Things got wet, then things got weird.
So, we tailgated the Game-That-Wasn't. By which I mean we huddled under an ever-increasing number of canopies for around ten hours and drank. The word 'wet' doesn't begin to explain it. Everything- everything- was saturated. I drove home with my pants off- which is fairly normal for a tailgate.
GoET as the Deviled Egg.
The penis pistols and the destruction of Michael Young.
Cherry Wit. Gatorpaigne (which is shockingly good). BBQ crammed under the rear door of SUVs (which was also good, but that's not shocking.). Begging Anthony Andro to come over and party. A 2010 Four Loko which carried all the varietal's character as described, plus a vague soussant of concrete, decaying animal, and regret (it was a very good year for Four Loko.).
Want to know how dark things got? Case was one of the responsible guys keeping everyone else cool. Case normally devolves into a Ralph Steadman-inspired beast about 45 minutes into these things.
Props to all of us who played that poor parking lot attendant. Here's a few exchanges.
LSB'er (with cooler in passenger seat and 4 foot inflatable dinosaur in the back, 45 minutes before gift shop opens): I'm here for the gift shop?
Attendant: Park on the tree line. WHERE I CAN SEE YOU. Thirty minutes.
LSB'er: Here for the tour.
PLA: You better not be here with THAT group <points to us>.
Anyway, it was awesome and TGVI groundwork has been laid. (Also, my wife was laid CAUSE WE'RE PREGNANT AND SHIT BLAM!)
This thread to recount, recollect, and remunerate. I love you all. Butts.




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