West Coast Wives

When the Hubby had a work event involving bottle service with 50 cent at Parq nightclub my inner groupie jumped at the opportunity. Sitter? Check, Freak em Dress? Check. Lack of sense and decorum? Check and check. Here's the catch, this was taking place on a Sunday, and Fifty wasn't showing up till 12:30 am, GASP! So my weekend consisted of resting up (lord knows anything past 10 pm on a Sunday and I turn in to a pumpkin), burning some calories (this last week I will neither confirm nor deny eating all of my toddler's teddy grahams), and starving myself so I could squeeze back into a white number I wore for the Hubby's bday seen here.

If Magic Stick drops, so will my panties

It's been a while since I hit the club so I didn't get the memo that you don't have to be a gogo dancer to show up in your underwear. Who knew If I wanted to wear my bra and hanky panky's no one would have looked at me sideways? In my attempts to skank it up I ended up feeling the most demure (and feeling really old). The club was sold out and insanely packed. At one point I yelled "It's Sunday! Don't any of these people have jobs?!" to which someone responded "Most of these people are in college." Alas, again I have aged myself, so to numb this reality, Effen Black Cherry Vodka to the rescue (Fifty Cent is a sponsor of the vodka and was promoting it on this night).

The blonde beside him is not his ex Chelsea Handler but I kept my eyes peeled just in case they rekindled.

Alcohol doesn't only give me liquid courage, it also gives me groupie goggles. On our way to go welcome Fifty to his table I got a bit confused when a gentlemen I thought was the rapper himself pulled me to his table. I stood there feeling like I was some kinda hoodrat special until I realized that it wasn't Fifty at all! The flashing lights and the Effen Vodka had me all discombobulated. After a couple of eye rolls from the hubby we finally made our way to the real deal VIP table, (which by the way is on the stage and not down below with all the clubbing minions). The desperate housewife in me couldn't help but flirtatiously touch Fifty's shoulder confessing "I am a HUGE fan of your work. Wanna take a selfie?" Yeah, keeping it cool wasn't on the docket tonight, but with stars in my eyes I'd do anything for a selfie with a rapper, famed for his works from 10 years ago. That's all for now, but before i sign off here's a drunkie selfie parade from the evening.