The Matrimony Chronicles. Vol. 1 - Viva Las Vegas

We've got Girls. Like, the best Girls. They rock, and I mean really rock. They have signature dance moves and dorky nicknames. We share their lipstick, shoes, and secrets. Once a year, the Girls rally. I mean we really rally. All the way to the City of Sin. You know the place. Las Vegas. We dance, and drink, heck, I've even seen a cigar being held between perfectly polished nails. It's a no holds barred, lazy river floating, dance like your 21, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas kind of weekend.  Oh, I should have said this earlier. So, I'll say it now. NO BOYS ALLOWED. Period. End of report. None. The husbands stay home with the kids, the boyfriends find better things to do, and the Girls, well the Girls go to Vegas. Except for this year...

This being our round three year in Las Vegas we have the city pretty well mapped out. The clubs we like, and the ones we don't. Where to eat cheap, and drink for free. We have Vegas down. We  know to get up early and throw towels on the prime real estate at the pool. We remember to apply some SPF 35 beneath the Maui Babe so our Seattle skin doesn't sizzle. Like I said, we have Vegas down.

So this fabulous Vegas morning starts off at the pool. We have prime real estate, and then Nic points. We all think she is dancing, as there are some fabulous  Vegas Beats playing, and maybe this pointing thing she is doing is part of her new move. Then we realize what she is pointing at. Imagine a speedo. (gross, I know) Imagine a fedora. Ok, now imagine a hairy man, in a speedo, wearing a fedora. Got it? Thrown up yet? If not, get a bucket, bowl, something, because Honey, "if your going to spew, spew into this". Ok, sorry back to my story. Hairy dude, speedo, hat. Got it. Ok, now imagine a tramp stamp. Ya know, the token lower back tattoo that every girl in her 20's has and every woman in her 30's tries to cover up. Tramp Stamp. Yes, I know it's crude. Back to the dude, now imagine he has one. A Tramp Stamp. It's not just any tattoo though, it is a tattoo of an exit sign. Tattooed above his rear end. His hairy, speedo wearing rear end. Did I mention how much I love Las Vegas?

Lovelies, tonight I leave you with the Tramp Stamp. To be continued...