And had everything gone smashingly and people would have spent less time running interference for my vagina, there would be some pretty badass pictures and videos to share with you.
But alas, the only one smart enough to make videos of herself drunk, in the bathroom of the club was my cousin Sam, whose ramblings about a "date rape douchebag" who she was sure was feeding us GHB were hilarious.
We arrived in LA late Friday evening and had an hour for four women to get ready. Our room looked like Hiroshima after that and never truly recovered. I brought along a dress I had ordered and long since it arrived, I decided I would not be wearing it, as my vagine was longer. But a funny thing happened on the way, and after I tried on all the options, the crotch baring dress was selected for me by my trusted comrades. At that very moment, I thought we were all just going to agree that we would not try and fight the valiant fight to keep my dress down, since it moved up to belly-button level each time I moved. I just put on some spanx and pretty panties and was ready to "rock out with my cock (ahem, vagine) out.
For the rest of the night, everyone who walked past me pulled my dress down...even total strangers. I still find it funny but slightly disappointing that no one wants to see my crotch anymore. I was apparently hell-bent on it happening, so I am told (I really was GHB'd, bc I have no memory of the end of the night), and I somehow managed to drop my non-26-34-36 inch frame like its hot AND PICK IT BACK UP, multiple times while making out with a tree. This was in between singing for a "music producer" and then sealing the deal with a good ole booby flash, all whilst trying to find Ryan Phillipe and Channing Tatum, who were there.
My grand finale for Friday was when I couldn't get my spanx back on after using the restroom, and so I carried them out, sat on the bench at the entrance to the bar, and tried to resume putting them back on IN PUBLIC.
I swear I only had like 3 drinks that night, but when I woke up Saturday, with one eye rolling lazily open, and down...I realized I was wearing a red dress and pj pants, which was not the dress I had been wearing the night before. I silently crossed myself, turned over, and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized I was in bed alone. Sam woke up to a text from a dude named "Sef" who it took multiple attempts for me to grasp she was saying "SEF" and not the urban slang pronunciation of "Seth". It was actually SEF.
Maybe the best part of Friday night was how I fell about 200 times.
Look, I'm not small. I'm not all rolly-fat, but baby got back, and side and thighs that could strangle a man. So if I wear heels when I'm drinking, at some point or multiple points in the night, this ass will end up on the floor. Or so, as it happens, laying out the table, a la Chris Farley style, in a van down by the river.
With my vagina out.
I will tell you about the rest of the weekend later this week. And at the end of the telling, I will include a photo collage and maybe SAMs "date rape douchbag" video. Look forward to it like fireworks to end the evening at Dianey World.