When the last king of Hollywood shatters his glass on the floor

Last week while administering an exam, I got a phone call from one of my friends. Obviously I didn't answer. A few minutes later I got another call. Then a text. I figured it must be important, so I took my phone out of my pocket to see what was going on. Turned out that they had a suite at Planet Hollywood for the weekend, but weren't going to be able to use it that night. They wanted to know if I wanted it. Of course I did, because, hey, free suite.

It turned out to be the Sharon Stone suite, with a bunch of memorabilia from various movies starring her. There were a bunch of pictures of her on the walls, outfits she'd worn in various movies displayed in huge cases around the suite, and coffee tables/end tables with glass tops and props from her movies, including her cigarette case, the ice pick, the lie detector machine, etc. from Basic Instinct. It was kind of cool.

I took a bunch of pictures, but something was wrong with the lighting in the room, my camera, or both, so none of them turned out and you're going to have to take my word for it since the pics below don't do it justice. Which is a shame, because as I texted my friend upon my arrival, there were so many nice surfaces, I wouldn't even begin to know which one to first snort my coke off of.

Anyway, here are the few that actually look decent:
The bed:


The nightstand (aka, coke snorting surface number three):


The view the next morning (because the really cool night shots were all blurry):


Memorabilia table (aka, coke snorting surface number one)


Also unfortunately, I spent the night alone. I told a friend the next morning that if there was ever a room for housekeeping to enter only to find my dead body slumped over a pile of cocaine, or naked in the closet with a belt around my neck, that would've been the room.

Ah, missed opportunities.