Wednesday, April 25, 2012

The Post Secret Road Trip

I need better sleeping habits if I come home from work for lunch and can't keep my eyes open through a half an hour session of Looney Tunes. Those poor sleeping habits are what made me have a skewed R.E.M. schedule for the last four days or so.

For full effect, download that one Kenny Loggins song about Winnie the Pooh that you and I used to listen to at night and fall asleep to. Listen to that throughout the duration of this post.

I do need to catch you up on this past weekend's events. By the way, I have been a real curse word of a blogger this year. Last year I was so dedicated, so religious about my postings. This year my blogging skills are on the same level as Lamar Odom's field goal percentage. But with that being said, I L-worded this past weekend. With a passion.

For all of you first time readers, this past Friday, myself, Chris Caldwell, and Bryan Uhri took an 802 mile road trip to Grand Junction, CO to watch a Post Secret Live event. For those of you who don't know what Post Secret is, do yourself a favor and go to I don't have the time or the energy to spoon-feed you the answer.

Road trips with guys are some of the best times of your life. They are a combination of dirty jokes, red bulls, and hot wings, all saran wrapped with deep thoughts into one another's personal lives and hidden selves. Yes, those were good times as we packed into my Rogue and took off down I-70 East for 5 1/2 hours. Have I mentioned before how that stretch of land is uglier than Khloe Kardashian? Whoa, that's two disses to the Odom family. I need to tone it down.

The trip was good. The food was better. Some hometown hot wing spot was the joint we hit up surrounded by pale ale and dozens of in-bred Broncos' fans.

In-Bred Bronco: "Shouldn't have traded Tebow. BRONCOS RULE!"

Cue four syllable word to confuse the behemoth.

The Post Secret event was a hit. Honestly it brought tears to my eyes as bi-sexuals, schizophrenics, and gorgeous deaf girls stood before a microphone and confessed their hearts out to the audience. My respect for everyone in the auditorium rose every ten minutes as we all sat in the padded chairs and figuratively held hands, all in harmony on the chorus of Kum-Bah-Yah.

For the record, the creator of Post Secret, Frank Warren, has a heart full of gold. I am convinced the man has a place docked in heaven right next to Mother Teresa and John Lennon. The man is incredible. Devoted to a heartfelt cause for no other reason other than his love for humanity and the people that surround him. Walking out of that event, I wanted to get his initials tattooed onto my lower back.

True story.

Overall, it was one of the best road trips that I've had the privilege of enjoying. And I'm sure the other sausages in the car felt the same way as we journeyed home into the night, pulling into our pad just after 3:30 Sunday morning. But it was all worth it. The screwed up sleep schedule, the lack of dietary consistency, the fact that for a split second, I think I had some kind of wet substance coming out of my eyes, all of it made the ride great. And something that I think I might L-word doing again with a member of the opposite sex.

That is, if she doesn't mind my new tramp stamp.

What do you think?


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