You can't make this stuff up.
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You can't make this stuff up.
The stories I have from this weekend at the Shootout could go on forever. The laughs were non stop. My stomach still hurts. I would love to tell them all but that would be impossible. One story in particular comes to mind. It's worthy enough to take the time to type out. So here goes...
We close Dog Days Saturday night. Of course the alcohol had been flowing freely by this time. Us being the responsible ones we all decided that it was entirely too early to call it a night. We grab a few cans of Red Bull to go and head to Bubba's condo for a night cap and some laughs.
There were 7 or 8 of us if I remember correctly. The victim of this story is the only name that matters. Big Mike was feeling no pain. Now for those of you who have never met Big Mike let me give you a short description of him. He could be a stunt double for Frankenstein. Let's just say he's been eating his wheeties.
After a quick breakfast cooked by our in house chef Mac we settled in the living room for some laughs. Big Mike and Bubba were in a twin recliner of some sort all kicked back and relaxed. Let me give you a visual of this. Imagine two whales sitting in a thimble. Pretty much sums it up.
The guys started dropping like flies as the night wore on. Everyone but myself was crashed. I decided to continue watching the nineteenth airing of the Shootout from that day and nod off to sleep. I could tell this was gonna be a little tough. The condo temperature was hovering somewhere around 22 degrees and I had no blanket. The symphonic sounds of these passed out drunks farting and snoring in their sleep was non stop. There wasn't a fly within 50 yards of this house that was safe.
I had been sitting there half asleep for around an hour or so by now. Big Mike was crashed on the so called recliner that looked like something out of a doll house under him. I noticed him get up and walk off. A couple minutes later he came back looking for something. Then he left again, then he came back again, then he left again, then he came back again. Me being the concerned buddy I decided to ask him if he needed anything? Big Mike says "mumble bla bla bla mumble drunk talk bla bla bla". Ok, don't guess I can help him. He leaves again and comes back with a blanket. Ahhh, he's cold! He proceeds to lay down on the floor in the fetal position.
This is where a camera would have come in handy. You see, Big Mike, as his name implies, is slightly on the "big" side. After he got this so called blanket on him my inner child came out. I think I actually had tears in my eyes I was laughing so hard. Imagine trying to cover yourself up with a wash cloth and stay warm, that's exactly what this looked like. I honestly think he might have had his hip and part of his leg covered if he was lucky. This blanket would have kept most people warm, unfortunately for Big Mike I don't think it did him any good.
I decided around 5 am I was sober enough to drive back to my condo and woke my buddy up. I made it a point to let him get a good look at Big Mike before we left. I'm glad I showed him, it was pretty much the topic of conversation all the way home tonight.
Thanks for the laughs Big Mike....
Buck
We close Dog Days Saturday night. Of course the alcohol had been flowing freely by this time. Us being the responsible ones we all decided that it was entirely too early to call it a night. We grab a few cans of Red Bull to go and head to Bubba's condo for a night cap and some laughs.
There were 7 or 8 of us if I remember correctly. The victim of this story is the only name that matters. Big Mike was feeling no pain. Now for those of you who have never met Big Mike let me give you a short description of him. He could be a stunt double for Frankenstein. Let's just say he's been eating his wheeties.
After a quick breakfast cooked by our in house chef Mac we settled in the living room for some laughs. Big Mike and Bubba were in a twin recliner of some sort all kicked back and relaxed. Let me give you a visual of this. Imagine two whales sitting in a thimble. Pretty much sums it up.
The guys started dropping like flies as the night wore on. Everyone but myself was crashed. I decided to continue watching the nineteenth airing of the Shootout from that day and nod off to sleep. I could tell this was gonna be a little tough. The condo temperature was hovering somewhere around 22 degrees and I had no blanket. The symphonic sounds of these passed out drunks farting and snoring in their sleep was non stop. There wasn't a fly within 50 yards of this house that was safe.
I had been sitting there half asleep for around an hour or so by now. Big Mike was crashed on the so called recliner that looked like something out of a doll house under him. I noticed him get up and walk off. A couple minutes later he came back looking for something. Then he left again, then he came back again, then he left again, then he came back again. Me being the concerned buddy I decided to ask him if he needed anything? Big Mike says "mumble bla bla bla mumble drunk talk bla bla bla". Ok, don't guess I can help him. He leaves again and comes back with a blanket. Ahhh, he's cold! He proceeds to lay down on the floor in the fetal position.
This is where a camera would have come in handy. You see, Big Mike, as his name implies, is slightly on the "big" side. After he got this so called blanket on him my inner child came out. I think I actually had tears in my eyes I was laughing so hard. Imagine trying to cover yourself up with a wash cloth and stay warm, that's exactly what this looked like. I honestly think he might have had his hip and part of his leg covered if he was lucky. This blanket would have kept most people warm, unfortunately for Big Mike I don't think it did him any good.
I decided around 5 am I was sober enough to drive back to my condo and woke my buddy up. I made it a point to let him get a good look at Big Mike before we left. I'm glad I showed him, it was pretty much the topic of conversation all the way home tonight.
Thanks for the laughs Big Mike....
Buck
Last edited by buck183; 10-24-2007 at 02:11 AM.
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To funny...I could tell a few stories myself...One involves the lesbians we gave a ride to, which turned out to be quite the entertainment on Saturday. The other which most of you know by now involves to waking up in the morning to a sunkin 42 fountain and a 10g bill to follow! Thanks for all your guys help who I called and bugged this morning. We made it back to Columbus, Ohio with the boat and will be tearing it down tomorrow to find out what went wrong. I will download the pics tomorrow of the sunkin mess and the raising of the dead...It was nice to party with some of you all again and meet some of you for the first time.
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Hillbilly love!!!!!
I think the blanket was my defense against any Hillbilly love flying around the room from you two clowns!!!!! I think I'm going in for my liver transplant later on today, anyone got an extra?
Great weekend, great fun!!!!!
Mike
Great weekend, great fun!!!!!
Mike
The stories I have from this weekend at the Shootout could go on forever. The laughs were non stop. My stomach still hurts. I would love to tell them all but that would be impossible. One story in particular comes to mind. It's worthy enough to take the time to type out. So here goes...
We close Dog Days Saturday night. Of course the alcohol had been flowing freely by this time. Us being the responsible ones we are decided that it was entirely too early to call it a night. We grab a few cans of Red Bull to go and head to Bubba's condo for a night cap and some laughs.
There were 7 or 8 of us if I remember correctly. The victim of this story is the only name that matters. Big Mike was feeling no pain. Now for those of you who have never met Big Mike let me give you a short description of him. He could be a stunt double for Frankenstein. Let's just say he's been eating his wheeties.
After a quick breakfast cooked by our in house chef Mac settled in the living room for some laughs. Big Mike and Bubba were in a twin recliner of some sort all kicked back and relaxed. Let me give you a visual of this. Imagine two whales sitting in a thimble. Pretty much sums it up.
The guys started dropping like flies as the night wore on. Everyone but myself was crashed. I decided to continue watching the nineteenth airing of the Shootout from that day and nod off to sleep. I could tell this was gonna be a little tough. The condo temperature was hovering somewhere around 22 degrees and I had no blanket. The symphonic sounds of these passed out drunks farting and snoring in their sleep was non stop. There wasn't a fly within 50 yards of this house that was safe.
I had been sitting there half asleep for around an hour or so by now. Big Mike was crashed on the so called recliner that looked like something out of a doll house under him. I noticed him get up and walk off. A couple minutes later he came back looking for something. Then he left again, then he came back again, then he left again, then he came back again. Me being the concerned buddy I decided to ask him if he needed anything? Big Mike says "mumble bla bla bla mumble drunk talk bla bla bla". Ok, don't guess I can help him. He leaves again and comes back with a blanket. Ahhh, he's cold! He proceeds to lay down on the floor in the fetal position.
This is where a camera would have come in handy. You see, Big Mike, as his name implies, is slightly on the "big" side. After he got this so called blanket on him my inner child came out. I think I actually had tears in my eyes I was laughing so hard. Imagine trying to cover yourself up with a wash cloth and stay warm, that's exactly what this looked like. I honestly think he might have had his hip and part of his leg covered if he was lucky. This blanket would have kept most people warm, unfortunately for Big Mike I don't think it did him any good.
I decided around 5 am I was sober enough to drive back to my condo and woke my buddy up. I made it a point to let him get a good look at Big Mike before we left. I'm glad I showed him, it was pretty much the topic of conversation all the way home tonight.
Thanks for the laughs Big Mike....
Buck
We close Dog Days Saturday night. Of course the alcohol had been flowing freely by this time. Us being the responsible ones we are decided that it was entirely too early to call it a night. We grab a few cans of Red Bull to go and head to Bubba's condo for a night cap and some laughs.
There were 7 or 8 of us if I remember correctly. The victim of this story is the only name that matters. Big Mike was feeling no pain. Now for those of you who have never met Big Mike let me give you a short description of him. He could be a stunt double for Frankenstein. Let's just say he's been eating his wheeties.
After a quick breakfast cooked by our in house chef Mac settled in the living room for some laughs. Big Mike and Bubba were in a twin recliner of some sort all kicked back and relaxed. Let me give you a visual of this. Imagine two whales sitting in a thimble. Pretty much sums it up.
The guys started dropping like flies as the night wore on. Everyone but myself was crashed. I decided to continue watching the nineteenth airing of the Shootout from that day and nod off to sleep. I could tell this was gonna be a little tough. The condo temperature was hovering somewhere around 22 degrees and I had no blanket. The symphonic sounds of these passed out drunks farting and snoring in their sleep was non stop. There wasn't a fly within 50 yards of this house that was safe.
I had been sitting there half asleep for around an hour or so by now. Big Mike was crashed on the so called recliner that looked like something out of a doll house under him. I noticed him get up and walk off. A couple minutes later he came back looking for something. Then he left again, then he came back again, then he left again, then he came back again. Me being the concerned buddy I decided to ask him if he needed anything? Big Mike says "mumble bla bla bla mumble drunk talk bla bla bla". Ok, don't guess I can help him. He leaves again and comes back with a blanket. Ahhh, he's cold! He proceeds to lay down on the floor in the fetal position.
This is where a camera would have come in handy. You see, Big Mike, as his name implies, is slightly on the "big" side. After he got this so called blanket on him my inner child came out. I think I actually had tears in my eyes I was laughing so hard. Imagine trying to cover yourself up with a wash cloth and stay warm, that's exactly what this looked like. I honestly think he might have had his hip and part of his leg covered if he was lucky. This blanket would have kept most people warm, unfortunately for Big Mike I don't think it did him any good.
I decided around 5 am I was sober enough to drive back to my condo and woke my buddy up. I made it a point to let him get a good look at Big Mike before we left. I'm glad I showed him, it was pretty much the topic of conversation all the way home tonight.
Thanks for the laughs Big Mike....
Buck
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I thought that I got away from LOTO unscathed--unlike the other CATS... until I hit a stop sign with the starboard side of the boat and RAN OVER FIREBALLS TRUCK with the portside!!
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#10
Oh well, you didn't want to break your streak did you?