How to Make an Ass of Yourself in a Fancy Vegas Bar

Hey, is that Kate Upton?

Hey, is that Kate Upton? Nope. Just an asshole tourist trying to tear diamond decor from the wall.

It all started with good intentions.

On the last morning of my inaugural Vegas trip, I realized that I’d barely ventured outside of any hotel property I’d stepped foot in (MGM Grand, Hard Rock Casino) and thought it’d be best to check out the strip before heading to the airport to catch a late afternoon flight.

The problem is, we started at The Cosmopolitan where I immediately morphed into a raccoon with all of the sparkly, shiny, lighted decor glowing all around me.

Shoemazing!

A lady who could live in a shoe. A fabulous, high-heeled shoe.

The height of my sensory overload peaked at The Chandelier bar which was a must stop for a late morning cocktail (it’s Vegas, don’t judge. And plus, it’s football season and perfectly acceptable to drink liquor before noon, right?) and where I threw any remaining ounce of classiness out of my body.

Hello Heaven.

Hello Heaven.

We thought one drink wouldn’t hurt before heading out to catch a few last hours of sun and fun down the Las Vegas strip.

Happy breakfast cocktail!

Cheers for breakfast cocktails!

But then we made new friends like Olga from Germany (who had harsh love advice for me but kept padding it with liquor, so I listened).

And this started happening. Over and over.

Then this happened.

Three times the fun!

As the libations kept being poured, we didn’t want our Vegas vacay to end (and I didn’t really want to leave the confines of another hotel property), so we pushed our flight back a few hours in order to keep the day party going (who cared if the new arrangements had us landing at 1am and we had to work the next morning? We certainly didn’t mind. Until the next morning arrived, of course).

If we hadn’t changed our flight, this photo shoot would never have taken place (who really needs to walk the strip, anyhow?).

holla

That’s right. A daytime photo shoot on Vegas hotel stairs might have given me an elbow rash.

And if we’d kept our previous travel plans, I never would have been able to strain my back trying to attain the perfect arch for my new modeling portfolio.

Started off as Gisele

Can someone help me flip over? Please? Seriously. Help.

What would fancy Las Vegas casino bars do without trashtacular tourists such as myself?

Be a million notches classier, perhaps?

CBXB

CBXB!

Vegas Style Twerkin’ Cool Down

Ah…spending the day at the Hard Rock pool Rehab as a Vegas first timer was quite the eye opener. With the drunken shenanigans taking place all around, I sealed myself in tightly with my two new gay besties, who happened to be sporting the best t-shirts of all time. A kitty DJ tee for one and a tank that read $uper Rich for the other.

Horsie head

My newly acquired Vegas besties. Kitty Cat DJ and $uper Rich as horse head.

While I sat back and drank (guzzled) poolside cocktails these two were busy twerking for any stranger that would stop and take a gander.

Twerk it

Over twerked and on the ground.

Of course all of this bouncing around will make one ultra hot. But instead of cooling off in the more traditional way of sucking down a pina colada, we though it would be way more fun to start the cooling process bottom up.

Twerk

Twerked out? LOL.

twerk

We’ll be happy to help cool you off.

ice

Step 1: Prepare for ice.

twerk

Step 2: Insert ice.

ice

Step 3: Fill to brim.

Packi it up packit in

Step 4: Pack it up, pack it in.

twerk

Step 5: Allow no movement while ice melts.

melting...

Step 6: Enjoy the numbness that has overcome your lower body.

As you can tell, the poolside cocktails made us masters in the talents of a twerking cool down. Feel free to use our technique on your buddies this weekend.

You’re welcome Miley Cyrus.

CBXB

CBXB!

What Happens in Vegas Gets Posted on a Blog

Finally recuperated enough to reminisce about my first trip to Vegas last weekend, I thought it’d only be fair to share shenanigans with you…

Holy shit!

This drink was free! I love this place!

Some of my gal pals were smart and rested up on the four-hour plane ride to Vegas…

Rest up

Visions of jackpots danced in their heads.

While my seat mate and I were busy hoarding every ounce of liquor possible to get a head start on fun.

oopsie

We’re the smart ones, yes?!

We're heeeeere!

We’re heeeeere!

Upon landing we gathered our luggage and headed to the MGM Grand Casino.

It's grand, yo!

It’s grand, yo!

Having our complimentary casino cocktails in hand, we stood in a corner people watching where we happened to run into snazzy looking gents on a bachelor party. First impressed by their suits, upon opening their mouths we swooned, as they were from England and had that accent. *Sigh* Once the fellas started talking to us, one of our extremely intelligent ladies asked, “Are you guys from British?”

Smart suits

I don’t care if you’re from British or not, just look at the camera so I can capture this Kodak moment.

After the bachelor party carried onto do whatever it is bachelor parties do in Vegas (does one really have to wonder?), I got busy doing what I do best.

Photo bombing.

Very

Oh, you wanted a photo without yours truly? I don’t think so!

Very

This is a very hard hobby, but someone’s gotta ruin other people’s pics.

Very busy

Love what they’ve done with the background, don’t you?

While I was busy ass clowning around, our gal pal C Money went over to play some penny slots. And then this happened….

Jackpot!

Jackpot!

Just when you thought no one won on penny slots – BOOM! And, this was within the first three hours of our Vegas arrival.

Jackpot!

Celebrate we must.

After crawling into bed at 8am the following morning, it only made sense for me to sit my ass at the pool all day. While on my way to act like a beached whale,  I took the liberty of introducing myself to what could only be described as my soul mate…I mean, he made his own mirrored jacket.

Shiny soulmate

Shiny soul mates.

Deciding which pool to lounge around proved to be a tad difficult…

Lazy river

How do you choose between four pools?

Naturally, I went for the most quiet, relaxing spot in all of the MGM Grand pools.

So relaxing. Bumper floats.

So relaxing. Bumper floats.

In between naps, this gentleman asked our group to pretty please re-pierce his ears. We happily obliged.

Pierced!

You can just keep that hoop, Bra. Looks better on you anyhow.

While I did not gamble one cent away in Vegas, I still had some good juju going on. I scored a free ticket to the I Heart Radio Music Festival at the MGM Grand. For a split second I thought about scalping the ticket, as they were going for $480 but thought better of it, as this was a once in a lifetime experience.

I heart radio!

A free ticket with no strings attached? Yes please!

Keeping my liver well hydrated was my main focus on this trip. Thank God we packed the moonshine, as this helped wash away all of the hours of sleep I wasn’t giving to my body.

Touchdown!

Who needs sleep when you got moonshine?

Morphing into our best bad asses, we partied at the Hard Rock Casino with Motley Crue.

Crew at Motley Crue

Our crew at Crue.

Bad Ass 1 and 2

We know. We’re so bitchin’.

Hanging with rock stars Saturday night, called for some recovery time at the Hard Rock Casino pool – known as Rehab (which my mother nervously Googled when I told her I was headed to rehab).

Rehab

Again with the quiet, relaxing pool day.

Horsie head

What is more serene than hanging out with a new crew – one sporting a horse head? Nothing.

Being one of the last few escorted (surprised? I just didn’t want the party to end!) out of the pool after sundown, I headed to my room to find my own jackpot left for me by one of my girlfriends…

Winner winner chicken dinner!

Winner winner chicken dinner!

As I rounded up the aftermath of my Vegas trip and tried shoving it all in my suitcases, I knew that this city and I had just consummated the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Can't wait

I can’t wait to go back.

But it’s probably wise to give Las Vegas a breather before hitting it like a sparkly, loud, sleepless, sort-of-inebriated, photo bombing Tasmanian devil again.

NashVegas will have to do for now.

CBXB

CBXB!

Party Pooped

You’d think that I’d be the one in major recovery after spending four full days (which at this point, felt like years) in Vegas. Yet, while I am still trying to dry my liver out, my fur ball Ted acts like he danced on poles non-stop while I was away.

Unbearable

My Vegas stories exhausted Teddy, who apparently didn’t get his 23 hour nap yesterday.

Thankfully, I was well-educated and earned an additional degree in cocktailing (my mom is beyond proud) from the University of Iowa (ranked as one of the top party colleges in the country – much to parental dismay. But it’s actually the best of both worlds, really. I retained my education AND never miss a day from work due to a hangover. Thanks for the party schooling U of I!)

With the help of Pedialyte (thanks Nate and Al), consecutive hours of sleep (thanks Tylenol PM), greasy food (love you McDonald’s) and hair of the dog (Captain, vodka, wine), I’m feeling like a normal human again but still look like death warmed over.

Death warmed over...

Looking so good, I’ve been hiding behind my stage 5 clinger.

And while Mr. Bear can barely muster his little neck up on his shoulders, I’ve been forced to snuggle non-stop on the couch with him since my return.

party pooped

Is this vacay hangover finished yet?!

I hope you’re feeling better than Ted. And I truly hope you’re looking better than moi. I’m resting up quickly – there’s tailgating to partake in this weekend!

Cheers from the exhausted CBXB duo!

CBXB!

Vegas Virgin

Yes, you read that right. I’m a Vegas virgin.

And yes, I know you’re ultra confused how a gal who loves any and all things gaudy, sequined, shiny, fuchsia, leopard, sparkly (you get the picture) could have lived a life thus far without visiting my potential mothership of a city. Well, wonder no more because I’ll be gracing Vegas with my prescence later this afternoon!

The hardest part about preparing to travel to Las Vegas was deciding which pieces of my always flamboyant wardrobe would be accompanying me.

How much gaudy is too much?

How much gaudy is too much?

Good thing I have my trusty sidekick, Ted, who helped me narrow down my sequins.

Good thing I have my trusty side kick to help me narrow down my sequins.

He leaned toward the pink. Surprised?

But Tedstar was beyond disgusted to see that I was packing my Aunt Nancy’s 1960s white mini dress – you know, just in case I meet Mr. Right Now and decide to get hitched after knowing someone all of one day in Vegas (I mean, it can happen, right?).

Disgusted to see I was packing a white dress "just in case" I meet Mr. Right Now and decide to get hitched Vegas style.

Mr. Bear was so disgusted, he refused to move off of the white garment.

Then the little love of my life laid down on my wedding mini, staking his claim by rubbing his scent and dark fur all over the place.

So he laid down on my wedding mini, staking his claim.

She’s MINE.

Of course after all of 14 minutes of helping me choose attire and throwing a tantrum over non-existent wedding bells, Teddy was exhausted.

And then surrendered to sleep, as he was exhausted after three minutes of helping me pack.

Surrendered to sleep.

Keep your fingers crossed that all of my bling makes it through airport security and that I don’t bring a Mr. CBXB back to Nashville with me.

Look out Vegas, here I come!

CBXB

CBXB!