DP Club Does Vegas

I was in Vegas about 24 hours. And my girls managed to far exceed what I thought our tired ol' 30-ish crew could muster. But dammit if that pumped in oxygen ain't magic. It was awesome.

EastCoast hubby planned the whole thing. He's awesome, and it's totally cool that they are right-wingers since they never say offensive things. I kind of forget that they even are "conservatives". That could be in part since the last word I would ever use to describe HER is conservative, with respect to personality. She's sweet and hilarious. She rules. This weekend was all for her big 30 and it was too much fun.

We chilled at the pool all day as a group. Some had been in the day before so were a tad hungover. WestCoast was hungover from a big night out in SF the night before. But we all napped and ate well so that we were ready to go on Sat night. A man named Stuart rode the Greyhound for nine hours for this event, so we could not disappoint.

I had bought a new hoochie top for Vegas, but a few hours at the pool left me with a sick trailer tan, with candycane stripes decorating my cleavage, so i had to borrow a top. I managed to show the tan to everyone anyway. All Class.

Anyhoo, so we went to a very nice dinner at "Tableau" at Wynn. It was so elegant. We were loud and tacky, but no one seemed to mind. We didn't get kicked out. THe waiter had a googly eye, but was otherwise hot. Some of our group flirted with him a bit. I love hot waiters. I could live with a hot man serving me tasty food and champagne in a nice suit. It works. I may even be able to forgive the googly eye. Anyway, birthday girl had an amazing cake and most of were drinking chocolate martinisand champagne. Topics of conversation included gangbangs and dirty secrets of those who chose not to show up. Good stuff. The men left our sophisticated presence and turned us loose into the night.

We meant to make it to a club, but stopped off at a lounge in the casino. LURE. It was pretty cool. Needless to say,this is where things went from classy to....well, we became DP Club. Yes, it was panty shots and groping, and disgusting behaviours designed to crack ourselves up. I mean, who wouldn't find a birthday girl in a classy black dress, grabbing our tall gorgeous blonde friend by the back of the neck, bemding her over from the back and simulating a butt ramming hump hysterical? HIlarious. Especially as the reciever is screaming, in mock surprise, her name. Brought me to tears. Nevermind that this is "lounge" environment, and the majority of everyone else is totally chillin. Ah... good times.

Some smelly old creeps let us into their VIP lounge where they gave us a lot of free drinks. They were pretty gross but they didn't seem to need much attention. They were amused just watching us. I should clarify here. I did not represent the club very well. I was wearing pants and a shirt with a lot of coverage, so I showed no undergarments. I only drank a few beers so I did not simulate anything very amusing, and I should have to turn in my club card.

After LURE, we headed for cabs. A man arriving at Wynn was trying to get out of his cab. We were on top of him before he could get his wallet out. Yellling "Get out. Get out. Get the F Out" Eventually, Club DP just climbed on top of him and got in. he slithered out. So did I. Myself and another took another cab so were not able to witness Club DP get kicked out of the cab. Cab driver turned it off and left and went for security. So CLub DP had to find alternative transportation.

They did. Only it ended up costing more than they thought, since they were unaware that if you puke in a cab, there is a surcharge and a very pissed cabbie.

Needless to say, the night ended there. Except for a little drunk dialing and passing out in other people's rooms. For me, I had a blast. I do feel a tad bit guilty for not coming out in full effect but I am on allergy meds, and sniffling up a a storm. I also was expecting company the next day so I didn't want to be out of commission.

I love those girls. Every single one of those dirty girls.