Are you surprised to see a picture of me like this? Probably not, but lets rewind about 6 hours prior to this being taken. Another coach that I work with decided to do a bicycle bar in Downtown Boise. If you’ve been on a bicycle bar, you know how much of a dangerously good time they are so with no hesitation I accept the offer and start mentally and physically preparing. My body isn’t what it once was in college, but I plan to put on a game day performance like I was still in the prime of my career.
Game day comes around and it just so happens to be on a Sunday. Of course I must start it like any other Sunday. I wake up at about 10:30am, place my bets (all winners of course), and make my way upstairs to the fridge to crack a delicious Bud Light. Like any seasoned veteran, I prep my body for game day and make a manmosa aka a white trash blue moon. If you are unaware of this drink, it’s a bud light with a sprinkle of orange juice for calcium and nutrition and shit so that my body ready for peak performance. I also make myself a sandwich to have a little coating for the tummy to soak up the amount of booze my body is about to intake, professional move.
Now I get to the bicycle bar and only know 4 people, the birthday boy, his girlfriend, my boss, and his wife. the rest of the people were all strangers and what’s the best way to get to know strangers? Immediately break the ice with tall boy shotguns. Boom, the bar is off to a hot start. The operator gives us her instructions and says play that music and start peddling. Unlike the previous two I have been on, this bike bar actually requires you to pedal in order for it to move. I enjoyed the electric version a lot more cause I didn’t have to embarrass the rest of the group with my D2 conditioning and leg strength. Then I hear, blasting over the speakers, “Thats why I fucked your bitch, you fat motherfucker,” and I immediately got fired up and pedaled my life away… for all of 30 seconds. The adrenaline wore off rather quickly, and I now realized I am, in fact, that fat motherfucker. My legs were burning and turned into noodles right away. I couldn’t even drink my beer cause I was so out of breath. Somehow I fought through that adversity, like any seasoned veteran would.
We stopped at the first bar and immediately I felt at home with these people. 2 of the guys ran into the bathroom to pull trigger cause they pregamed to hard (rookies), and the rest of us all ordered tequila shots, mmmmm. Over the next three hours I proceed to crush most of the 12 pack of tall boys that I brought with me while continuously taking tequila shots and even threw in a Jager bomb at the bars to spice things up a little. After our time on the bike was over, only about three of us were still in the game because we are professional drinkers, and the game wasn’t over yet. From here, I don’t remember much of the rest of the night but I showed back up to my house lookin like this:
The rest of this story was told to me cause I don’t have a single memory of this. Also take into consideration it’s only about 7-8pm. Callie said everyone is next door at her families house watching the game and we should head over. We walk out the door and I say “Wow I really have to pee,” to which Callie responds, “Ok, go back in and use my bathroom or you can use the one next door.” Im guessing sometime in the middle of that sentence, I tune her out, like I do to most women when they are making rational and logical statements. Can you believe I’m still single? Anyways, She was walking away from me towards the other house and I guess I stopped, turned to my left, unzipped my pants and just started peeing in my new front lawn for the world to see. Again, it’s only about 7 or 8 o’clock, people were defiantly still up. One peak outside or unfortunate dog walking route would lead them to seeing said picture at the top of the blog. The rest of the night comprised of me slamming opening the sliding door into her families house while drunkenly slurring “HEY EVERYBODY (insert my drunken laugh),” telling the same 2 stories over and over again, and Callie bringing me pizza slices. I guess that was just my way of saying hello to the neighbors and thanks for having me in your neighborhood.
Stories of the Whispering Jew 