Here. Have a picture of pretty girls:
Yes, one of those pretty girls has a beard. We try not to talk about that.
There's a fabulous gallery up at Northern Spanking entitled "Adventures in Vegas", obscurely enough, where there's quite a lot of the goings-on captured. (Although it must be said that one of the batches I sent to Lucy was entitled "FYEO - not for public consumption", due to the sheer disaster-scale of the drunken last-night we managed...)
As most of you will know, I was already in the States prior to Shadowlane. The party was quite a last-minute decision in the grand scheme of things - I was shooting in Hawaii again at the end of February, and planned to do a little bit in LA before I left the country, to extend my time there and hopefully decrease the jet-lag. (ho ho!) Then I found out about Shadowlane: Brit Invasion, and realised it was just a couple of days after I'd planned to leave, and as I'd not booked my return flight yet, it seemed a bit churlish to pass up such an opportunity, given the practical spitting distance from LA.
While I stayed in LA, I got the chance to shoot with the legendary Chelsea Pfeiffer, and we had a blast playing crazy shopping girls, and a pretend biography dictation, and also one of the famous "Chelsea Spanks" sessions - 30 minutes of bum-beating!
Phew! I was quite relieved on the plane over to LAX that I had two seats to myself to crash out on!
I arrived in the small hours to the hotel and snuck into the room that I was under the impression contained Leia-Ann Woods and proceeded to try and remove make-up, clean teeth, get into bed without disturbing the sleeping figure in the other bed, who had mumbled a very sleepy "Heyyy..." when I got in, then gone back to sleep.
Imagine, therefore, my surprise the next morning when Lucy and Paul knocked on the door (at some bloody ridiculous hour. You'd think my own sodding sister would know the Never Disturb Amy Earlier Than Strictly Necessary rule, really...!) and "Leia" jumped up to answer it sporting a pair of jebs that could knock someone out.
Yup, it was Jadie. So that was a fabulous surprise, if a bit confusing for a few moments.
Needless to say, having a "roomie" for a change was quite exciting. If by "exciting", you mean "debauched."
You will note the prominent feature of the Margarita in the above picture. Yes, there are inanimate objects in it, look down a bit.
From the first night, we pretty much set up our refreshment tent in the hallowed halls of St. TGI's, school for errant boys and girls. Because we obviously don't have any of those in the UK, eh? *headdesk*
I discovered part of the reason we were drawn to the heady scent of tequila and over-happy staff:
Yup, clearly a spanko establishment.
Aaaanyway. Friday night was the vendors' fayre, and caught me in a quite horrendous mood, having been to the gym in the morning with no breakfast, then coming back to my room and managing to get distracted with hair/shower things and not eat at all. (know this: rule number one is that Amy Must Eat or Bad Things Happen. It's like Gremlins, but backwards. Snilmerg, if you will.)
Jadie returned from her fabulous helicopter trip high as a kite, and found me curling my hair and chattering to myself with a shaking arm, and threw me the room service menu. Clever girl. OK, so I only ordered a fruit plate even then, but it was American Portions, and so contained half a greengrocers. Sweet...
Lucy then popped by to ask if I'd do her hair, and we all went along to her room to doctor the green Wheatley Manor tee-shirts as best we could. I nipped back to my room to grab something, and couldn't get in.
Thinking I'd picked up our spare key, I went back and got Jadie's to use instead. And again, it didn't work.
Hmmm... After some awf'ly patronising assistance from a passing gentleman (Now really. I know I'm a woman, and I'm blonde, and that my brain is mostly there to distinguish between colours of nail polish, but I do spend quite a bit of time in hotels across the world, so the whole "Insert key card and withdraw slowly" thing isn't the most overwhelming technology I've encountered. Sorry.) I stomped down to reception barefoot, and got them to sort the keys out. Except they wanted ID.
I eventually got the point across that all my worldly belongings were currently locked in the room, and was given two new keys and a bollocking from the security guard for not wearing shoes. Again with the "locked in room" thing, love.
Back up in the jaw-droppingly slow lifts to the room, during which I created some Amber and watched the Grand Canyon being formed at live-speed, I was not even actually that surprised to find neither key working. After calling the front desk from Lucy's room (I'd have probably grown 2 foot of hair in the time the lifts would have taken) I waited several
Apt for a spanking convention, yes, but not very conducive to manning the Northern Spanking stall and launching Wheatley Manor.
When we eventually got up there - sans keys, by the way. They replaced the lock in the end, and we had to go and collect the keys after the fayre - we were both gasping for a drink, and I was ready to kill. Thankfully there was a nicely flowing bar there. And food. Which wasn't fruit.
We'd tried to watch all of the 2 hours and 51 minutes of Wheatley the previous night, so those of us who hadn't seen it would be able to discuss intelligently the finer points of the plot. Sadly it was so late we only got through the first half - which was brilliant to see still, especially for myself and Leia-Ann, who are in it, but didn't really know how it was going to turn out, as we filmed several bits out of context, like a mainstream film.
We had the film playing on a laptop at the stall, and by the second disk, there was a veritable audience standing a small distance away, watching a rather sexy scene - and several fayre-goers completely oblivious to their blockage of the tiny screen as they perused our DVD selection!
(I did managed to watch the rest after the party, and was struck by it. I'll be making a post before its release on Northern Spanking as I don't think I can really fit it in here. It does have one of the hottest scenes I've ever seen, and also some pretty fiery girly action, so WHOO!)
Another night in TGI's ensued, with myself and Lucy on particularly naughty form, especially in toilets. Toilets of the Ninja variety. Don't ask.
The next day, after our highly random suite party, (which started off so promisingly as a serious British School Punishment scenario and suddenly descended into Carry On Northern humour courtesy of Mr Stephen Lewis. Thanks Ste. I kept managing to get myself extra punishment from big sis for some reason as well. Typical!) myself and Andi went to shoot with another total legend - Clare Fonda and were joined by the gorgeous Sarah Gregory to create Mothers and Daughters 09. Much hilarity involving a security guard coming up to tell us that the downstairs neighbours had complained that "People were jumping up and down a lot up there", and Andi breaking her hairbrush on poor Sarah's behind (which bloody well didn't get me out of it either - Clare very kindly pointed out that her Mason Pearson was in the bathroom, so we could just switch to that for my spanking!)
The evening was the party, and we got dressed up to the nines, and had some more tasty food. I was, possibly for the first time ever - defeated by the chocolate cake, whose slices were about the same size as my car. Quelle (tasty) horreur!
Here's myself and the beautiful Andi. Please note my shoes, which were borrowed for the evening as a benefit of having a sister with a similar shoe-size and a fetish for ridiculously fine shoes. They're Swarovski-encrusted Gina shoes, ladies. (I won't even bother directing that at you boys, I know you switched off at the "sh" of "shoes"...) I love my sister. :)
Bleedin' hell, the words are starting to swim! Tea break!
*insert appropriate "Amy-quaffing peppermint tea" SFX*
Ah-HA! Back in the room!
Actually. What the hell happened after the party? Oh, yes. We went back to what we named the Lilliput Bar for a few nightcaps. Why the Gullivan reference? Just look:
I rest my case.
The next day myself and the other thrill-seeking nut-job among us, Niki Flynn headed to Stratosphere, and had us an early-afternoon, highly hungover, couple of hours of being flung in the air 1,000 foot above the ground. G-force-tastic! We had a real blast, and spent the first ride we went on, the aptly-named Insanity, informing the Strip way below us that we make hardcore CP films in Eastern Europe - and we're proud of it!!
In the evening Lucy, Leia and I headed to Zumanity, one of the 4squillion Cirque du Soleil shows, and had a fabulous time admiring the various, er, highlights of the show. (I think it's probably not good that I got quite excited about a piece of hydraulic bridging, but I did then completely forget about it in the face, or rather, pecs of sheer muscle action going on. Holy. Moly.)
We then hit Coyote Ugly for a while, and actually did dance around handbags, until a drunk guy fell on them. Then the evening pretty much went thus:
Leave Coyote Ugly, take up residence in bar outside.
Drink a lot more.
A certain blonde member of the Brit Invasion simulates a sex act with a large pink simian costume (empty).
Brit Invasion leave shortly after...
...and depart to Downtown, to drink more and supposedly gamble.
Drinking occurs. Some attempt at gambling occurs.
Amy is chatted up by a 40 year old woman and orders another stiff drink.
Cab back to hotel, in which Amy leaves iPhone.
Amy discovers loss, and is thankfully so drunk that it just doesn't matter.
All day breakfast at 3am, with very lovely people (Mija, to name a particular star) assisting in the attempt to track down phone & cab.
I'd had the foresight to get specific insurance before I left, so I was fairly sure I'd be ok on that level. What didn't help was that I then had no time-telling equipment to assist me in getting my flight the next/same morning at 9am, andthe clocks went forwards, and Andi and Leia had borrowed my travel adapter, which meant my laptop was out of battery and unable to switch on and enable me to gleen my exact flight details or check my insurance documents and ascertain what I needed to do.
So, not the least-fraught journey home I've ever had. Obviously I made it, and immediately got onto sorting out claims etc, but I'm hoping the next time I'm over that way it'll be a teeny bit less stressful. Not too much though, or I may risk being complacent. Or just bored.
A couple of days after we got back, we had the Cheeky Girls party, which was pretty tough with jet-lag and a newly pulled selection of muscles in my left leg. Having a pulled glute spanked repeatedly is a tad nippy, and I'm not intending to do it again.
The theme, as is always the case in March, was St Paddy's Day, and so my Vegas Party Dress made another appearance, (hey, I'm getting my money's worth out of that bad boy!) albeit sadly not with splendid splendid shoes.
There's myself with the splendid Donna, who's recently (and finally!!) made her debut on Northern Spanking. What a great lass!
Wowsers. I believe it's bedtime now!