My Vegas Bachelorette Party Was PURE INSANITY.

And I've got the pictures to prove it, kids.

I had the BEST time eveeeeer. Truly. Seriously. Couldn't have asked for a more kickass kind of BEST TIME EVER.  Everyone partied their balls off for practically 48 hours straight.  It was truly a magnificent weekend, filled with boozing, blackjacking, humping random objects (and each other), wearing costumes, getting stares, and going ballsout/titsout crazy.  So let the re-caps begin!

First night, I was dressed in a pair of coyote-nasty white boots, metallic gold leggings and a neon green leotard OVER the leggings (complete with bachelorette sash):

Impromptu hallway fashion shoot.

My arm says, "Bowie Bride," my earrings say, "SEXY," and my ass spells PURE GOLD.

I opened this beer with my fucking boot heel. NO SHIT.

My other girls wore this matching get-up:

Titfield's boobs say, "Titty, Titty" and Lolly's ass says, "Bang Bang."  They were a team of epic coyote-nasty proportions.

I cannot not tell you how many shocked looks we got. But I just looked everyone dead in the eye, nodded with absurd confidence and said, "Yep. Check. This. OUT."  It was amazing. I was on fucking FIRE. And no one was gonna put me out.

I got up on stage at the piano bar on Saturday night and sang 2 songs: Bohemian Rhapsody and Don't Stop Believing (naturally):

NOTE: this was NOT a karaoke bar. I somehow convinced them to let me perform. I do not remember how that actually went down...

I practically molested the piano player:

He was super talented, and the ladies tell me that I just couldn't get enough of him... (LMFAO. That's so the nerd in me to choose a piano player over a stripper for my bachelorette party. Go ME!)

The piano player actually followed us out of the bar when we left. He was trying to get my sister's number!

An older gentlemen bought Titfield and I Patron shots:

This man wanted our snatch'iz. Us? Not so much. But the booze was much appreciated.

We left a penis shot glass in the piano player's 'tip' jar:

Just the tip.

Mike wore this helmet the entire weekend:

Mike was Born to Skate (and to drink like a tank).

He even wore it to the pool...

...and to dinner.

  I did the splits in the middle of the bar:

P.S.: I haven't done the splits in YEARS. Can you see the pain in my face?

...and slammed my knee so hard against the ground after doing the splits that I got a bruise that looked like this:

ouch.

 I got ICED at the Forum Shops in Caesar's Palace and had to chug a Smirnoff in front of Bernini:

I counter-ICED Dave, but I didn't make him drink both. We were in Vegas. I WANTED to get drunk. NOTE: Dave is not wearing any shoes.

We somehow managed to frighten the weirdos of Freemont Street:

We were the show, and EVERYONE was buying a ticket.

Steve made us T-shirts with these logos on them:

Best Bowie quote ever: "I don't know where I'm going from here, but I promise it won't be boring."

Alexis wore a cop uniform, and Lolly was Lady Gaga:

Freemont Street slutz gettin real. She wrote the piano player a ticket for being too sexy. I gave it to him personally.

Titfield wore a men's tie that showcased a family of lions. She also wore a Hamburgler mask:

My sis and I were harajuku girls:

 And we were wildly inappropriate (at all times):

Nursing a bottle of Jack in the middle of a restaurant.

Requisite plastic penis shot.  In line to eat at the Brewery.

Outside Harrah's at 4 AM.

Oh, and I also managed to molest my groom:

And he was cool with it.

Wedding dance floor preview, y'all.

Can you believe that we all actually survived this thing?  

( 'cause I can't).