A River Runs Through It...

I made my first trip to float the river this last weekend...and the trip was about as blurry as the river water itself. I've grown up in Texas my whole life and have never once floated the Guadalupe River, which by the way is nut-contracting. Getting in I seriously had to swallow my testicles back down to their rightful place of residence. The whole thing was "spur of the moment," "fuck it, why not" stream of consciousness. I could've stayed and worked AND saved money, but nobody ever accused me of being a genius, and besides, I've never floated the river, so I figured A) I'm not driving, B) We're coming back Saturday night (brilliant idea) C) I can save money and go before it gets too cold and there's still some summer left.

So we spend the night in Waco on Friday night and go to the infamous George's Bar...or should I say the lame-ass George's Bar. Okay this is weird...they're (they being the radio station I work at) playing a Pat Green song right now over the speakers in my office...weird! Anyway's you write one song about a shithole dive restaraunt and it turns into a novelty act. It wasn't that bad, but it's no Hotel California...AHAHAHAHAHAHA....lame.

After jumping on Andry's trampoline and miraculously avoiding paralysis (crack the egg...what a game!)for about an hour we all decide to turn in. By the way, Andry's mom loves Coca-Cola memorabilia. I felt like I was in a museum of Coke artifacts. Very nice lady though...cooks the hell outta some breakfast burritos. Andry, if you ever came to my parent's house you would feel like you were in a Southern Living ad or quite possibly a taxidermy so there's that.

The river was bad-ass! I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone. I mean it's basically a combination of archaic Irish boozing with surf-board mentality all rolled together in one high-rising-yeast-loaf-of-fun! Got drunk...really drunk. Ran into some people from college. Robert, we ran into "scarface" Courtney. She was with some guy who looks like he eats pit bulls for breakfast and then shits them out into compact dumbells for him to work out with...complete with tribal armband tattoo, Abercrombie and Fitch hat, and glasses that Vin Diesel would endorse.

So Fern and I left about 48 beers up at the drop point where we get in the river and remembered it about 2 miles down. Luckily, we convinced some poor kid who was working there over the summer, picking up tubes and sweating his ass off for a ride to the nearest convenience store to rectify the situation. That's where we met Satan herself. This lady would not let us buy beer without 32 forms of ID. I think I even had to show her my taint...

The drive back was amazingly "death free." I called my sister when we got back to the truck to come pick me up and bring me back to Dallas on Sunday, but she wasn't having any of that...maybe because she was SOBER. So I fought and yelled and negotiated with her for my travel arrangements the next day, but she couldn't be swayed. Hung up the phone cussed a little under my breathe about my sister and then I decided that if I was going to kick it, it would be on I35 back to Dallas in a wet bathing suit that was giving me the red-ass. What a way to die!

Luckily for us we made it back in one piece. Sorry to those I missed in Austin...I'll be there for ACL. Sorry to those who missed out on the river...you blow.