pbr part 5.

I actually didn't know it was possible to fall further in love with the PBR.  But apparently it is possible.

So we arrived on Friday night - checked into our hotel, started downing some skittles vodka, showered up, and changed.

As we waited for our taxi, that took about an hour - we polished off another cup of skittles vodka.

We then proceeded to take the scariest taxi ride of our lives.  Seriously, like I thought we were going to be shot in a dark alley way.

We got to the event - had some beers, watched the conclusion and ran for a bar. 

Took some shots, sent a text to one of the riders, and headed to their hotel bar.

We arrived, took some more shots, ordered some beers, and then stepped to the bathroom.  Upon our return to the bar, we stopped for some conversation outside of the bar with some of the riders.  My sister then headed in to order another round of beers with her main boy rider.

I remained outside.  And then suddenly - my endearing cowboy from pbr part 3 came outside and wrapped me in a bear hug.

A bear hug.  How can you not love that?

Clearly I hung out with his little group all evening.

I even missed the screaming match my sister got into with the world's biggest DB.

Then somehow shots got suggested.

Whiskey shots.

I told my sister she should take one because honestly, you couldn't even taste the whiskey.

It was fucking straight whiskey.

Soon after that shot and after some dancing, mister bear hug asked if I was ready to head up to his room.  

I presumbably determined myself ready.

I put on some of bear hug's clothes to sleep, and then he announced he thought he might puke.

His roommate told me that the last time he thought he was gonna puke - he puked everywhere.

I slept in his roommate's bed, no way was I getting puked on.

We woke up, his roommate snuggled with me, because I guess it seemed appropriate.

Then after I got up to pee, I realized that their third roommate was curled up between the wall and bed, sleeping.

When the hell did he arrive?

They took some pictures, showered up, and then woke him up.

At which point he decided he needed to have his back rubbed - so he hopped into bed next to me and I rubbed his back.

Then he took a bath and was heading downstairs.

I texted my sister and found my way to the room she was in with her boy.

We hung out for a bit, took the elevator down, I ran off to find a bathroom to dry heave for a bit (fuck you whiskey), we said adios to my endearing cowboy who was headed home and happened to be in the lobby, and then sauntered off to our hotel.

We stopped on the way and ate some breakfast.

We got back to our room, my sister decided we must find some ice for our vodka.  We set off on the elevator, we got off and I immediately said I need a bathroom.  There was a gym and a trash can.

I made do with the trash can.  Then I walked around the corner to find my sister outside at the pool, and booted in the trash can out there too.

I've actually thought back all the way through college and I have never once booted the afternoon after drinking.

That whiskey shot fucking owned me.

We then proceeded to lie in bed watching a Toddlers and Tiaras marathon while reading damn you auto-correct.

I attempted to eat some pizza after we ran to the mall for some pink tee-shirts, the attempt wasn't all that successful.

We returned to our room, took showers, I took some ibuprofen, ate some pepto, and made myself some skittles vodka.

We made it to the event, rocked it out in the balcony, and then changed out of our pink tee shirts in the bathroom.

We took some shots on the way to the hotel bar, where we met some Europeans who bought us some shots and drinks, and then our cowboys arrived.

We met Flint, sans rodeo entertainer attire, and had some good conversation.

I also made friends with one of the guys who works at the events - who happened to ask where our seats were for the following day.  After I informed him they were in the balcony, he told me to please take his number and text him the next day, and that he would hook us up with some better seats.

I then fell in love with another mister mister who works at the events.  We had some excellent conversation while sitting in the lobby for a few hours listening to the boys play their guitars and sing.

Me and my sister stumbled into a cab at 6AM.

We passed out for 5 hours, packed up our shit, ran for some breakfast, and arrived at the event.

I texted the guy from the night before - and he came out to meet us, tickets in pocket.

I had bullshit kicked up and land on my lap we were so gosh darn close.

TV each ride, yup.

Flint spotted us and gave us a quick I love you sign.

Best seats ever.

Ummmmm....considering we aren't going to Vegas for the finals (imagine my disappointment), can it please be January yet? 

2012 season, here we come.

pbr pbr pbr and plaidurday.

I can't even do a Friday favorites post.

I can't.

I'm so flipping beside myself that it's fucking PBR weekend annnnnd today is Plaidurday!

For this PBR weekend, it's only me and my sister.

I seriously would be terrified if I wasn't so fucking excited.

My sister and I, we kind of need a balance someone with us to mellow our crazy. 

We both are capable of drinking waaay to much, partying waaay to hard, and being able to hang until all hours.

It's almost scary.

But I'm not scared. 

I'm bloody ecstatic.

PBR until Sunday and then I have a memorial golf benefit with a large amount of people on Monday. 

This means I have to be in good enough shape to bamboozle beers on Monday.

It's all about conditioning people, and proper preparation.

Enjoy your weekend!

pbr part 4.

Season opening, PBR style, in NYC.

Now this time around, I was beyond prepared style wise.  My boho-fashionista self was back in action and ready to class it out.

My sister and her friend were unable to leave work early, so that meant we had to wait until the afternoon to head to NYC.

Wait until the afternoon to head to NYC, in January, with a huge snowstorm on the horizon.

We got stuck in a blizzard and lost a windshield wiper.  Meaning we had to get ourselves off the highway, find a store where some nice gentleman would replace said wiper, and we could get back on our merry way.

Needless to say, we didn't get to NYC in time for the event.

Back-up plan: eat some easy-mac, down lots of booze, and head directly to the after party bar.

Clearly we were ready to roll as we showed up at the "after-party" bar. 

But wait....we messed up again?!

Sigh, we hailed a taxi and were taken to the real after party bar.  Except there was an enormous line outside.

One of the cowboys walked by, the one who had lent me his jacket last year in NYC.

Heyyyyyy - remember us?!  Can we hop in with you??

The bouncer nearly stopped us, but as the rider stared at me blankly - he said they're with me.

Booooom - we were in!

Mind you, like a couple hours later - the same rider came up to me as he finally remembered why he knew us.

We danced are bottoms off and somehow remained at the bar until 4AM.

At which point we returned to the hotel - with a rider in tow.

We walked in the doors and seeing the up & down escalator in front of me - I had a brilliant idea.

RAACEE!!

Except I chose to run up the down escalator, racing against a stellar male athlete.

Worst decision ever.  I ended up wiping out at the top, he had to grab me off the escalator, and I collapsed into pain and giggles.

I still have a scar on my right knee where it got tore up.

We all fell asleep, real classy like.

We did some running around NYC the following day and then returned to the hotel to pre-game and primp.

We made it to the event, thank goodness.

We made it to the actual after party bar - where we had some friends meeting up with us.

We proceeded to dance on top of the bar and take a number of shots.

I met some nice cowboy gentleman who was talking me up.  Single, kind, sigh, good looking.

Except as we went outside, one of the riders who I have a serious on-going flirtation with (aka pillow down the middle gentleman)....absconded me into his cab.  Leaving nice gentleman cowboy behind.

One night stand with a married man?  Classy, I know.  You can all punch me in the face later for being that girl.

I roused myself at 7AM and decided I must be close to my actual hotel and that I would walk there.

I was not close.

20 blocks is not close when you are still drunk.

I called my friend and left a voicemail (which I listened to the following week, cripes you couldn't understand a word I said).

I called my other friend and thank goodness she picked up and I rambled as I walked.

I walked straight into the turning doors of my hotel and stood there.

Dude, seriously, the turning doors are broken.  They aren't turning.  I'm standing here, stuck.

After several moments of near drunken panic, I realized you needed to push the doors.

I'm sure the front desk personnel loved it.

I eventually got to my hotel room, changed into boxers & a tee, and jumped into bed.

A few hours later we realized we needed to check out in 30 minutes.

We needed to find my sister.

After tracking her down at a different hotel with a rider - and declaring she rush her ass along considering she needed to transfer her belongings into a different suitcase so that after the event we could drop her off at the airport so she could jet set onto a mini vacay. 

I think she arrived back at our hotel with moments to spare before check-out.

We were disaster-face and me and my sister even had matching hickies.

The best part is - is that one of our friends befriended an elderly security man at the bar the night before.  A security man for Madison Square Garden.

We ended up with seats directly behind the chutes.

Our parents spotted us on tv each time a rider went out.

Stellar.  Best seats EVER.

Following the event - we even got pulled down onto the dirt.

And then went behind the scenes - aka we saw all the riders after the event - as they were showering up & changing.

A whole new level of creep.

Then the security man brought us out for food and drinks.

Then we dropped my sister off at the airport - and drove home.

She was headed off to continue to drink her little heart out on a beach.

We were headed back to recovery in the snow.

pbr part 3.

After nearly a year of living the single life and regressing back to the crazy I was in college, I was officially ready for round 3 of the PBR.

My sister and I, and one of her friends arrived at the hotel on Friday evening. 

Considering the event took place at a casino and we booked a room at the casino, we were set and set.  We guzzled down some booze, showered, primped, and prepped and then ran down the casino hallway - stopping for shots on the way of course and hopped into our seats.

I was 100% prepared, and drunk enough to attempt it, to win fan of the night.  Damn it, I was even wearing sequins.

The event started and I kept my ass out of my seat as much as possible.  Every time a song came on - I made eye contact with the rodeo clown, Flint duh, and started busting moves like you've never seen.

Then it was time.  Time for the announcement.

I thought I lost it for goodness sake, he started talking and was no where to be seen.

And then suddenly, out of the staircase arrived Flint:

At which time he said something like:

To all of you fans sitting behind this girl who are beyond irritated she won't sit her butt down, this girl knows how to have a good time! 

I won for being amazingly annoying. 

I will say that for all my wanting to win, once you start talking into the microphone and then you do a slight turn and realize that for fucks sake you are on a huge screen for the whole arena to see, it's mildly embarassing.  Thank goodness I was tipsy.

After the event, I took a picture with my sweet ass buckle and immediately uploaded it to Facebook.  I then left the buckle in the hotel room (I nearly couldn't bear to part with it, but it was necessary) and we set off for the after party bar.

Where we took a couple sets of shots.  Because it seemed necessary.

The cowboys arrived - and because I have zero concern about being overzealous, I dragged my sister and friend directly next to them and we began dancing our asses off.

I believe at one point I was on the dance floor with a cowboy who was wearing a leather jacket with sheepy lining and no shirt underneath.

At some point we went next door to another bar, where the guys realized I was following along like a small child, and thought it would be funny to see if I would follow them into the men's room, which I did. 

Some how all of us girls got separated.  And I was alone with a group of cowboys fleeing the scene.

I had one attached to my arm (that I was trying to extricate) when one of the most endearing cowboys on tour came over.  I pointed at his belt buckle and asked if he would be willing to swap considering I won fan of the night.

He asked to see the buckle.

We set off for my hotel room with me profusely claiming he saved me and that he was awesome.

We arrived at my hotel room, I proudly displayed my belt buckle, we discussed pets, and our lives.

To make a long story short I had the first one night stand of my life.  He left at some point really early in the morning, after getting my number.

I woke up the next morning in a sweet tie-dye shirt with wild animals on the front and a pair of boy shorts.  I was pretty darn sure I might die.

I turned and my sister had somehow arrived in the other bed.  She was in her going out shirt and a pair of undies.

We discussed the possibility of never moving. 

Then we ultimately decided we needed breakfast.  We dressed while laying down and then dragged our sorry asses to restaurant where I quite honestly could not even make eye contact with the waitress.  I had to stare at the table and concentrate on breathing.

Who sauntered by as we sat in this sorry state?  My one night stand cowboy, that's who.  All smiles and waves as I turned up the corners of my mouth in an attempt to smile as I held in the possibility of puke.

After breakfast we laid down and did not a damn thing until our friend arrived from another hotel down the road.  We had nearly forgotten there was 3 of us.

We began drinking, showering, and prepping for the night ahead.

Ran down the hallway for the event, stopping to grab shots of course, and hopped into our seats.

We immediately got Flint's attention and then immersed ourselves into the riding.

After the event we ran to the after party bar.  Which ended up not being the after party bar.  At which point we ran to the bar from the night before, found an enormous line, and snagged a cowboy's attention - and he had the bouncer let us in.

We drank and danced our asses off once more.

Somehow after discussion with some of the boys - we were informed there was an after the after party at another hotel.

Well of course we went.

Except somehow I ended up in conversation with someone else, ended up missing the ride with the cowboy who invited us, and me and my sister took a taxi ourselves.

We arrived to find NO ONE in the lobby.

We decided to saunter around the hotel, where I was whisper shouting the cowboys names down the hallway (classy, I know), until a door finally opened.

We were in.

We proceeded to drink whiskey and sing songs with the cowboys until 5AM when we stumbled into one of the rooms and collapsed on a bed.  Me on one bed her on another.

She threatened the cowboy that she was in bed with that if he laid a hand on her she would sock him one.

The cowboy I was sharing a bed with, was married.  So I suggested pillows down the middle, because for some reason I thought that was a hilarious saying.

Pillows down middle didn't work out since we didn't have enough, but we both passed out and it was entirely innocent anyways.  Phew.

We skipped the event on Sunday since my sister needed to leave early to be at a wedding, and then drove our sorry asses back home.

It was time for some major alcohol detox and recovery.

But damn was it fucking worth it.

pbr part 2.

So after my first adventure of PBR, it dawned on me that I wanted in. 

I wanted in to this world of hot cowboys, lots of booze, and poor decisions.

Enter part 2 of PBR, NYC style.

Now, I'm no city girl.  Especially during that period of my life.

So we set off from our hotel, after pregaming in the room obvs, to head to the event. 

Now as a sidenote, this excursion occured a few months after my breakup, so I was still in my backwoods style situation (aka I was not dressed appropriately for a night out on the city).

I wore a simple white long sleeve, jeans, and a puffy vest.  No jacket, even though it was January in NYC.  Soooo, a nice lady in the elevator handed me her handwarmers and told me I was going to need them more than her.  She was correct.

The event was awesome, as expected. 

As we exited, we RAN, legit ran, down the roads of NYC to get to the after party bar.  There was no being left out of that situation, let me tell you.

We arrived at the bar, proceeded to order multiple rounds of shots and beers.

I was all in my wide-eyed deer phase, sit at the bar and be quiet (nothing like I am now).

As we left, we hopped into a cab with a couple of the riders, one of whom offered me his jacket for the ride (a Brazilian who happened to win the championship one year).

The plan as my sister whispered to me and our friend, was as soon as it stopped in front of their hotel, we would get out and run as fast as we could to our hotel.

The cab stopped, I hopped out ready to flee.

The other two followed the riders into the hotel.

Well, right, ok.  Plan fail.

So I went with them obviously.

We headed upstairs, woke up a few more cowboys, headed into one of the rooms, turned on the tube, and hung out.

One of the Brazilians took the remote from me (apparently my choice of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire wasn't good enough) and flipped on porn.

PORN.

I had never seen porn in my whole entire life.  I had an enormous case of the giggles as I hid my head in the blankets.

The rider sauntered over to me and with an enormous accent asked would you like to watch the porno, or would you like to make a porno?

WTF.

After everyone gave him shit and realized there was going to be no porno making, he left.

We should have left too.

But alas, my sister was very into one of the riders and informed me that if we wanted to head to our hotel, we would be on our own.

If you know me, that's probs one of the worst ideas ever.  I get lost on the road I grew up on let alone NYC at 4AM.

So we crashed there.

After some man named Potato cranked the heat and order 15 rounds of food.

I fought off a married rider for a few hours before zipping up my puffy vest and wrapping myself like a mummy in a sheet and sweating my ass off in the 85 degree room.

I didn't sleep much.

I started peeping out to my sister and friend at approximately 7AM.

psssh anyone awake in here?

Sometimes I think I'm like a tween at a sleepover party.

My sister said Twigs, zip it.  Wake up our friend and I will be down in like 15.

So I did just that. 

We headed downstairs, grabbed a cold muffin and juice and parked ourselves in this fucking enormous lobby in our obviously wrinkly morning after attire, as all sorts of people in business attire looked upon us with disgrace as they sped by. 

I mean obviously there would be some sort of business convention happening.

Anyways, after 15 minutes passed, we sprawled ourselves on these enormous benches.

We waited close to 45 minutes before I had it. 

I went to the phone, called the operator, gave the riders' name who the room was under, had my call connected, and had my sister put on the phone.

where the eff are you?

Oh as it happens, she fell back asleep.  Nice.

I shouted a bit into the phone until she understood she better hustle her ass down the stairs.

She did, we stumble jogged through the cold back to our hotel and proceeded to sleep for a couple hours.

Woke up, got ready, pregamed, and headed off for the next nights event.

Thankfully, we had another friend join us for the evening.  One who is a bit more together, especially in the city.

So after the event, we ran ass to the bar once more.  Got crazy drunk, danced our asses off, and decided we would head back to the riders' hotel and see if there was an after party.

There wasn't.

But I called the room asking if Potato was around.

He wasn't, but they invited us up anyways.

We left my sister there this time because we had a city girl with us who could lead us to our hotel.

We slept for a couple hours and then went to the last days event.  Leaving one of our friends to sleep in the lobby because "she didn't feel well."

Yup, I said sleep in the lobby, check out time already happened and we weren't about to miss the final day event.

Now, this story is still somewhat PG, at least to me.

But it's the next step into the world of rockstar crazy, PBR style.

pbr part 1.

To say I love the PBR (and I'm talking professional bull riding, definitely not pabst blue ribbon which makes my stomach hurt so I refuse to drink it, I don't care that it's the hipster beer of now), is an understatement.  Obsessed is more appropriate.

It wasn't always this way though.

My sister was a huge fan all through high school, in the fan club and all.  I teased her endlessly about this and refused to watch it on tv.

Then one year she called me wasted at 2AM after being at one of the events.  Twigs - can you call Mom and Dad, I'm not coming home!  I can't drive.  We met all the cowboys at the bar!

Cowboys, excuuuuuse me.  Now you know these professional cowboys - well la-di-da.

So several months later, the PBR came back to the east coast.  At this time I was in a shit-ass terrible dark spot relationship and my sister said I don't care what you want, you are coming to the event.

So I drove out to the venue and went.

And wouldn't you know, it was effing amazeballs!

It was an adrenaline rush from the stands and completely captured my attention.

Cowboys, damn it, are smokin' hot and tough as nails.

Plus we were old enough to go to the bars after the event, a la after party - can you say yes!

Which is where we met all the cowboys and I looked into the eyes of not one of the riders, but of one of the workers of the Pike Power Team (the guys who get the bulls ready, open gates, etc.).

Swoon as soon as he opened his mouth, of course.

He invited me to go grab food with his buddy, which I declined, because seriously I was in a relationship, duh. 

I regretted this decision for months and stalked him endlessly through facebook, especially considering my relationship ended like days later.

This story is incredibly PG and realistically, it's just an introduction about how PBR hooked me, and hooked me hard.

Because trust me this story is vanilla....but my love affair with PBR was just beginning.

And the crazy was just beginning.