An Open Letter to Sin City

Dear Las Vegas,

You are cray cray.

Do I dare tell the tales of last weekend’s dual bachelor/bachelorette party? Sin City, I’m not sure my blog can handle your stories. Like, seriously, the amount of epic may crash my site.

But if I were to share your secrets, I would tell my readers this…

… Britney ((bitch)) is still the queen. Followed in a close second by the beautiful ladies pictured above. LBD FTW.

 

… Go easy on the delicious pear sangria at the Monte Carlo pool. Trust me.

… If you’re ever in Vegas do not, I repeat, DO NOT ride in an SUV driven by a short man named Troy. He will drive you through the worst part of town, show you where COPS is filmed, and then drop you off with “Mikey!” at the world’s most ghetto strip club. Troy nearly ruined a few marriages, people. We’ll leave it at that.

 

… Definitely go to the top of the Stratosphere and ride The Big Shot at night, but don’t be me. Remember to pee BEFORE you shoot yourself straight up from the top of a 112-story building.

… Same goes for The Rollercoaster at NYNY. Pro Tip: Put on your big girl panties and sit near the front. Not jerky at all.

… Thunder from Down Under = worth every freaking penny. Front row, middle table. Our bachelorette was pulled on stage, which was the highlight of the night. She’ll recount every last detail, if you ask.

 

… When the Bachelorette wants her tiara, she wants her damn tiara.

… Sometimes its better to have a few girls take the Bachelor out. Things like the above happen. Thank you, Coyote Ugly.

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Oh, I think I said too much. Oops.

Thanks for the hospitality, Vegas. I’ll send you an invoice for the $40 I left in your penny slots.

xoxo,
Samantha