A torched cherry-flavored experiment in gluttony and social networking, the folks behind Hotel Thrillist: Miami surely outdid themselves at the Fontainebleau this month. Is it one of those “you check in, but you never check out” types of gimmicks? No. Does it leave a taste of “Hotel, motel, Holiday Inn” in your mouth? Maybe. Did I secrete Boom Boom for days upon my return to New York? Unfortunatleyslashfortunately yes.

So how does one Hotel Thrillist? Step one: Arrive, fashionably whenever (also good if your plane is grounded thanks to exploding lavatories), inspect swag, tweetle several ridiculous photos of you plus swag plus the Fontainebleau, send your coordinates to Nick McGlynn (photographer extrodinaire) via ESP and have him take copious amounts of useless photos of you holding said swag: For instance HERE, HERE, and HERE.

Proceed to tropical storm cocktail hour by the pool, gale-force winds free of charge and surprise yourself by not hating your first Bacardi Torched Cherry and Coke of the weekend. It helped to brave the storm.

Step 2: Wipe off the Florida rain, gussy yaself, and mingle with some damnfabulous people at the Bacardi sponsored pre-dinner fete. Have yourself another TC & Coke and taste a sampling of Miami’s finest culinary delights: Gotham Steak, Hakkasan, Solo, and the most mouth-watering how-can-you-exist truffle polenta from Scarpetta. (I need you.)

Step 3: Without a 5-hour enegry retailer near by, Boom Boom instead and try to sip another TC&C at Liv, the sparklyest upon sparklyest of the Klubz on the beach. Convenient for us, since it’s in the hotel. That’s a step step, trip trip down the hall, tap tap in the elevator, and another hop, jump, and a trip right to the line (which we skipped). Sup.

Performance by J. Cole.

Step 4: Spend the next day swimming in a sea of TC&C under the hot firey Florida sun. Your options include the pool, the cabana, the other pool, the bazaar, the water slide, and THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. If you need to recover/adjust your pupils to the light, there’s a Bobby Flay-worthy grill challenge happening poolside. If you can bear it, slip on ya Stunnas and get some custom quickie couture from Krel. She fits, cuts, clips, twists, rips, and sews you into an organic creation in less than five minutes. What’s not to love?

Performance by Kat DeLuna.

Step 5, 6, 7, 8 and beyond: Head to Red Steakhouse, where they may/may not have great steaks, but they sure do have great desserts. Hide your Harry Potter-esque magically-refilling glass of TC&C  from the tornado lightening, watch a capoeira troupe beat their drums, talk to a parrot, beware the fire dancer, befriend a baby gator (get a lil nostalgic about college), and do your best at battling any self-esteem issues you may have as an onslaught of sex-personified Miami Heat dancers surprise everyone with a jig.

Retreat to Fontainebleau for a–suprise!–TC night cap (no longer an informed decision of your now cherry-tinted taste buds, but a good vs. evil-esque battle between common sense and the Bacardi gods, which you are shamelessly losing) , a little star gazing, and a greater admiration for everyone that invited you there (don’t they work hard!).

Post Hotel Thrillist? Go home and follow all your new friends on twitter: @DevonGiddon @BoomBoomBaby @Marv_Carbonado @Bespoken4 @AsherT @Boehmcke @EmilyGannett @sheerling @chumiston Or just THIS WHOLE LIST.

Miss you, Miami!

(photos by Nick McGlynn/Random Night Out and my polaroid camera…or something).