Innapropriate Dress

As my beloved spouse and I get ready to travel to Vegas, I am jumping with delight at packing the innapropriate dress. Oh how I love you cleavage spelunking,butt grabbing , non The Vicki acceptable garment. Oh how being caught with you in my 'hood would scar me for a least a week, emotionally.
To that point, there is a woman in aforementioned 'hood that told my bestie that it was wrong for married women to wear aformention cleave -exposing garments, so as not to tempt  other women's husbands. It is usually unwise to tell my gaggle of beotches NOT to do something. We know run around that flat-chested harpy with our tatas looking like a baby's bottom. We have become quite the experts in counting the times 40 year old men give in to tit-glancing. It's the little things in life like that that bringing us such joy. Besides, of course finding out who is frightened of me here. I like to keep the intimidation levels at a certain per capita. Keeps my schedule free. Honestly, try it. If you look like you might drown your kids to steal their Adderall, everytime you are at the schools, you WILL NOT be asked to participate at the bake sale.

So here we are, about to not be scene by anyone I know. The facebook cutoff will be quite early, then straight to girl greek chorus texting. I am letting the baby feeders loose people. My Ocean's Eleven fantasies are about to come true. But let's face it, Julia Roberts walks like a newborn fawn in  that movie. Perhaps I will bless all ya'll with packing a Cindy McCain suit and let the Harve film me descending that staircase like the lower paid unhorsey diva that I am.
I am all in.