Busted like almost naked in a pool in LA. As you do.

Starting to recap the trip and share some moments with you. Let’s start in LA shall we?

The hotel we stayed in was a sparkly place. Fancy like. And unbeknown to us, gangsta!

Now I know you all think I’m a conservative and modest girl – yes, I frown on a tramp stamp but when in Rome or LA…..

Even their sign was bling I tell you.


Thereafter it was literally like party central at that bar. But we were not invited. It was that VIP media wall stuff with security guards and the like.

However we do not need that nonsense to have a party of our own. Or crash one as the case may be.

Stinking hot Fresh off the bus from Disneyland (hellhole of unimaginable proportions) we headed skyward to see the pool that we were sternly told, by the concierge, was closing in ten minutes. There was not a soul around nor a bathing suit between us. Dropped those pants and t like they were on fire and jumped in. Glorious!

No deed goes unpunished. 3 seconds
literally after me and my gstring left the water, this enormous unit with gold chains and three girls appeared before me. He wanted to know about the water temperature. I said warm really warm, to which he responded that means it’s fucking cold. Unfriendly much? He didn’t seem pleased to see us there. Stalked over to two areas marked reserved. (It then dawned on me why the pool was closing…..)

His girls wanted to know where the hot tub was. It was time to get out of there with my innocent flowers for more reasons than one clearly as they started to light up things that were not tobacco cigarettes.

Again, nothing goes unpunished. The plan was, wrapped in pool towels to go directly to our room a few floors below. Unfortunately the key card had a plan of its own. Refusing to work we were transported (me wailing) to the lobby. Some nice people then entered the lift and buzzed us to our floor. However obviously the key card didn’t work, duh, no access….

The Artist was dispatched (it sometimes sucks being the only male in a family) back to the lobby to get us sorted. Escorted back up by security they too saw us draped naked in pool towels hoping to restore our dignity get back into our room. Oh! The shame!

It gets worse. The Big Unit at the pool was someone famous because I saw his face on the tv in Times Square when they were doing some promo for the BET Awards that night in LA. Turns out (after much Internet stalking ) he’s one Rick Ross – big time rapper. Like whatever. 45K+likes per photo on Insta. Bite me dude.

Now I’m not sure whether he was shitty because we were at his private pool party or because I didn’t know who he was.

After the fact sitting at LAX I discovered we were not totally without “cool” salvation. The Artist got chatting to God knows who in the lift and got us invited to the awards party the following night. Sadly we had to decline as New York was calling. Double bugger!

Love and light
Lauren xxx

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