Galleria di Stella Andrews

Tom Jones just had a whole theater at the Wynn forgetting how to behave, and I was the worst of them. Walking myself back now and behaving is officially off the table. Come misbehave with me?

Boy Harsher at House of Blues tonight and I'm committing to the full dark-glam look, even if the eyeliner is fighting me. All black everything from here on out. Rate the look so far, baby?

Taking Back Sunday just emptied out onto the street and my ears are still ringing — the heels lost the fight before I even made it to the curb. Come walk me home, baby?

The sign says this pool closes at ten — clearly nobody told me. My top lost the argument the second I got in, and I'm in no rush to find it. Come keep the water warm for me, baby?

Being a responsible adult before Earth, Wind & Fire tonight apparently means laundry first. This is officially the last useful thing I'll do all day — the Venetian has my name on it after dark. Come distract me, baby?

Keith Urban at the Fontainebleau or Taemin at T-Mobile — I've been stuck on this exact decision for an hour and my couch is losing the argument. Country boy or K-pop king, baby — pick for me?

The Sphere crowd can fight over their tickets — I've got Manilow and a coffee and zero shame. Be honest, baby, would you trade seats with me?

Should be asleep but my hands had other plans. Stay up with me a little longer, baby?

The bass at Zouk has me by the throat — Alison Wonderland is running this room and I've sweated clean through this dress. Where are you standing, baby?

Snuck off from Empire of the Sun to the bathroom and I'm wearing more glitter than the whole stage right now. This strap keeps losing the fight though. Come fix it for me, baby?