Dude Barn part-tay

The other night I went to my first dude barn party. Due to my hectic schedule (and general lameness) I missed all the prior festivities so this one had a lot to live up to. Rumor was these parties got out of hand — cake in the ceiling fan, burning shoes and other debauchery. I even secured myself a designated driver in the hopes of getting “sketchy.”

I’ll be honest. This Dude Barn fiasco was a little on the lame side. Granted I left at 11:30, but the promised rap act did not perform and instead there was a DJ. (And no one comes to a dude barn party to dance. ) The party started out with a bunch of dudes ripping the mini, and everyone standing around watching until that got shut down. I blame my latest squatter Nate for the fact that I was drinking Budweiser. But because I always think things are lame, I asked a few other people to make sure I wasn’t being unnecessarily salty. They agreed.  Honestly, I wasn’t even going to blog about it but George totally challenged me and here it is.

Now the dude barn dudes will probably hate me and I will lose skating priviledges. I will be 86’ed forever. So I am going to conclude this by saying that it was clearly a fluke thing and the next party will be epic! Either that or this was typical and everyone has been lying to me all along. Damn, there I go being salty again.

I totally sponsor Ben.

I was having trouble getting the timing right with my point and shoot, but i totally nailed the drop in!

Designated drivers.