Monster Trucks!

Yeah, the four of us, Whitney, Christian, Dakota, and I, went to a Monster Truck show in Ft. Lauderdale. And if you think we're lame, you obviously have never been to a Monster Truck show. We originally thought we were going to fit in perfectly, dressed as trashy, rednecked-out as possible, showing up completely belligerent from Miller High Life, wearing cut up clothing and obnoxious attitudes. With the help of the lovely, but MIA, Pagina, I got dressed up in white Daisy Duke-esque shorts, a harley davidson cut off tank, boots, and a fanny pack. Of course, the first suggestion when I ask how a trashy redneck dresses was "Flannel and cutoffs?" SEE PIC AT TOP OF PAGE FOR A GOOD LAUGH.

However, when we got there, we quickly realized that we were the ones that looked completely out of place because it turned out to be a relatively normal family event (how the fuck were we supposed to know normal people went to Monster Truck shows??) and we stuck out like sore thumbs, reeking of booze, cigarettes, and dressed like total poons.

It actually turned out to be a blast! Christian and I bet Whitney and Dakota that the GRAVEDIGGER would win the tournament, and they were huge fans of Batman! It turned out, obviously, the cooler truck won, and Christian and I won ourselves a round of Bud Lights, and of course rubbed it in Whiz and Dakota's faces at every opportunity.

And of course, there were the classic moments of Whiz and I flirting with the Motocross bikers, Monster Truck drivers, and of course, the digger disc promo dude. And let's not forget the world famous, and very classic "Air BJ Signal," to one of the referees. He ran over to his other referee friends and giggled like a school boy while trying to hide his boner. Yeah I said it.

Here are some shots from the show!
Sick Son-a-Bitches!






After the show, we decided our night was not over, and we proceeded to drink another pitcher of Bud Light at Flannigan's, still dressed like fucking idiots, ate gross greasy food, and chatted it up with Scott, the 38 year old waiter that had a 15 year old son, and has been sexually active for longer than I've been alive, but he still managed to hit on Whit and I. Oh-- and my AMAZING FRIEND WHIZ decided to leave him MY REAL PHONE NUMBER on the receipt. Thanks, Whiz, you're quite the special friend!!