I was over at my ma’s house cutting the grass today. Usually when I mow the lawn, I have tons of thoughts barreling though my beer soaked brain. Today was no different. One thing I noticed was how neat the bushes looked. Someone had trimmed them up pretty well. I know it wasn’t my brother. His lazy ass doesn’t do yardwork over at moms. He probably paid someone to come over and do it. If so, why the hell can’t he pay someone to mow the freakin’ lawn too?!?!?
Pushing the mower helped to sober me up a bit. I was a tad groggy waking up this morning. That’s what happens after a Drinking For Jesus tourstop. St. Romans lived up to its glory (does that make sense?). Beer, friends, music. Good time. I found one band to be hilarious. The Rockerfellas pretty much suck. Some guy singing the Beastie Boys-yes singing, not rapping- with a high pitched voice. I had to double check to see if it wasn’t a chick. At the other tent was Mt. Olive. They are good enough. They play all kinds of stuff short of country. They may have but I don’t recall. One thing they did that annoyed me was the “white boy rap” thing. Why is it when some cover band decides to play a rap song, that one of the members must put on a clock (ala Flavor Flav) while another just stands there trying to look menacing (ala Run DMC)? You just look stupid. One thing I must give Mt. Olive credit for though is their rendition of the Ramones I Wanna be Sedated. They crank it out pretty good, and then start singing the lyrics in different languages. My fave is the German. Schnell! Schnell! Schnell!
The people at Romans leaned to the ugly side. This certainly wasn’t a Bell curve of beauty walking around. More like a barbell. And the majority of the chicks looked like they got hit by one in the face. Either they were hot or ugly. Very little in between. Maybe the sights will be better tonight.
Won my bottle of cheap rum. Drew Bledsoe pays off already!!! That means I had the #11 paddle. Which reminds of me of the guy I saw playing in the WSOP event in Vegas. He walked towards me with a Dallas Cowboys 11 jersey on. My first thought was “Cool! A guy wearing a Danny White jersey.” Later I noticed it was the new Drew Bledsoe jersey. Not quite as cool but still good. But the good old 11 did win me a bottle of Ron Rio rum. Yep, quality rum in a plastic bottle. Maybe tonight the Julius Jones will pay off for some brandy.
Got in a Dial-A-Drink with Al. Missed his last Sunday and realized I had forgotten to call back. Seeing that I was in the middle of Drinking for Jesus, it seemed right to drink to another man with long hair. Without any shootable liquors by me, the Dial-A-Shot had to be switched to Dial-A-Drink on my end. Of course Al had his SoCo and Mike drank one too. I asked Al if they had church festivals out east. I believe he said they didn’t. It can’t be a Wisconsin thing. Though we do tend to find reasons to drink out if public, I am sure other areas of the country do the same thing. If not, why the heck not? Leave the feedback please.
I kept drinking my beer, shooting the shit with the guys, and ogling the women (the few that were oglable) until the night came to a close and they tried to kick us out. Literally. When the night is over, proper drunks head to the liquor raffle booth to pick up the booze they have left behind, and to drink some more. As I stood there talking with one of the boys running the show, a security guard came up to me and told me I had to leave. I ignored him. I am talking with some of the main people running the festival. He repeats himself. I tell him I am talking with friends. He persists. Granted, he is doing his job, but does he know who these people are that I am talking with? At this point one of the guys tells me to just hop behind the tent for a while and all will be good. Don’t have to tell me twice to get closer to booze. A bit later, the Candy Lady would come by with a huge bag of candy. Everyone dove in. I must have ate a dozen little Almond Joys. Before long, the booze was all packed up and it was time to call it a night.
Got enough sleep to do it all over again tonight. Someone has to Drink For Jesus. That someone is me.