Chili Feed Day Hours

Gramma,

They guys taking money at the gate have plenty of time to eat, drink, and screw off.  One of their adult kids is running naked through a nearby field.  He has someone with a video camera documenting his life for him.  I don't know what he's on, but I don't want some of that.  I have enough behavioral issues of my own. 

There is an outdoor shitter, a camper, and a picnic table at the gate.  While Pus Gut was in the shitter, two club members tipped it over so the door was facing the ground.  There sure was a lot of yelling and pounding.  He emerged covered in blue toilet juice.  Pus Gut's new name is Papa Smurf.  Pus Tit and Pus Gut are not amused.  He has no change of clothes.  How stupid are you?  Well then, it is their kid bounding naked through the weeds. 

The local police keep close tabs on the party by driving through the campground several times a day.  They step it up at night and like to make sure the wet t-shirt contest goes off without a hitch.  Other more nefarious bike clubs show up looking for trouble.  They are allowed in for the steep discount of free.  It's just easier that way.  They assess the fun quotient, eat chili, drink beer and leave, all without cracking a smile. 

Mid afternoon is game time, fueled by alcohol, and sweetened by a money pot.  Slow races involve riding your bike to the finish line with someone on the back.  You may not stop or put your feet on the ground.  The field is not flat,  There are gopher mounds and rocks.  The last person wins. 

For the balloon toss, water filled balloons are lobbed over a bar that the bike rolls under.  The person on the back is in charge of lobbing.  Teams go one at a time.  When you miss, you are out.  Nothing quite like a couple of drunk guys on a bike trying to win.  Men don't usually ride bitch at these events, but they are the crowd favorites.  The guy throwing is facing backwards. 

During the weenie bite, a hot dog is suspended from an overhead bar.  The person on the back is supposed to bite off as much as possible.  A lot of wieners meet the face, but not the mouth.  The crowd is jeering and cheering.  It's all fun and games until someone gets an eye is poked out. 

I like to sneak off and get in a beer enhanced nap so I can stay up for the evening stunts.  When I get in the car, the pet store box with the mice inside is chewed open and they are on the loose.  Ugh.  I have to catch the little fuckers before I can sleep.  I took them to their intended destination--Junior's tent.  I am one-upping him for something he has done to me, plus he is fun to fuck with.  He hates mice.