Every great story has a beginning people, and this could be ours.
Picture the Hilton.
Emerging from various modes of transportation throngs of ladies approach the entrance “Almost Famous” style with Led Zepplin’s Misty Mountain Hop blaring for full effect. You also have the option of a helicopter drop a la’ Woodstock, but I was too young to witness that firsthand so I’m not sure how it works.
There is a lot of fist punching, high fiving and hugging as people find out for the first time that the mommy blogger they’ve been following for three years is a seventy year old parole violator with a working knowledge of explosives and mean martini making skills.
Drinks are consumed and laughs are had as all regularly scheduled programming goes down the shitter.
Vapid brings an entire travel bar we can use after last call. We end the evening wearing ponytails, glitter and find polaroids the next day depicting us being carried by what appears to be an ice giant.
The Bloggess sets up shop with her new intern and legions of followers NEAR the bathroom because the confines and stench of the actual facilities are too much to bear. She sends us forth to the buffet to procure food and drink for her new area and we all bask in the glory of having had a Bloggess sighting while being asked to actually DO something of value for her.
We get halfway there and forget our mission.
Elly’s organized chicken faceoff is about to take place in the pool so in we go, drinks and all. Elly and I are able to pull off a victory due to a last minute hat trick involving a distraction by Destructicorn.
Ry and Amanda go down. And by that I mean FALL DOWN ya perv. They have their revenge in the form of a dance-off where Elly and I learn that there are just some moves that only people from Connecticult can master. We are left defeated and spent on the multi-colored light up floor.
I enlist the help of my newly found gem Hellachella to fashion me three muppets in the likeness of Sting, Stewart and Andy so I can go up to my room and reinact my own warped version of the Police reunion tour. Anyone who has seen her zombie sock monkey knows that this will be a raging success.
We end like a house on fire with destroyed rooms, sullied reputations and terrible hangovers.
Weeping, we sing one last version of The Eagles “Desperado” (why , we are not sure) and part ways- until next year.
Vapid’s Corvette screetches around the corner into the sunset.
What happens at BlogHer STAYS at BlogHer
There were like 400 more people I was supposed to fit into this case scenario but I got lazy and tired and my mind stopped working.