Last weekend was probably one of the more insane weekends I’ve experienced in a while. IF3 was good, but some fucked shit happened. Red Bull/Poorboyz/Bula in NYC was on a whole new level. I saw two of my best friends for the first time in years; Margaret after 3 and Brian after 7. That’s a long time, but they still hold it down like champions.
The plan was to get up early on Saturday and cruise the drive of doom. 8 hours from Burlington to Stratton to Saratoga to NYC. I’m glad Google Maps is terrible with time estimates. It ended up being about 5 1/2 hours and I didn’t need to go into the city.
Margaret, Brian, and I rolled into Mt Kisko 7 minutes before the train was leaving. Instead of rushing, we walked to the station and grabbed the next train. What’s the best part about the NYC trains? You can drink on them! What’s the worst part about drinking on the trains? You miss the train you were suppose to get and Margaret gets pissed. After we gave her a beer and some pizza, she was a happy camper again.
We also decided that our one goal was to convince everyone at the party that Margaret was a pro big mountain skier. How successful were we? Keep reading.
Before getting on the train, Brian made one of the greatest discoveries known to man. Don’t pull the last beer out of the 6 pack. Use the plastic as a leash. Not only do you not have to hold the beer, but you’re saving dolphins as well. When you’ve finished, recycle the can. That’s 3 birds with one stone. If you’re really good, you can pull some crazy Chris Angel deal and trick a crackhead into thinking your a magician.
40 minutes later, the train rolled into Grand Central, jumped in the cab, and bounced. Met a cool cabbie named Paul. Well, we thought he was cool. He rolled right past our building, went down 3 blocks, turned around, and dropped us off 2 blocks from where we were going. Way to tell us we were at the right spot, Paul!
The rest of the night was just crazy. We rolled 14 deep, rocking hoodies, jeans, and sneakers. NYC rolls in dresses, button downs, and penny loafers. That’s cute. Ya guys are all scenesters who wear tight snow pants.
Rogge, Class, and I were the only ones screaming for the movie. Didn’t matter though. Everytime I see Reasons, I’m still thrilled. Not much crazy happened during the movie. Some hot chick was standing next to Brian. I tapped him on the arm, said turn to your right and start talking. He did and busted out a Facebook friend move. Classic buddy!
It definitely beat my STFU move 15 minutes later, but not by much. I saw an open chair and sat down. Standing sucks. The girl next to me says, sorry, my b/f’s sitting there. Ignored her and said do you ski? That turned into a 15 min conversation even after he came back. Don’t you feel dumb, standing there with 2 drinks while I’m talking to your g/f.
The only pain in the ass were the two guys Red Bull hired. If you see two skinny guys wearing ‘I like girls who like girls’ t-shirts anywhere…and I mean anywhere…kick them in the balls. It might be one of those two guys, but either way, no one should be allowed to reproduce if they wear a shirt that says that. Props to Rogge for getting one of them kicked out for acting like a dick.
]By some amazing luck, Anthony, your_name_here, and I got lost between Red Bull Space and the after party bar. No one has any clue how it happened, but it did. Did we go searching immediately? No! Impromptu freestyle walking competition. I guess Anthony woke up with scratches on his shin. I had the same problem at IF3.
Not so smart move…we had an iPhone, but no one thought to get the address of the bar and follow the directions. Instead, I ran around asking people if they knew where the street was. Small town’s are nothing like big cities. I’d walk past strangers in Burlington and they’re more than happy to say hi. Do it in Boston and they pretend to be on the phone. You’re not talking into your phone…I know you’re anti-social! Same thing with NYC, but they think you’re looking for spare change.
Finally, we got to the after party. I gave my camera away and woke up with 258 of the most amazing pics I’ve ever taken at a party. I learned a few things. Margaret wears sunglasses at night. People spill beer all over Cody. Ed looks like Neo from the Matrix. Everyone flips off the camera. The end.
The after party ran for a few hours, but felt like 30 minutes. I don’t remember how many new people I met. I really can’t count that high. It was epic. The cab ride home…not so much.
Paul wasn’t around to drive us back to Grand Central. He probably couldn’t find us if we gave him a GPS anyway. Props to Katrina and the soon to fall asleep, Ben, for getting us on the last train out. Ben and someone else grabbed a bunch of sausage sammiches before we got on. Somehow, one ended up with me. Talk about a disaster. The bun was too small for the sausage (that’s what she said) and the thing shot grease everywhere. I think I pawned it off on Amanda because Margaret was asleep.
The highlight of Grand Central had to be the drunk guy who tried to fight Brian. Brian asked the guy if he knew where he could get a cheeseburger. Are you calling me fat!? I think the cops dragged his drunk ass away.
When we got on the train, Brian spotted 3 chicks and we sat down. One of them was into it, another was too busy with her phone, and another was trying to get us to leave. I don’t remember what debbie downer said, but I didn’t like it. No worries. She left after I told her that her makeup looked like she did it with Wal-Mart spray paint. She left…the other two stayed. Booya!
This brings up Margaret as a big mountain skier. How’d we do? We forgot about it. She signed Brian’s arm though. Someone’s cool now!
I had enough of it after a while. I had friends and a sausage sammich to down. I sat down in between Margaret and Amanda. Margaret fell asleep on the ride home. Ben did too, but Katrina covered him in Bula stickers. BTW, if you’re on the sidewalk and see 10 Bula stickers on the sidewalk, it wasn’t me.
Long story short, we made it home on the last train. Perfection! Amanda thought Ed got lost in the woods. Don’t worry. He didn’t. He went off to help a nice old man find his lost pet in the back of his windowless van. The guy seemed friendly enough.
After rocking out my queen size air mattress, I woke up the next day with nasty shakes. Free Red Bull will do that to anyone. I don’t know how many I had. I know I took it easy though because the trip home was painful. We drove 90 miles on some crazy back road/highway back to the Albany Airport so Brian could fly back to Mississippi. After dropping Margaret off, I barely made it the 2 hour drive back to Burlington without needing to pull over and sleep.
I got home around 5 that Sunday, made some food, and slept from 6 pm til 6 am the next morning. Refreshed, feeling good, and ready to rock.
The plan was to get up early on Saturday and cruise the drive of doom. 8 hours from Burlington to Stratton to Saratoga to NYC. I’m glad Google Maps is terrible with time estimates. It ended up being about 5 1/2 hours and I didn’t need to go into the city.
Margaret, Brian, and I rolled into Mt Kisko 7 minutes before the train was leaving. Instead of rushing, we walked to the station and grabbed the next train. What’s the best part about the NYC trains? You can drink on them! What’s the worst part about drinking on the trains? You miss the train you were suppose to get and Margaret gets pissed. After we gave her a beer and some pizza, she was a happy camper again.
We also decided that our one goal was to convince everyone at the party that Margaret was a pro big mountain skier. How successful were we? Keep reading.
Before getting on the train, Brian made one of the greatest discoveries known to man. Don’t pull the last beer out of the 6 pack. Use the plastic as a leash. Not only do you not have to hold the beer, but you’re saving dolphins as well. When you’ve finished, recycle the can. That’s 3 birds with one stone. If you’re really good, you can pull some crazy Chris Angel deal and trick a crackhead into thinking your a magician.
40 minutes later, the train rolled into Grand Central, jumped in the cab, and bounced. Met a cool cabbie named Paul. Well, we thought he was cool. He rolled right past our building, went down 3 blocks, turned around, and dropped us off 2 blocks from where we were going. Way to tell us we were at the right spot, Paul!
The rest of the night was just crazy. We rolled 14 deep, rocking hoodies, jeans, and sneakers. NYC rolls in dresses, button downs, and penny loafers. That’s cute. Ya guys are all scenesters who wear tight snow pants.
Rogge, Class, and I were the only ones screaming for the movie. Didn’t matter though. Everytime I see Reasons, I’m still thrilled. Not much crazy happened during the movie. Some hot chick was standing next to Brian. I tapped him on the arm, said turn to your right and start talking. He did and busted out a Facebook friend move. Classic buddy!
It definitely beat my STFU move 15 minutes later, but not by much. I saw an open chair and sat down. Standing sucks. The girl next to me says, sorry, my b/f’s sitting there. Ignored her and said do you ski? That turned into a 15 min conversation even after he came back. Don’t you feel dumb, standing there with 2 drinks while I’m talking to your g/f.
The only pain in the ass were the two guys Red Bull hired. If you see two skinny guys wearing ‘I like girls who like girls’ t-shirts anywhere…and I mean anywhere…kick them in the balls. It might be one of those two guys, but either way, no one should be allowed to reproduce if they wear a shirt that says that. Props to Rogge for getting one of them kicked out for acting like a dick.
]By some amazing luck, Anthony, your_name_here, and I got lost between Red Bull Space and the after party bar. No one has any clue how it happened, but it did. Did we go searching immediately? No! Impromptu freestyle walking competition. I guess Anthony woke up with scratches on his shin. I had the same problem at IF3.
Not so smart move…we had an iPhone, but no one thought to get the address of the bar and follow the directions. Instead, I ran around asking people if they knew where the street was. Small town’s are nothing like big cities. I’d walk past strangers in Burlington and they’re more than happy to say hi. Do it in Boston and they pretend to be on the phone. You’re not talking into your phone…I know you’re anti-social! Same thing with NYC, but they think you’re looking for spare change.
Finally, we got to the after party. I gave my camera away and woke up with 258 of the most amazing pics I’ve ever taken at a party. I learned a few things. Margaret wears sunglasses at night. People spill beer all over Cody. Ed looks like Neo from the Matrix. Everyone flips off the camera. The end.
The after party ran for a few hours, but felt like 30 minutes. I don’t remember how many new people I met. I really can’t count that high. It was epic. The cab ride home…not so much.
Paul wasn’t around to drive us back to Grand Central. He probably couldn’t find us if we gave him a GPS anyway. Props to Katrina and the soon to fall asleep, Ben, for getting us on the last train out. Ben and someone else grabbed a bunch of sausage sammiches before we got on. Somehow, one ended up with me. Talk about a disaster. The bun was too small for the sausage (that’s what she said) and the thing shot grease everywhere. I think I pawned it off on Amanda because Margaret was asleep.
The highlight of Grand Central had to be the drunk guy who tried to fight Brian. Brian asked the guy if he knew where he could get a cheeseburger. Are you calling me fat!? I think the cops dragged his drunk ass away.
When we got on the train, Brian spotted 3 chicks and we sat down. One of them was into it, another was too busy with her phone, and another was trying to get us to leave. I don’t remember what debbie downer said, but I didn’t like it. No worries. She left after I told her that her makeup looked like she did it with Wal-Mart spray paint. She left…the other two stayed. Booya!
This brings up Margaret as a big mountain skier. How’d we do? We forgot about it. She signed Brian’s arm though. Someone’s cool now!
I had enough of it after a while. I had friends and a sausage sammich to down. I sat down in between Margaret and Amanda. Margaret fell asleep on the ride home. Ben did too, but Katrina covered him in Bula stickers. BTW, if you’re on the sidewalk and see 10 Bula stickers on the sidewalk, it wasn’t me.
Long story short, we made it home on the last train. Perfection! Amanda thought Ed got lost in the woods. Don’t worry. He didn’t. He went off to help a nice old man find his lost pet in the back of his windowless van. The guy seemed friendly enough.
After rocking out my queen size air mattress, I woke up the next day with nasty shakes. Free Red Bull will do that to anyone. I don’t know how many I had. I know I took it easy though because the trip home was painful. We drove 90 miles on some crazy back road/highway back to the Albany Airport so Brian could fly back to Mississippi. After dropping Margaret off, I barely made it the 2 hour drive back to Burlington without needing to pull over and sleep.
I got home around 5 that Sunday, made some food, and slept from 6 pm til 6 am the next morning. Refreshed, feeling good, and ready to rock.
