Lately, things have gotten a little... routine. The blackjack. The spontaneous fireworks displays. The 3am drag races down the Strip...

Allow us to recommend something different. Something crazier: getting the hell out of town.

Introducing Flying Private, a nine-hour odyssey to the coast and back in your new best friend’s private jet, taking off August 7.

Here’s what you do: find your way to the small private hangar at McCarran Airport outside Vegas. (Just follow the stream of wine bottles and garter belts.) There, you’ll pile onto the private plane, where the party will really start, with champagne-fueled festivities spilling out into the aisle, impromptu storytelling over the PA and an in-house photographer making his way up and down the cabin to document every last moment of revelry. You may need to de-tag yourself afterwards...

An hour later, you’ll land in Burbank, where a fleet of limos will escort you to the night’s club of choice (last month was Drai’s Hollywood, this month it’s Avalon Hollywood). There, you can share a raised glass and a few hours of dancing with the friends you made on the flight over—and after last call, bring them back to the plane and roll back into town together a little after 4am.

Luckily, your bedtime’s not until 5.