We decided to ride up together to Manhattan for the Big Wildcat Game, which turned out to be awesome. Non-stop chitty chatter the whole way up. We talked about houses, decorating, our husbands (who decided to spend the weekend hunting which gave us this little getaway weekend sans boys. Thank you Lord.), crazy families, holiday shenanigans, and everything under the sun! Girly Time: It. Was. Bliss.
Once we got to the holy grail of college towns, we had a little dinner, and made our way to our friends John & Lori's house and let the good times roll!
I'm gonna tell ya, nothing, and I mean NUSSING, beats walking in and seeing this little cuddle furbear:
Oh, and Porter didn't start out a Porter. He started out a Stella. Apparently some people have a difficult time determining the ding-ding from the hoo-ha (more on that in a little bit). John, do you need to go back to grade school and go through sex ed again??? Poor little guy doesn't know what to think!
We hung out and drank some brewskies outside, then mosied at the appropriate time of 1am. Jeesh. The weekend had one stellar start.
Waking up Saturday to get the tailgate started was......a little rough. To say the least. And remember how I was saying that we'd get out there around 10:30am, because clearly four hours is plenty of time to amp up for the game......well, it's not. Nope. Just not enough time. We decided that 9:30am is a much better time to start the drunkfest. Oh. My. God. It's ok, we just pretend we're 22 again and forget we're old tits and can't hang like we used to. Until we wake up Sunday and want to shove our melons in a vat of ice water to numb the pain. It's fine.
The morning started off chilly willy too.Stupid weatherman that said it was going to be sunny and 65 degrees. Fail.
|That would be the Bill Snyder Stadium. AKA The Bill.|
We set up camp and commenced the drinkage of beer. This was the tailgate:
|What a couple of goood looookin' chica's!|
BTW, this was pre-30mph winds so our hair still looks all super duper.
But some other culinary genius made this amazing dip/salsa/badass concoction. Oh my DeeeeLish. I didn't get the recipe. Shit.
|Looks scrumdeeleeumptions right?! It was. Don't hate.|
And, apparently Jordan did too, as she bellied right up to the brat bar.
First, it was my freaking phenomenal idea to grab this perfectly normal person and make her pose with psychopants me because of the little word written across her ta-tas. In honor of all my BOOBs, this is for you:
|Look at her, she's like, "This lady has a few loose marbles".|
Sometimes, sometimes I do.
But, she does have one flaw. It was not only John and Lori that had a hard time distinguishing the gender of their cute little Porter, but Andrea had a major hand in it as well. See, Porter's mom is Andrea's parent's dog. So she was there when J & L went to pick out their 'Stella'. Well, as she so quaintly put it, "I am not a ding-ding professional." Strange saying #1. I guess you could say that's a good thing on one hand, but a bad thing for little Porter's thing.
Here we are a little while later.
|Hellloooo thighs. Keep up that running Laura. Please.|
Thank God the game was about to start, otherwise it could have gotten very interesting. Very interesting indeed.
We made our way to our seats, just in time to see the band finish up:
And then the CATS start to take the field!!!!
|I love me all that purple!|
First half went by way too fast. So fast I forgot to take any pictures. But never fear! Half time is here!
|No one cares about chew, but you. Ha, I'm a rhymer!|
We got back into the game to finish up the last half. And ohhhhhh, what a half it was.
I believe this was the score after the 3rd overtime. Yes, THIRD! There were 4 in total.
We finally pulled it off at a score of 53-50!!!
My throat was sooo raw from screaming that I could hardly drink a beer. But I muscled through, of course. I bet I screamed for 2 hours. For. Realz. Like sucked up all the air around me and proceeded to scream every last puff of it out before I sucked up air again and screamed bloody murder. It was brutal. Straight up brutal. But we won! And now we're at 8-2! I'm so proud of my WildKitties!!!
Oh, Jordan and I also figured out that 1-2 hours of lung exhaustion is like burning 834 calories. There's an app for that. Well, not yet, but we're coming up with one. Which completely justified the 30 pack that we nearly polished off during this weekend extravaganza. We were so tired but yet so amped up with adrenaline I felt like a jack rabbit on crack.
Wanna know what it's like to come down from such an amped up high?? Murder. Pure murder. We somehow found our way home and after almost mowing down 2 large pizza's, we were done. D.O.N.E. All around Done-dee.
All and all it was a freaking fantastic weekend! Good fun. Great friends. Glorious memories!
Thanks John and Lori for letting Jordan and I invade your humble abode! (And almost sneaking Porter out of your house to Wichita!)
Now! Go over HERE! Read Jordan's post-toasty! You won't regret it!
And don't forget to comment on who you think should win the blog off!!!!
Go! Go! Go!!