One hell of a night!

Ever imagine what it would be like in hell? I bet you have, you devil, you. I liken hell to a bad night out at the club. You know the night. The one that never ends. Starts off with intentions on having one drink and heading home, but after a series of unfortunate events you end up out until 5am. Yeah, one of those nights.

Upon entering hell, every woman is charged $900 in exchange for a pair of Christian Louboutins (the red bottoms would be fitting in hell). Loubous are THE must have status symbol of today's relevant woman and they happen to be the most uncomfortable shoes I have ever owned. Only in hell would you gladly pay $1K to be that uncomfortable. Thanks Christian! The Hell welcome committee also tosses everyone a pair of Spanx on their way in. I remember when I donned my first pair of Spanx. I was in Miami (of all places). Things were looking up (especially my butt which was being held a good 5 inches higher in the air than usual by the new age girdle). Then I ate....a. lot. Now...not being accustomed to the restrictions of the Spanx...I may have overindulged a bit. I have always had a very healthy appetite, so this wasn't anything out of the ordinary. BUT, the Spanx and my belly conspired against me...in a revolt of epic proportions. I look back fondly on that day as what will go down in history as the worst day of my tummy's life. Since then, I have learned to control the control tops. But, in hell...every girl's Spanx would be 1 size too small and squeeze so tight that circulation would be cut off once you wiggle into the evil contraption known as Spanx. Hell only has knock off handags.  Good luck with that.  You also have the following fragrance options...CK One, Designer Imposters -Primo, or White Diamonds.  Any one is pretty classy.  So it's a win - win.  Oh, since this is hell...you also got your hair highlighted with Sun In earlier that day...you have now managed to pull the few strands you have left into a banana clip - which is the only hair accessory available in hell. Hell was advertised as free before 11, but you get there at 10:45 and are charged $25. You have no cash, there is not ATM. Welcome to hell. You head over to the bar only to realize hell is limited to 4 drink options which are Colt 45, Fuzzy Navel wine coolers, Zima, or Boone's Farm. Pick your poison. It takes about 30 minutes to get one drink since hell's wait staff is none other than the same jerks you can currently catch waiting tables daily at Cyclone Anaya's in Midtown. Quite possibly the rudest people to ever take your order. My friends and I had a brief love affair with that place a few summers ago. There was not a Saturday afternoon that didn't catch us on the patio of Cyclone's. And although we were clearly regulars...they always managed to make us feel like the 1st black family to move to Vidor. I strongly dislike them. Glad to see they made it to hell. Thx, Mgt. You get your drink and saunter over to VIP, but it is a futile effort. VIP is impossible to get into in hell, so you and your entourage has been banished to the dance floor. Did I mention hell only plays songs everyone secretly loves but would never admit to knowing...like LMFAO's I'm in Miami Trick, Flo Rida's Head Right Round, and Miley Cyrus' Butterfly Fly Away. The ratio of women to men in hell is 62:2 (if you are a woman, it is vice versa if you are a man). It seems as though the only members of the opposite sex in the room are your ex's and the other party in any one night stand you've ever chose to partake in. C’mon son, it's hell. After you have thrown up in the bathroom, fell asleep in the DJ booth, and lost your cell phone (which never had service anyway...hello...this is hell! no bars in no places), you finally convince your friends to leave. On your way out of Club Hell, you realize your car has either been stolen, hit, or towed. If you are a certain "best friend" of mine, a fourth option is your car is in one piece, but you run out of gas on the freeway. LOL. Either way, this is hell...so good luck getting home.