Would Someone Please Remove Marilyn Monroe From Atop the Bar!!!

I went to a fun Halloween party last night. I had 2 kamikazes. I however did not feel the need to heft my drunk ass onto the bar and do a "pole dance" sans pole... So after pounding back a few, "Marilyn" stumbles up onto the bar when "Pour Some Sugar on Me" begins playing. As if that wasn't bad enough, she stayed up there the entire song--and it's a really long song. Nothing against this version of Marilyn Monroe but she was at least a 36 GG (if anything that is an under-exaggeration) and she was severely exceeding the weight limit on the top part of her white halter dress. It was a low ceiling and Chris and I were praying she would knock herself out, on it and put everyone out of their misery. You know it's bad when you do a sexy dance and people are trying to talk you down like you're a suicidal person on a bridge. "It's OK. Come on down. We are here to help. Don't look down! You're going to be fine, but for the love of God, come down before you hurt yourself!" Last I saw her, she was puking and crying behind the barn that the party was held in. Oooh a fun drunk! So let me share with you some other highlights from last nights festivities. Chris and I took half a role of film on the party host's dog. Her little black Pitt bull was dressed as a honey bee! There was this big rectangular block of ice (about 2 feet by 4 feet) that someone took a blow torch to, and cut a zig zag line into it. It was tilted at a 45 degree, then someone would go to the top and poor jagermeister down it, to the person waiting with their mouth open at the bottom of it. Kind of like a really elaborate, hard liquor "beer bong." Chris' (police) partner "V", repeatedly picked up various people and swung them around on his shoulders (he's a big guy 6'4"-220). The more intoxicated he got, the more precarious the swinging became. I kept saying, this will only end in tears. Then he got slap-happy, swatting fellow revilers on the bum and man-handling my husbands pectoral region. V then got sloppy drunk and smacked an innocent male bystander in the "that which shall not be named" region, an event which did in fact end in tears. Not long after this, the host started shuting off lights and closing doors, the universal symbol for "the party is over now get the @#$% out of here" at about 4 am. Guess where the party relocated to? Yup, Chris and my hotel room. Finally at about 5:30 AM we convinced all, to move down the hall to someone else's room, (in a hotel room, shutting out the lights as a hint--is just blatantly rude). But not before one of the female party goers proceeded to lock herself in our bathroom, crying and refusing to come out. Joy! My highlight of the evening was that the hotel room had a whirlpool tub and I had a wonderfully relaxing bubble bath. Aaaaahhhhh!!! Calgon took me away.