Monday, June 27, 2011

Sorry for partying.

It's a two post day... only because I really don't want to do anything productive tonight.  This one is dedicated to... well, me.  And my frands who celebrated my birthday with me this year.

I went to Smashville to celebrate with my main lovers.  It started innocently enough with margaritas and "dinner."  Dinner is in quotations marks because I consumed mainly lime wedges and tequila.  Woof.  So here we go.

I don't know why I blacked out.
Surprisingly normal.

Out come the peace signs. Probably starting to get grey...

Definitely at grey out right now.
Getting darker...

Andie and Shorty Bo Peep


This last picture is Steve. Steve talks like a frog.  Steve loves Dale Earnhardt.  I fell in love SBP didn't approve but went along with my obsession.  It was my birthday, after all.  There are a shortage of pictures of me this night... mainly because I sloppy joe drunk and the garbage man eyes were out in full effect.  I wound up getting kicked out.  Of a bar.  ON my birthday.  Allegedly I wanted to take a nap.  I don't see why this was a problem.  I haven't been kicked out of a bar since I was caught drinking underage when I was 18.  Obviously turned 26 has catapulted me into adulthood.  {To explain garbage man eyes, see below}
Yup. Sloppy. Sloppy. Joe.
Moving on...  To say I was hungover the next day would be a horrible understatement.  Whoever said that breakfast is the most important meal of the day has never binge drank without eating a substantial dinner.  I barfed all day long.  Took not one, not two but THREE hangover showers.  Ate a plethora of popsicles and slept... a lot.  But the party had to keep on going.  SBP bought us tickets to see Jonny Lang at the Ryman that night.  He was wonderful and delicious.  The fans he brought out were better than anyone can ever imagine.  {Quick aside: I stopped yacking shortly before walking into the Ryman.}  Then we went to Paradise Park - a bar modeled after a trailer park? Yes, please.

Mr. Lang

My cowlick was out in full effect this weekend

I somehow managed to drink?

For future reference.

SBP & Nashville.

That's definitely fireball in her hand.

Hand over face = black out. Part two.

Nashville and Vanilla Thrilla. My faves.
Then there were the men that were attracted to me that night.  I tend to draw in real winners.  He's proof.

Hank, Jr.

This guy was homeless.  And got closer to me every 5 minutes.

Fact:  This guy had a rat tail.
There was one other fella that we didn't get a picture of and it broke my little heart.  He looked like Jesus.  His real name was Eddie but told me I could call him Jesus, quite the charmer, I know.  I decided I would call him Ian. Or girl.  He wasn't fond of either but it wasn't up to him.  Here's what happened during our first exchange:

Take away the beard and blonde hair.
{Real talk: I googled hot Jesus to find this picture.  I'm going to hell fo sho.}

Ian:  It's your birthday.  You know what you should do?  Have sex with me.
Me: Ha. No thanks, girl.
Ian: (looks at Nashville) You can join us, too.
Me: Um, that's my sister.
Ian: It's cool... she can still join us.

As we made our way back to the car I managed to thoroughly insult some Spaniards by asking if they were French... or German.  They can't take a joke so fuck em.

Sunday Funday started with breakfast at Cracker Barrel and napping.  Lots of napping by everyone but me.  I sat up and stared at them {true story} and sent them text messages trying to wake them up.

Hangovers hurt more when you're old.

This is the homeless times. True story.
I'm hold Boozeman hostage.
I found this on a trash can. I was getting into character.
Then I was excited I had a new toy
Then I was scared by the bald man.
Things quickly got out of hand.  Scottie Don't was hanging out with us for the first time all weekend and I truly enjoy emotionally abusing him.  I don't know why other than I can. So I do.  Here's proof:

The sign reads: "Blow jobs $50 Ask for Scottie"
There were a few men interested... they wanted to negotiate the price but Scottie stood firm.  Rage part three: the finale ended with wildly bad decisions, a bathroom mishap and more bad decisions.  It was a wild success.

SBP and I went and shot guns to round the weekend out but I'm saving those pictures for another time.


Lindsey and Rich said...

I love cracker barrell. I'm also glad you survived your birthday, it sounds like you came close to death there a few times! Looks like it was so fun!

Miss Sassy Pants said...

HAHAHA I love taking pictures with random rattail/inbred/redneck old men when I go out. But not necessarily the part where they creep closer and closer.