(Could also be titled: This is why we can't have nice things)
I was soaking up the sun in my backyard, with a cold drink and a good book Saturday afternoon when my phone started ringing.
"Can you be ready in 20 minutes?" she asked.
"HA... no way, I just finished mowing my grass & am gross" I argued
"I'll be at your house in 25 minutes. You don't need to shower. See you soon" Then she hung up.
I roll my eyes, Brit is always up to some sort of shenanigans. I collect my stuff & wander inside to change out of my sweaty grass covered clothes and text her to see what exactly I was supposed to wear to this afternoon of debauchery that I was being kidnapped for.
Her response: shorts, tank top, your boots.
My excitement was peaked. I embrace any chance to don the cowboy boots. 45 minutes later we pulled off the country road onto this property and it became evident what I was getting myself into
A whole lotta muddin was goin on
Naturally, I was like a kid on Christmas morning and it didn't take long to go from this...
Brit & I grabbed a bucket of beer and hopped in the back of one of her friends pick-ups, and the four of us went and got stuck real good.
Naturally, Boone's Farm was consumed straight from the bottle. Once that ran out we turned to Jack.
Then things got REAL interesting. The night ended in cornhole, bonfires and all around shootin the shit in the bed of a pickup truck.