My Annual Drunkfest with (SHIRTLESS) Cowboys

Close your eyes. Why? Just DO IT! Are they closed? I can wait....

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Okay, either your eyes are closed or you're an asshole. Wait... if you are reading this, then your eyes aren't closed and you're an asshole, but how can you keep reading if your eyes are closed? Hmm... I may have just screwed myself. Either that, or I subconsciously ONLY want assholes to read this. I'm not sure it really matters. But the POINT is, that I want to visualize what my life is going to be like for the next week (and is also an explanation why I won't be posting anything):

Picture this:
You're in the middle of an empty cornfield, 5,000 feet above sea level, on the Western Plains of Colorado, camping with 10,000 of your favorite country-music loving, shirtless Cowboys, in 100 degree heat, drinking all day and all night, and going to amazing concerts (all within walking distance)... for FOUR DAYS. 

That's what I'm doing... for the 15th year in row. I was waaaay too young when my mom first let me go to Country Jam, and now I'm borderline too old to be wearing a bikini in public, but that doesn't stop me, or anyone else there. That's the great thing about Country Jam... there will always be a woman older, and in worse shape than you strutting around in a bikini that's smaller than yours. It's quite the ego boost.

And the cowboys, did I mention that they are shirtless? There's nothing quite like the sight of a shirtless man walking toward you wearing a cowboy hat, wranglers, shit-kickers and a "nice to meet you ma'am" shit-eating-grin.

It's a wonderful escape from reality, and a place where there are enough stories and memories made to last you all year... until the next Country Jam rolls around.

So here's to cornhole, to Bud Light, to swimming in horse troughs, and cowboys who have lost their shirts!

See you in a week (if I make it back)!