We decided to kill about 6 birds with drunk stones, and went to the Breckenridge Beer Festival. We were also surprised to find that we have friends that are girls, and convinced 3 of them to go with us. Since we were all staying in one room at the Holiday Inn (at a very cheap price thanks to Mandy’s friend) it was clearly going to end up being a lady homosexual weekend. Or, at least, that’s what a high number of males kept asking.
“We’re all going up to Breck this weekend,”
“Oh yeah? If you’re all in one hotel room, does that mean you’re going to be drunk and sharing beds?”
Our first stop on the way was to pick up Mandy, who lives in a neighborhood where there are always children. Or, at least we thought.
No children here, except the sweet Baby Jesus
Once we had checked in to our hotel in Frisco and meandered over to Back Country Brewery for lunch/pregaming we boarded the free shuttle to Breckenridge to get wasted at the beer festival.
Here we met the first of our colorful cast of characters that eventually joined us for the rest of the day.
Amber, Lisa, Mandy and Megan were all sitting in the back of the bus next to 3 skateboarding troubled youths, a guy missing half of his front tooth, a guy wearing neon yellow sunglasses and a guy who apparently got offended at being called a gypsy.
As usual, a convo started up between everyone, with two of the guys claiming that they don’t pay their taxes. Seeing as this is one of the top signs of being a gypsy, a lot of name calling commenced.
Lisa looked sad to be sitting next to Half-Tooth, who clearly smelled terrible, but still thought it was okay to talk to us. When someone mentioned the blog, we said we assumed he couldn’t read it because he clearly didn’t own a computer with Internet service. He whipped out his phone and said he could read it there.
He then turned to his friend to start discussing whose lawn he was planning on camping out on that night.
Thankfully since I was sitting next to him I couldn’t see that he had only half a tooth and got to sit ignorantly thinking he had a sexy hockey player beard and the horrible smell was from too much athleticism. Thanks to everyone else for ruining this for me. – Lisa
The other guy who had proclaimed that he didn’t believe in paying taxes (I don’t know why that concept offends me so much, but it truly does. We all have to pay taxes. It’s how it works) got miffed and stopped speaking to us when Amber called him a gypsy to his face. (I’m not sure why we were so surprise they didn’t pay their taxes since we did meet them on a vehicle of public transportation. )
In the meantime, the guy with neon sunglasses (who we dubbed “New York” because that’s where he was from) started guessing where we would all end up at the end of the night. This is what he determined
Megan: Probably lost in the woods
Mandy: In jail, most likely for hitting someone
Amber: Taking care of everyone else
Lisa: Making out with random guys
By this time we had reached the festival, so we said goodbye to everyone and went on our way, assuming we’d never see any of them again. Little did we know.
The Beer Festival was glorious. Dozens of brewers from across the country were there with some of their most popular beers. Our cups looked like we were about to give pee samples, and the brewers had a lot of IPA’s.
DISCLAIMER: If you expect this post to have anything beer related, you’re on the wrong post. We didn’t take a single note on beer. (It would have been impossible with the frequency in which we were re-filling our cups). The only thing we remember is that there was a delicious green chili beer somewhere and when they start to run out of beer nothing gets you to the front of the line faster than a nice rack.
Thongs and Beer Festivals lead to Babies. It's just good marketing on their part
We asked a man to take a picture of all of us.
Man: “Which camera should I use? Yours or mine? Haha.”
Man: “Can I take a picture to send to my wife?”
Mandy: “Do you want to get divorced?’
He must have really liked the view...
We finally saw the elusive Firkin
note: this is the only beer related term that will be used in this post
Someone fell over it, dropped their beer, and everyone booed. I love beer festival comraderie.
We learned that wearing slutty dresses has a purpose. You can keep your cup in your cleavage. I feel this will come in VERY handy at the Great American Beer Festival.
Boobs are so useful.
Too bad the beer being poured DID NOT GO with the beer in the cup
Mandy somehow recognized New York from the bus, yelled at him, and then had him join our entourage for the rest of the day.
And we took a picture with him, as though he was a celebrity
Later, he and I traded sunglasses.
We saw a man with a tramp stamp (Mamp-stamp), and chased him to get a picture of it
He may as well have a bullseye tatooed there. To match the arrow he had tattooed about his penis. No, seriously.
We decided to take a dip in the lake. And by decided, I mean that Lisa was a bitch, and threw my shoe in the water.
And clearly she's kicking at it, to make it go further in
I had to go get it
I threw her cup in, in retaliation. Too bad there was no more beer, and it turned out to not be her cup.
Then we all got in.
(Directly following this picture was taken we all playfully splashed water on each other and then had to go back to the room and all undress and dry each other off….PSYCH!)
Mandy ran in to her friend Fox, who was very nice, but had also recently “gotten back in to town” (I’ll let you decide what that means).
Yes, his name is Fox and yes, he did have a tattoo of a Fox. (See below)
He was also gentlemanly enough to let us take our blog’s first Guest Moob Shot.
We believe in equal opportunities on this blog.
After the festival. Fox bribed us with the promise of crepes, so we headed down the street to go to the crepes stand he worked at.
Megan, Amber and I were walking slightly behind and all looked confused when we passed the crepes, and instead watched Lisa and Mandy head into a bar.
Apparently they were just planning on going in to pee, but the old men out front said that there was no way the two of them could get to the bar for drinks because it was packed and they themselves had failed. The girls took that challenge and said that if they did, the men had to buy them shots. Of course they were at the front of the bar about 5 seconds later.
And then they had to buy us all shots.
Us: 1Middle-aged men: 0
After the bar, we headed to Breckenridge Brewery, where we were mean to the waiter, used stickers as pasties, and had a group bulimia session. We also convinced one guy to ALSO wear stickers as pasties, then referred to him as such for the rest of the night.
Afterwards, while walking to the next bar, we asked Pasties how his pasties were.
Pasties: “I took them off,”
Lisa, Julia, Amber: “Booooooooooooo”
He stormed off. If you couldn’t tell, we were really good at making friends. (Actually, I think at one point we counted the total of people we pissed off in Breck, and it took two hands to count, so we said we couldn’t ever go back).
Amber lost her camera, so Lisa and I went with her to retrieve it while Mandy and Megan went with New York and Pasties.
We got horribly lost, had no idea where they had gone. We drunkenly stopped to ask the guy sitting on the bench, texting.
Benchie (as we began calling him) told us he had no idea where the bar in question was, but would we want to go to a Tool coverband concert instead?
Lisa almost had a heart attack right there, as Tool is her favorite band in the world. Amber and I agreed to go, until we learned it was a $12 cover charge. However, we somehow gypsy-tricked the bouncer into letting us in for $6.
As we stood waiting for the band to start, Benchie and his friend Squirrel (nicknamed because he had a skunk in the shape of a two on his shirt that I mistook for a squirrel) attempted to talk to us. Which led to
THE GREATEST SHUT DOWN OF ALL TIME.
Amber (flirtatiously): “I’m really thirsty. I wish someone would buy me a beer right now.”
Benchie (without missing a beat): “Yeah? Well I’d like a blowjob right now, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?”
Julia: “If she gives you two blow jobs, can I get a beer too?”
He did end up buying us beers, then abandoned us to go play more with his phone. Squirrel wandered off, Amber and I got bored by the band and we went to find our friends, who were at a local dive bar.
We found them taking tequila shots with MORE old men and playing pool. (Also, fun note, Megan started juggling pool balls. She has video of that, and, the entire trip, but we have decided to NEVER watch it). Based on momentary lapses in drunkeness we remember the following clips of video being taken; a few ass -flashings, a convo about drug consumption and REAL lady homosexual tendencies and a 360 view of the last bar we went to that we remember.
We discovered this lobster on the outside of a Subaru.
This is what happens when you drive drunk in the ocean.
The word of the night was Twat-swatting.
Twat-swatting (v.) – this is the female equivalent of cock-blocking. However, we only did it because some of us didn’t have our phones and it would’ve been difficult to find them in the morning. Normally, we don’t believe in twat-swatting, as we feel that all ladies should have the right to go home with whoever they want.
Finally, on the way back to the car, someone knocked on the window of a school bus in a parking lot, which woke up the children who were sleeping in it. The last thing we heard as we drove away were their terrified screams.
And with that, our ridiculous day came to an end, and we went back to the hotel, where we all braided each other’s hair, and had pillow fights.