Clown Butlers, Topless Nuns & Free Hugs!

So then…I pull my kid out of school for a couple days and hop a flight to Vegas for a concert of her favorite band.

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Yep, I’m that kind of mom.

The kind that believes in the importance of school –

but also thinks kids deserve an occasional exciting adventure!

And lest you worry about her educational welfare — rest assured Chloe’s a straight A student who takes her academic career so seriously, she writes her AP World History notecards on the flight there!

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So we meet up with two of her friends and their moms in Vegas to see the R5 band perform.

Vegas Girls at Concert Incognito

Second row, center, baby! And of course I spring for the extra bucks for the Meet & Greet Photo Op.

Vegas R5 and Chloe Icognito

Yep, I’m that kind of mom.

But then again, it IS her 15th birthday. And she LOVES R5.

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In fact, she thinks this MIGHT be my future son-in-law:

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Then the next night, we take our daughters to zip-line high above the drunken revelers on rowdy Fremont Street – because –

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Yep, I’m that kind of mom.

While the teens wait in line for the ride, the moms and I position ourselves in the middle of the street so we can photograph our kids as they come zipping across.

We’re treated to an array of colorful characters as we amble down Fremont.

Like these dudes! Do they look like they know how to party – or what? I’d love to hang with these guys!

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We see a tap dancer who appears to have his own Butler Clown.

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Showgirls, of course.

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Even some Showguys.

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This fellow’s really flexible…

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The fellow in red — not so much…

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But he’s very friendly – look: FREE HUGS!

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Bar-top Go-Go Dancers shake what their mama gave ‘em over by the Alcoholic Slushie Machines…

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Which you can drink in your very own Fishnet Stocking Beverage Holder with Straw.

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What are the Bronze Cowboys staring at?

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Oh just a Concert Violinist in a Bikini, of course.

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Yikes! Things get a little risqué in the Chippendales booth!

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Gasp! I hope the NUNS didn’t see that!

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Oh – no worries, they won’t mind — they’re TOPLESS nuns!

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Checking in on the Tap Dancer – yep, his Butler Clown’s still on duty.

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“Make me some balloon animals, Jeeves!”

“Right away, sir.”

Meanwhile flying high above all this craziness…

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Our daughters come zip-lining across the night sky!

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We have an absolute blast!

So if you ever want to play hooky from work, just give me a call.

Pull on your favorite outfit,

Vegas Guy in Colorful Bikini Incognito

Grab a Leg o’ Beer,

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And let’s party it up on Fremont Street!

‘Cuz – yep, I’m that kind of friend!

— Darcy Perdu

For more funny and colorful posts, subscribe right HERE!

(Would you like to have your own Clown Butler? Have you seen some of these fine folks on Fremont Street? Who’s your favorite?)

Did you already meet the “friends” I made at the last concert I attended with Lady Gaga?

Justin Bieber Forbids Me to Do WHAT?

Justin Bieber Forbids Me to Do WHAT?  #funny #Bieber #concert #music #humor

So then…we head to the bar to slake our thirst. And thanks to the brutal Vegas heat, we’re truly in need of genuine hydration – so we buy 4 bottles of water in addition to our drink order.

It’s a bit rowdy at the arena bar – this is, after all, a Lady Gaga concert, so the concessions are packed with all my new “friends” – cool, crazy, costumed characters that they are.

My sister and I are in the line of customers, where there is much jostling – and if we’re here much longer, probably some fondling as well.

Finally my sister orders — and I see the bartender bring over 4 bottles of water, unscrew each cap, TOSS THE CAPS IN THE TRASH, and shove the uncapped bottles toward my sister.

What the hell?

My sister is not pleased. And now she and I are trying to pick up the uncapped sloshing water bottles and figure out how to carry them — along with all our other snacks and accessories.

“Can’t we have the caps?” I ask.

The bartender says, “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because of Justin Bieber,” the bartender says.

What!? Justin Bieber doesn’t want me to have caps on my water? This isn’t even a Justin Bieber concert! It’s a Lady Gaga concert!

I look around for Justin. Is he here? Is he watching me? Have I proven myself untrustworthy with bottle caps in the past?

I rack my brain. What’s he worried about? I’m not 3! I’m not gonna swallow it! Oh sure, I occasionally suck on a pen cap – or dangle a paper clip from my lip, but I’m not gonna accidentally ingest a bottle cap!

Maybe there’s a special promotion where you can win cash and prizes by looking at the underside of your bottle cap — and Justin wants to keep all those chances for himself!

Well, that’s just stingy, Justin. YOU have buckets o’ money – and I could really USE a new washer/dryer.

Clumsily, my sister and I make our way through the throngs of concert-goers, spilling water as we waddle through.

“Why doesn’t Justin want us to have bottle caps?” I ask, raising my voice above the din.

“The bartender says it’s because someone threw a bottle of water at Justin at a concert – so from now on, they have to remove all bottle caps!” says my sister.

“Are you KIDDING me?”

“Nope,” she says. “I guess they figure if someone throws an uncapped bottle, the water will spill out before it reaches him.”

Omigod, is Justin in THAT much danger of projectile bottles that we now have a RULE about it?

Then I recall something in the news awhile back — and sure enough, I find the headline from a Brazil concert: Justin Bieber Hit by Water Bottle Thrown by Fan and Storms Off Stage

(The article says the bottle is “thrown by a fan” — but I’d THINK a fan would be more likely to throw some roses or panties onstage. What’s the thought process there? “I really dig this singer – let me pelt him with this pint of liquid!” or maybe “I REALLY love this singer – someone hand me a fire hose!”)

But Justin’s not even here. This is a LADY GAGA concert!

If someone lobbed a bottle at Gaga…

She’d just bat it away with her microphone!

> at Madison Square Garden on October 27, 2008 in New York City.

Or bounce it off her shell bra!

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Or just swallow it whole!

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But not Bieber.

One fan throws one bottle – and now, no one at concerts can have a bottle cap!

This is why we can’t have nice things, Justin.

It’s like that damn wannabe shoe bomber. One guy tries to sneak a bomb in his footwear – and now millions of passengers have to take their shoes off in airports around the globe every day. And have you SEEN what’s on the airport floor? I don’t know that guy’s name, but I curse him every time I have to take my shoes off (even when I’m not at TSA).

I almost feel bad for the Biebs. Here he is, trying to maintain a rep as a hip, edgy musical artist – and now this is what he’s known for? Kinda hurts the street cred, don’t ya think? “I love fast cars, fast women – I’m a straight-up gangsta — and oh yeah, by the way, please don’t fling a water bottle at my noggin.”

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It’s a bit embarrassing. Does he really want to be known as the Agent of Social Change for de-weaponizing liquid refreshments?

Back of the Bus? “No!” retorted Rosa Parks.
Mistreatment of migrant farm workers? “No!” shouted Cesar Chavez.
Bottle caps at concerts? “No!” cried Justin Bieber.

It’s also a bit unfair. Someone throws a bottle at Justin and bottle caps are banned. But when the Biebs lobs eggs at his neighbor’s house, are eggs banned? Noooo. Although that WOULD have been pretty hilarious! Can you imagine looking for eggs at your grocery store and the clerk says, “Sorry, no more eggs.” (looks around nervously, then whispers:) “Because of Justin Bieber.”

So I guess I won’t worry that the bottle-cap-brouhaha is damaging the reputation of the egg-throwing, car-speeding, mop-bucket-urinating Bieber –

And perhaps there are other performers who also prompted the bottle cap ban at arenas –

But as I struggle to ensure my bottle doesn’t capsize during the concert, soaking the patrons seated in front of me — I vow to smuggle bottle caps of various sizes into all future concerts.

Go ahead, Security — pat me down! No drugs, no booze, no firearms – just a few plastic bottle caps secretly stashed in my bodacious bra!

— Darcy Perdu

For 2 more funny true tales a week, pop your email address right HERE!

(Have you run into the Bottle Cap Ban? If YOU had the power to ban something, what would it be? Any odd rules you’ve encountered at work, school, or public places?)

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Yep, that’s me, Darcy Perdu, rockin’ the awesome shirt for RCOJ (Reluctant Cat Owner’s Journal), the hilarious blog written by Cary Vaughn. Thank you, Cary, for your gift – yes, I DO look fabulous – and yes, I AM super skinny. Thanks for noticing.

If you’re not reading RCOJ yet, you should definitely check it out. Although Cary hated the idea of having animals in his house, he loves his animal-loving partner, so he agreed to take in a stray cat. Now they have five – count ‘em, FIVE – cats who rule the roost.

When Cary’s not creating hilarious and wholly impractical inventions to deal with the cats (i.e. Butt-Scooting and Cat-Feeding), he’s entertaining theatre-goers with his rendition of Sir Lancelot in Monty Python’s Spamalot — or a football player in Debbie Does Dallas: The Musical. (Yeah, you heard me – Debbie Does Dallas: The Musical.)

At RCOJ, Cary shares lots of funny adventures – but he also has a wonderful way of writing about ordinary everyday things that just cracks me up. He once wrote a whole blog post about watching a musical when he suddenly lost his Iphone between the seats that had me in stitches. You can also find him over at LeftyPop with some funny and thought-provoking posts.

Also — he’s the best damn lookin’ blogger on the internet.

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And the goofiest.

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I swear I didn’t beat Cary up for my RCOJ shirt. He gave it to me willingly. I swear!

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Go check out The Reluctant Cat Owner’s Journal.  Let him be your guilty pleasure!

How to Make New “Friends” at a Lady Gaga Concert!

So then…I hop a flight to Vegas for the Lady Gaga ART POP Ball‘cuz that’s how I roll.

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Actually, that’s how my niece rolls! And since she wanted to celebrate turning 18 this weekend at a Vegas Gaga concert, her mom (my sister) invited my 14-year-old daughter and moi to join the fun. So we have a blast enjoying Vegas all weekend, including the girls zip-lining down wild Fremont Street at midnight on Friday.

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On Saturday, we splash it up at our hotel’s gorgeous pools at the MGM Grand where the concert’s being held tonight. After a lovely lunch at the poolside café, the server brings the bill.

Me:         Can I put this on the hotel room?
Server:    Sure. (grabs pen) What’s your hotel room number?
Me:         12-124
Server:    What’s your last name?
Me:         Gaga. First name — Lady.

Her head pops up, eyes wide.

Me:         Yeah, she’s a good friend. She told me I could charge anything I want to her room.
Server:    Whaaaa?

The rest of my table cracks up laughing, so the server realizes I’m kidding. But I was close – THIS close, I tell ya – if my sister, niece, and daughter hadn’t blown my cover — dem lil bitches. (But they do refer to me as “First name: Lady” for the rest of the trip, so I forgive them.)

That night, we zip downstairs to the arena to rock out to the Gaga concert with my friends.

And by “friends,” I mean awesome people who let me take their picture and who don’t actually know they are friends with me – yet.

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Because I desperately want to be friends with these people because they are amazingly enthusiastic and commited and cool and creative.

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I mean, look at these outfits!

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Yes, that’s a 6’4″ dude hanging out by the Roasted Nuts stand.

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I LOVE this kind of fervor.

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It doesn’t matter if you’re dressing up for a concert like this – or dressing up for a sporting event by painting your face with your team’s colors — you have my admiration for proudly displaying your allegiance. Go big or go home, baby!

The first act is a darling K-Pop group called CRAYON POP.

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They wear colorful school girl outfits — and helmets for some inexplicable reason – (Do they need to make a speedy motorcycle getaway? Do they have identical head injuries? Or just a Bad Hair Day for everyone?) Whatever the reason, they look adorable as they pull off some highly-complicated synchronized dance moves while singing infectious pop songs. We LOVE them!

However, the middle act is some DJ chick at a soundboard playing what sounds like heavy metal Electronic Dance Music. And while I’m sure she’s a lovely person who probably crochets afghans for orphans and reads to blind puppies (so don’t take this personally, lady), but I hate EDM. Sounds like one monotonous bass line punctuated by noises a drunk rhino would make in a hoarder’s tool shed.

So during her set, I excuse myself to the ladies room — and take the opportunity to snap pics of my new “friends” out by the concessions while my sister stays in the seats with our daughters.

While I’m hangin’ with the Little Monsters, I receive this text from my daughter — which makes me laugh out loud. She knows me so well –

You should come back soon — this is the last “song” before Gaga

Ha! Damn right EDM deserves quotation marks around the word “song!”

As I weave through the crowd back to my seat, I’m energized by all the camaraderie amongst the attendees – young and old, gay and straight, every race, every nationality – everyone’s there for one reason — to have a BALL! Gaga’s all about love and self-acceptance – and we love that!

This concert’s going to be a spectacular spectacle filled with outrageous costumes and rousing renditions of G.U.Y., Gypsy, Poker Face, Paparazzi, Alejandro, Bad Romance, and much more.

Just before she takes the stage, 3 Hispanic men file into the seats in front of us. They’re dressed in jeans, drinking from super-size beer cans, and look like burly construction workers.

I don’t mean stylized construction workers like the dude from Village People. Or burly like Bears. Or muscular 6-pack abs like manual-laborers-slash-underwear models. I mean like burly macho Hispanic men you’d see at a construction site.

I exchange a quizzical look with my sister. I wonder if these guys accidentally wandered into the wrong arena on their way to a monster truck rally or a boxing match — and they have no idea they’re about to see this:

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Or maybe they said to the hotel concierge, “Can you get us tickets to a Vegas show? Maybe magic or juggling or something?” And they sit down and see this:

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I’m interested to see their reaction when the show starts.

I picture them looking puzzled and whispering “Que pasa?” to each other.

Suddenly the lights dim — then a burst of BLAZING LIGHTS! The music explodes — and Gaga and her dancers gyrate on stage in a dazzling frenzy of excitement!

My burly Hispanic construction workers instantly begin dancing the exact same moves as Gaga’s dancers.


Take that, stereotyping!

They’re amazing! These 3 guys know every word of every song — and every move of every dance! I’ve never seen more impressive gyrating in such a small space before! They’re limiting their movements to the 24 inch area directly in front of their seats – but oh they are fierce!

As the concert progresses, they venture outside their area a bit, dancing and gesticulating passionately – they turn around to dance with us, high five us, hug us, and sing loudly along with us. We have a blast together!

And that’s one of the reasons I love concerts so much – especially a concert like Lady Gaga – you never know who you’re going to meet –

And regardless if they look like Club Kids (blue circle) – or Local Librarians (red circle) –

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They’re ALL here to PARTY — and revel in the music and spectacle that is:

Last Name: Gaga.  First Name: Lady.


— Darcy Perdu

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(Been to a fun concert lately? Which outfit above is your favorite?)

How to Make Friends at a Lady Gaga Concert -- funny story of my attempt to befriend Little Monsters!  #concert #costume #ladygaga #funny #humor #dance