Friday
Jun192009
Choppin Instant Classics: The Northern Air...
Friday, June 19, 2009 at 02:33AM
Last Thursday was the start of an epic five day span of F-U-N. It started with a trip into the northern climes of Michigan. The gang of good-looking guys hopped in their Camaros and pimped out Saturns and head north glad to win some precious time in the friend lottery. The first night was a test run for the debauchery to come. It began innocent enough with speedball and the occasional Beer-stick. The creative bug was rampant and it was biting.
The push-up Beer-stick was attempted. As you can attest from the ripply muscles of Wham Dickham, this is not an easy feat and safety is the ultimate priority, thus the yellow motorcycle helmet and the safety spotting of Uncle Roy.
Friday was another gorgeous day in Mid-Michigan and the beers were flowing like the Titabawassee river that the cottage looked out upon, while the horseshoes were being tossed around like racial slurs at a Klan rally. Wham and Uncle Roy had a hold on the pit for most of the afternoon until John E. Bravo and Scott the Hot Tater Tot unseated the champions in a stunning display of athleticism.
With the arrival of the rest of the crew, the flair for fun picked up exponentially. Of course, wisdom is often gained in these situations and John E. Bravo found out the hard way it is not wise to make fun of women's sports with female college basketball players present and also not to bring up their lack of playing time in a open format zing.
The night progressed without a hiccup until the disappearance of John E. Bravo. He was later spotted by Wham Dickham doing a commando crawl under a blanket. Apparently he was doing a security check on the premise and it passed with flying colors thanks to the quick eyes of Wham and Tons of Fun Tommy.
Saturday saw the removal of John E. Bravo from the premises but the late addition of K.C. the Sunshine Man picked up the dampened spirits of the group (oh wait I forgot they didn't even notice John E. Bravo was gone). A late night kayak trip up the river and an illegal dumping on the banks of the river wild brought the evening up to the standards of epic.
Side note: The only downfall to that wonderful Northern air is it makes your johnson smaller than a baby woodpecker and it becomes absolutely necessary to constantly fluff the poor guy to keep him in the game.
The push-up Beer-stick was attempted. As you can attest from the ripply muscles of Wham Dickham, this is not an easy feat and safety is the ultimate priority, thus the yellow motorcycle helmet and the safety spotting of Uncle Roy.
Friday was another gorgeous day in Mid-Michigan and the beers were flowing like the Titabawassee river that the cottage looked out upon, while the horseshoes were being tossed around like racial slurs at a Klan rally. Wham and Uncle Roy had a hold on the pit for most of the afternoon until John E. Bravo and Scott the Hot Tater Tot unseated the champions in a stunning display of athleticism.
With the arrival of the rest of the crew, the flair for fun picked up exponentially. Of course, wisdom is often gained in these situations and John E. Bravo found out the hard way it is not wise to make fun of women's sports with female college basketball players present and also not to bring up their lack of playing time in a open format zing.
The night progressed without a hiccup until the disappearance of John E. Bravo. He was later spotted by Wham Dickham doing a commando crawl under a blanket. Apparently he was doing a security check on the premise and it passed with flying colors thanks to the quick eyes of Wham and Tons of Fun Tommy.
Saturday saw the removal of John E. Bravo from the premises but the late addition of K.C. the Sunshine Man picked up the dampened spirits of the group (oh wait I forgot they didn't even notice John E. Bravo was gone). A late night kayak trip up the river and an illegal dumping on the banks of the river wild brought the evening up to the standards of epic.
Side note: The only downfall to that wonderful Northern air is it makes your johnson smaller than a baby woodpecker and it becomes absolutely necessary to constantly fluff the poor guy to keep him in the game.
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