closet redneck

Valentines Day morning was schnoggy. Flowers, candy, cards and jammy pants.

First stop of our day was Best Buy for our group present: Another box-set volume of MST3K. Given the schmoopiness of the day and thanks to some deft merchandizing, we wound up impulse buying the Chicago Greatest Hits set. The rest of the day’s commute would be spent sopped in 70s and 80’s saccharine. Chad and I fiercely debated Pre and Post Peter Cetera Chicago.

Next Stop? What else would a band of faux-butch, random-adventure-seeking homos do? – Go to a monster truck rally… of course.

Thanks to connections at his work, Chad scored us tickets as well as VIP pre-rally pit-passes to go down on the field and get up close and personal with the monsters themselves.

The sports dome’s floor was covered in what had to have been a few metric tons of dirt, a couple of hundred wide-eyed fans and enough testosterone to make anyone sprout facial hair.

The monster-truck circuit is wrapped with a pageantry akin to Professional Wrestling. The “celebrity trucks” were all on display and winding from them were huge lines of people waiting for autographs from the driver and crew.

We strolled around and took the whole spectacle in… The freakishly scaled vehicles, the big busted team bimbos and the excruciatingly woofy onlookers drooling on both.

Now we’re all honestly not into that sort of thing – but you catch yourself as you’re standing at the foot of a house-sized truck grunting and giggling a little on the inside and saying.. “hehehe… cool.”

We didn’t stay for the event itself – our random-odd-experience fix was satiated.

Stopped by JJ’s to rendezvous with Dr. Steve who was sweetheart-less since Leah is out of town on business. Had a couple of beers and he followed us home for MST3K, chiropractic adjustments and brats.

Great day! Very not blog worthy.