Drove across western Kansas. Wow, was it an awful drive, too. In a lot of ways, it was more depressing than rural North Dakota. I don't recommend it.
Drank a Brass Monkey. For years now, I've just really wanted to know what the Beastie Boys were talking about. I was hoping it was gonna be some amazingly awesome drink that rocked my adidas off, but really it was just some concoction with vodka, oj, and other stuff. I spent the rest of my night trying to order a Funky Cold Medina, but was unsuccessful, probably because the bartender was a Tone Loc-hating racist.
Rode a mechanical bull. With visions dancing in my head of a magical 8 second ride, hordes of girls screaming at me to take them home, and solemn nods of respect from the dudes wearing cowboy hats, I climbed aboard the bull. Less than 3 seconds later, I was picking myself up off the tarp, avoiding the disgusted stares of the aforementioned cowboys, and pretending not to hear Alex, Chelsey, and Sweeney laughing at me.
Line danced. So if it hasn't become apparent yet, we went to a bar in Colorado Springs that was extremely cowboy-themed. After a couple hours of people-watching, laughing, and drinking heavily, Mike and I were properly prepared to tackle the dance floor, which had a decidedly cultish tone to it. Just a mob of people who, within 3 seconds of the beginning of the song, knew exactly what line dance to do- and were already two steps into it. Most of them weren't even smiling (or featuring any kind of facial expression at all, really.) Like they were just robots programmed to walk to the left, then to the right, then maybe to the back, then maybe stomp or something, then repeat. Crazy phenomenon. So Mike and I went out there and made an honest attempt to conform with the line-dancing robots, but basically we just ran into people and pissed them off. Finally I gave up and just started pulling out MC Hammer moves. I don't know what happened to Mike, he may still be out there.
Watched two 17 year olds in tiny bikinis give each other a sensual massage in the most desperate ploy for attention I've ever seen. Sara, Smerud and I hit the hot tub almost immediately upon arriving at the ski resort, and for the first hour or so we had the whole thing to ourselves. After that, however, the slut patrol showed up, and started in with their little performance, making sure they glanced over at me every few seconds to see if I was paying close attention. I wasn't, but guess who was? The creepy-looking 75 year old man next to Sara, who was submerged in the water up to his eyeballs, which were glued on the two youngsters rubbing each other down. He looked like an alligator on the Discovery Channel, patiently waiting for that first gazelle to try to venture across his stream.
Things I did last weekend that, sadly, were not my first time:
Started drinking beers at 9 am. I blame this on Dustin's friend Dan, aka The Danimal, aka DJ Thunder, who was a horrible/awesome influence on me all weekend long. Not only was he an all-around cool guy, but he also used to play minor league baseball for the Red Sox. Soooooo pretty much I was ready to sleep with him by Sunday afternoon.
Got into a verbal dispute with a bouncer. Honestly, I'd never had a problem with a bouncer in my first 25 years on this earth, up until this last month, and now all of a sudden I'm public enemy #1 with these guys. I JUST WANT TO BRING HOME AN EMPTY KEG CUP SO I CAN THROW IN A CHEW ON THE CAR RIDE HOME, WHY IS THIS SUCH A PROBLEM?
So all in all, a fantastic weekend with fantastic people. I'm sure a lot better pictures will pop up once Chelsey gets back to the Chi and uploads hers, but for now here's a picture of Mike, Chelsey, me, Alex, Sweeney, and Dustin looking like helmets right after we finished line dancing. Yikes.
