Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Getting together with my gal pals always starts off with classy intentions.

Sometimes, we start at a local Nashville winery where the owner is out and about rubbing elbows with visitors. And being that this winery dude used to be in one of country music’s biggest duos, Brooks and Dunn we have no shame in asking for a photo, naturally.

Patiently waiting for a neon moon with Kix Brooks while guzzling wine.

Typically on a ladies night, we begin with good intentions all dolled up with our lipstick still in tact.

Pretty in pink with lipstick, of course.

Then after about a cocktail and a half, photo shoots commence while our love for one another gushes throughout conversations.

I love you. No I love you! But I loooove you, Girl.

Once love is professed, it’s time for shots.

Cheers to classy times.

And then hell starts to break loose…like taking pictures of our party in the back of a mini van.

Yep, that’s how we roll.

We feel free to ditch the shoes and any ounce of dignity as our killer heels hurt our feet.

Who needs shoes when you have booze?!

Our magical powers of prowess surface as we will our significant others to call us.

Pleeeeeeeeease call!

We find other uses for feminine products while on cocktail number five.

No Botox needed when you have a maxi pad.

The fun on girls night out never stops – not even for pangs of hunger.

Won’t stop. Can’t stop.

Us trashtacular gals know when it’s time to stuff our faces like truck drivers in order to keep the party going.

Eating cheeseburgers is hilarious business.

Once our bellies are full, we charge on divulging deep, dark secrets.

Trust me, your secret is not safe with me.

Photo ops get a little trying as we start to lean like the Tower of Pisa.

Wait, you leaning left or right?

Once we start feeling fat from cramming food in our bellies, yoga moves seem like a good idea.

A plank pose. Who’s with me?

And then we get to feeling crafty. Who doesn’t want a marker creation on their forehead?

Trust me. This is the best smiley face ever.

No gals evening is ever complete without the appearance of jazz hands.

Treating ten digits like extra accessories.

An evening with my sophisticated crowd wouldn’t be the same without helping a lady to a chair.

Hey-oh! It’s not a GNO until someone is groped.

But all good things must come to an end.

NOOOOOOOOO I never want the party to end!

NOOOOOOOOO I never want the party to stop!

Some of the bigger bawl babies have to be coddled – soothed into knowing there will be another night to galavant around with the girls.

Tell me I’m going to be OK…

Coming home in the morning light isn’t as glamorous as Cyndi Lauper makes it out to be but at least my mother isn’t yelling at me to get my life right.