Chapter Two of my Wookstock V Chronicles. Figuring this will consist
mainly of Saturday's events. Hard to work on this stuff when "Blair's Witch"
stuff is on TV.
Soooo...we wake up on Saturday, baking in the tents.Ugh. It was just too much.
Killin' us I tell ya. But we survived. And yet somehow the 135 degree weather in
my tent didn't stop the 50 or so mosquitos from finding my tent as being THE place
to be. WTF? Incredible I tell you. And oddly enough I don't think I had one bite
on me. Maybe they picked my tent because of the security system Sam and Wes had in
their "tent". This thing was a mansion. The Taj Mahal if you will. You
could literaly stand up in that thing. Bricking might have parked the Neon in there
one night to keep the birds from relieving themselves on the car. This thing was
huge! So we woke up and started our beer bowling games. Oh yeah, some people call
it pong, others beer pong, whatever. Those of you who know what it is, good. If not,
learn it. It is a staple in the ways of life in the Wookstock crew. Anyway...we bowled.
We watched Kenny take a file to a half ton chunk of rock. Couldn't figure out what
he was doing, but it was fun. Bowl some, babble some, try and figure out what he
was doing. We babbled. We showered. As we did this and that, Uncle Ken came up with
the most incredible omelettes ever made in mankind. I'm not sure if I want to give
away his recipe or such. I mean, this was some good grub. Everyone was raving about
it. Wow...I'm drooling just thinking about it. Good googly...
The tiny little rock...what's he gonna do with
it?
As I mentioned in the first chapter, Gibby arrived with his
people. The lean-to was set up and we all babbled. Someone
asked where I got my name and since he was the eldest member
there from CMU, I made him tell. Yeah...I hear that question
a lot. Anyway, babbling, bowling, drinking, listening to music,
enjoying life. Gibby and the boys took off for a bit and did
whatever (this all brings me to weird questions, but those
will come up later). He also took some pictures that you can
see here. Proctor came (and left
a bunch of lazy sacks in Pittsburgh...if Proctor wants me
to mention their names I will gladly do so on the home page
in giant letters...dorks)(Oh yeah, they're my brothers too).
A bit later, my relatives showed up. Heh heh...what better way to show family
what a great addition you are to society by standing around in your boxers and throwing
a ping pong ball back and forth into cups of beer talking trash? Yup, I'm good. And
my friends are good. Like I said, Wookstock is a time when the guard comes down and
you act to your most primal instincts. Revolting to some, fun to others. Take it
as it is. I got to see my God Daughter for the first time in many many years (couldn't
be that many I guess since she's still just four). And what a way to make me feel
good. During one of our bowling games my "friends" decided to throw me
in a "creek". As they grab me and carry me all over the place (prickers,
trees, shrubbery) they realize the "creek" is the other way. Finally we
get to the "creek" (I bet you're wondering why I keep putting "creek"
in quotes. . .just simmer down and I'll tell you) and I realize my "friends"
are all idiots. I resist as best I can but to no avail. THUMP!!! Yes, you heard correctly.
Thump. The so called "creek" is a muddy depression, no grass, maybe about
two or three cups of water in it. How these fools could mistake this as a creek is
beyond me. But wow was Elizabeth upset. I had to assure her I was ok after being
thrown in the "creek". After that, we bonded quite well.
The men...the keg...the pong ball...the boxers
In fact, it was because of the creek throwing I had to disrobe from my muddy shirt
and shorts (hey, any excuse to get down to my boxers). The rest of my team (Ravi,
Bricker, Proctor) soon disrobed and we were on our way to bowling dominance. Now
when I say dominance, I do no use this term lightly. We were on fire. Unstoppable
I tell ya. Nobody could beat us. It was said the next day "You guys were incredible.
I mean, just incredible. It only took you 15 shots to sink those 10 pins". Yup,
that's what those poor people on the other teams had to deal with. And hence Team
Testoserone was born. Victory after victory. Men standing in their boxers, drinking
beer, grunting. After every shot was made, the victory dance was done...a ritualistic
enjoining of half-naked men with intertwined arms dancing in a circle grunting like
the Neanderthals we were. Ahhh, pure bliss. And what a way to make a good impression
on the family too, eh? Bowling, grunting, drinking more bottles of Boones (thanks
Ravi, I know we needed four bottles of Boones...but good googly that was some good
tasting stuff at the time). Then my aunt Chris and Ron ordered up the grub. And when
I say grub, I mean grub!!!! We're talking about 35 to 40 square feet of pizza. Whoah,
talk about the lovin'. Maybe we should get half naked more often. Or was it the grunts?
I think those were the key to our massive domination. Kenny mentioned to a female
opponent that maybe they should grunt. In a most matter-of-fact way she states..."I...don't...grunt".
Heh heh. . .
All of this debauchery went on into the wee hours of the night. Team Testoserone
never lost. The music never stopped. The rain started. The rain stopped. The Boones
ran out. The beer flowed. The dancing commenced. No Advil was taken. The tent was
crawled into but this time I didn't wear my funky Puma pants. . .nah. . .just shorts
this time. And a pleasant sleep was to be had. Mmmmm. . .
And we still have all day Sunday. . .another lost ring for me, a trip to the drug
store freaking out the locals, playing in the gorge, saving chipmunks, and (if you've
got kids cover their eyes 'cause I'm about to use a naughty word but it's been determined
that these two characters shall be deemed this new name from then on) the "Two
Little Shits". Stay tuned for more exciting episodes of the Wookstock Chronicles.
Yer just dyin' to know what I'm talking about, aren't you?
And now on to Chapter 3.
Home
| About Us | Products | News
| Affiliates 
