Saturday, 3pm. I'm strolling down Melrose in West Hollywood, shopping. The Boyfriend calls and says, "Can you be ready in two hours? We're going to Vegas." I ran to the tanning salon, stripped down naked for a pretty 18-year-old girl, and got airbrushed to a shade of orange only acceptable in Sin City. Then it was off to the airport, my new Juicy swimsuit in tow, and my new camera in hand. Here are some of the pictures I managed to take in between sips of something called a "Ginger Sparkle" and endless whiffs of carcinogenic smoke. Enjoy, loves!