who was dressed as a really slutty Wonder Woman, took a good look at my lobster-motif sweater, and wobbled over to me with her clear stripper heels, her cocktail sloshing around with each step. On the second night, the theme of the evening was “Sexy Superheroes,” and I was sitting at a table near the pool bar, enjoying my fourth glass of wine, and there were a bunch of scantily clad couples smoking cigarettes near me. They literally wasted no time shedding their clothes despite it being 60-something brisk degrees in autumnal Northern Italy.Īnd just so you know, as much as I would have loved to snap some pictures of the madness I was seeing around me to share with the world, photography was strictly prohibited in public areas of the ship. Not even half of the 690 passengers had boarded the ship at that point, and there was already a nudist colony of at least 50 people gathered around the pool, ass naked. I opened the door to the deck, and lo and behold: Dicks. The second was my sip-glass that I intended to nurse for, like, an hour, but I ended up chugging that one, too.Īfter dropping my bags off in my stateroom, I decided to pay a little visit to the pool deck, since I heard that’s where all the naked people would be. It was crowded and loud, so I smiled politely at the staff and grabbed not one, but two glasses of champagne and hastily dumped one of them into my mouth. When I first boarded the ship in the evening, I was greeted by a row of crew members who were holding trays of champagne and shouting “HELLO” and “WELCOME” and “BUONGIORNO” at me. So, in essence, it was like a cruise on steroids.
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There were just so many naked people, raunchy theme nights, and horny middle-aged couples going at in public…but in a very luxurious and classy environment. It was an experience that’s difficult to put into words. That’s exactly what it was, but in a classy way. Here’s the thing: when I stepped onto the ship, I almost expected to pass through some kind of pornographic wormhole to a universe where everything would be sex, sex, alcohol, and sex – and I was right.