Me, Evil 22, Dr. Evil and Jana slip farther into beer heaven

Wednesday, July 28
Showtunes all the way to Rockwell. Maybe Team Diego could learn from us and bring more than two tapes with them. Variety kids, variety. Tail wind propels us to Mach 1. Is that Wes up ahead. Join us young one. (Recruiting has officially started.) Where the hell is our support vehicle? Better replenish our empty bellies with beer and potatoes. There’s that damn support vehicle. Gimme a Lipton Brisk or Miller Lite or something. Greene offers many treats: shade, beer, Evil, beer, Jana (now from Minnesota), beer, locals offering us beer. How many beers until the rest of the team shows. That would be six. Let’s hear it for Wes and his map reading skills. The team rides together from Clarksville (sans Bryan, but we have Wes). What’s so great about Wes, he has Fizzlers on the road. Hello Shell Rock, we promise to relieve you of all of your booze. Laurie gets us a camp site next to the swimming pool. Better use it now before some unruly drunks clean themselves in it after hours. This means you Team Dennis. We smell good so time for alt. town. The bottom of that hill seems to be filling with water. “That can’t be good for business. That can’t be good for anybody.” It’s getting dark, time for Bryan and the Die Hards to get to town. [Note: Wes arrives with us, Bryan with Die Hard. The wheels are turning.] Somehow we get stuck in the drinking jail. Them: massage train. Us: swing like monkeys. Wilco-ish band playing outside. Extra cool! See Aaron for first time. “Where’s your hot wife?” See Ali for first time. Hot Damn Aaron! (and that was just the bottle he was carrying around and forcing down people’s throats) Could somebody get the ferry to bring us back to our site. Ahh, its been a long time, almost a year, since a late night was spent with Jana. Just talking you perverts. This year wasn’t FUCKBRAI.