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!

How to go to Rehab in Vegas and Not Get Peed on by R. Kelly

Yes, I went to Rehab in Vegas. And no it’s not the typical rehab you’re thinking of (it’s OK mom, no need to have a heart attack).

The Hard Rock Casino’s pool is known as Rehab and while I was gracing Vegas with my presence, the pool celebrated its 10th anniversary with none other than R. Kelly hosting the party AND performing.  How could I not go once I was invited by friends who were staying at the casino?

LOL

Me not attend a shindig? LOL.

Security was beyond tight, getting into the pool.  I was frisked up one side and down the other, had to take my sunglasses and hat off and my wallet was violated by dirty security guard fingers poking through its contents. My sunscreen was sniffed and the book my friend brought (yeah, not sure why we thought a book was appropriate for this party) was combed through. After this search, any airport security shenanigans will forever feel like a breeze.

Once granted entry, a peaceful (not for long) oasis awaited our arrival.  If you can, acquire a lounger if at all financially possible or you will get to stand in the yellow (that’s surely supposed to be blue) wading pool all day, waiting for your toenails to fall off.

Acquire a lounger if at all financially possible.

For your safety, put a towel between your body and the cushion. Just sayin’.

We had no problems getting all cozy and pretending as if this was an everyday occurrence in life.  For instance, when the waitress came by and told us about “the amazing special we have today for our anniversary. It’s a bottle of Ketel One Citroen and it’s only $495,” my jaw only remained open for 13 seconds instead of the typical 25 minutes that this kind of information would implore me to do. Nor did I say that I could go get that same bottle for $30 at my liquor store. Nor did I ask how much a bottle of $9 Skol vodka would cost. That’s how well I pretended. Impressed, aren’t you?

No big deal

Please. We do this every day. Can I get a tap water?

After my “I’m not impressed at your expensive price for regular liquor face” I couldn’t help but notice the buckets of Bud Light (only $75 for 12 – such a fair price) and the bottles of Ketel One being delivered to the Argentinian bachelor party bed in front of us.

Rehab

Upon conversing with the tipsy crew, they asked us if Sunday came after Saturday. Wonder what was really in the Ketel One bottles…

When the sticker shock sinks in, go to the bar (and be sure the bartender is the opposite sex) about 22 times and ask to sample the frozen drinks because you’re just not sure which one you want.

Sampler platter.

Sampler platter. That’s how I roll.

Attire is key when attending a soiree hosted by R. Kelly.  It’s important that you put on your finest threads.

Finest threads

Yes, I said threads.

It’s always more fun when you meet new friends, so go do it.

I saw this tall drink of gay water walking out of the pool with his tank top reading $uper Rich.  Our newfound friendship became further solidified when his partner came up in his DJ Angel Kitty tank. Yes, I said DJ Angel Kitty (and yes, my cray cray over my cat, Ted came up in conversation about 1.4 million times upon laying eyes on Dude #2’s shirt).

Gaywich

CBXB gaywich.

Angel kitty

Hello. I think we’re clothing soul mates.

If you’re worried about covering up your less-than-perfect body parts, no worries – you will fit right in at Rehab. I mean, check this gentleman out. As you can see, he was feeling a little insecure about his chest. But the beer belly was out in full glory.

Not this guy with his beer belly AC.

The beer belly AC technique.

When the host started singing, folks were a tad worried about getting pissed on. At least that’s what everyone kept saying (as he’s apparently known for doing this to women, specifically. Classy guy).

No peeing!

I didn’t see any urine.

Bananas

These people would have had zero clue if it even started raining, let alone if any type of body excrement fell on them.

Hearing all of this talk about number one led me to do some hiding, so that I could remain in a pristine, slightly sweaty state.

Hide behind a flag

I hid behind a flag with all of my new buddies.

Or a horse head.

I hid behind a horse head.

Or borrow a hat from a stranger and hide under it.

My friend borrowed a hat from a stranger and hid under it.

Hide behind friends

Lastly, I hid under a dog pile. I refused to get pissed on!

After playing hide and seek from the party host, keep the party going by twerking in front of complete strangers.

Twerk it

Nice angle.

Then help your new gay bestie keep the dance going by spanking him to the beat of songs.

Keep it going

Seriously? You like this?

And twerk.

My hand hurts.

Once everyone’s dancing heartbeats are back to a resting state, grab another cocktail and keep the nothing but classy Rehab anniversary party alive (further assuring your spot in a different kind of rehab in the future. Maybe even the next day).

New gay Argentinian

This is our party, we can do what we want.

As you’re having too much fun, you’ll lose track of time and suddenly look around at an empty pool and spy two police men, giving you the evil eye to get the F out of the area.

Oops

Two of LV’s nicest and finest giving our crew the boot – after we snapped a pic, of course.

And that my friends is how you survive an R. Kelly hosted Rehab party at the Hard Rock.

Any questions?

CBXB

CBXB!

How to Get a Vegas Food Coma

My liver is doing much better after my Vegas trip, thank you very much. But my body is still experiencing a sugar, carbohydrate, grease and any kind of food additive you can think of detox.

After endless liquids entered my bod (and no, that’s not water) during my four day Vegas stay, it was only natural to crave the unhealthiest of foods, right?

Helping hand

Vodka at the pool = need for junk food.

So what’s a gal to do but stuff her face after sipping (guzzling, rather) cocktails by the pool all day on an empty stomach?

You must stuff your face, of course.

Nothing's sexier than a wide mouthed woman in sequins.

Nothing’s sexier than a sequined wearing, wide mouthed woman with a cheeseburger hanging out of her mouth. Am I right?!

Want some?

No. No! I WON’T SHARE WITH YOU!

And what washes down a burger better than paella? Well, nothing.

Aria

First time trying paella at the Julian Serrano restaurant in the Aria casino. Heaven.

After all of that booze and stomach stuffing, there’s nothing more fun than trying to squeeze into a Vegas evening outfit.

Squeeze...

I wish I may I wish I might squeeze it in and suck it tight.

Once the evening in your confined attire is complete, follow with a little midnight snack.

Supper of champions

Snack attack!

Because two people really need 14 pancakes, 14 slices of bacon, whipped cream, a tower of onions rings and buffalo wings (for dessert).

Bound and determined

I can’t wait to put my bathing suit on tomorrow.

I'll try this...

Why does food taste better at 1am?

Devoured

I only ate half since I’m obviously watching my figure.

Because after all that, nothing is more fun the next day than feeling like a beached whale while laying here…

MGM

Starting all over again.

Anybody have any good cleanses I could start?

Of course, I can’t begin until after this weekend’s tailgate…

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!