You can pretty much count on one hand the number of times I've posted in the last 12 months. The logical person would assume thereby that I would not be attending the year's TequilaCon gathering.
WRONG.
Logic has nothing to do with it. Apparently neither does pre-planning since I wasn't even aware I was going until Thursday night.
But then Dave said if I'd come he'd let me sleep in his bunk bed and well...let's face it...who wouldn't take that deal? Plus he kept offering me popsicles, but I'm not sure what that was about.
So now I'm sitting in the Albuquerque Airport Sunport (don't ask) attempting to recall the best party I've ever crashed.
Highlights:
- Jenny being so surprised at my arrival that she punched Vahid in the kidney*
- Black Dragon Margaritas (it's like Jesus finally heard me and created a 30 proof Mike's Hard Lemonade...and with "Dragon" in the name, no one will ever mock my pansy drinking status again!)
- Vahid's black cowboy hat that radiated ultra-sex (yes, ultra-sex).
- Brandon's cowboy vest that he tried to convince everyone he didn't bring from home (The truth will set you free).
- Custom TC'09 tequila bottles (courtesy of Dave and Vahid)
- Discussing the dangers facing EMS workers in the Bronx with NYC Watchdog(who said this conference wasn't educational?).
- The DJ at the Catamount (Dance free, little bird...dance free)
- Meeting Scott (who according to comrade Brandon (and I quote) "had nothing to do with me starting a blog and who is a filthy capitalist. MOTHERLAND!")
P.S. Thank you also to Santa Fe. Unlike my previous assumption, you are not like a broke-ass version of Arizona.
*I failed anatomy - it could have been his pancreas...or his arm
