Boots to No Boots...Music, Tequila and Epileptic Dancing

The evening started out with boots...

These boots. 


Then there came music...

By these guys who totally rock (click the picture if you don't believe me.  They're awesome!)  Not only do they put on a fabuous performance, they're fun to look at too.   No need for jealousy guys, they're married and good boys (damnit!).

I can't be too sure, but when I saw this picture, I figured it was one of my girlfriends telling me to look away, roll my tongue back in my mouth and wipe the drool from my face.  Ok maybe not, but I'm still a little puzzled by the head molesting I was receiving and the fact that I wasn't aware it was going on until I saw the pictures.

Then came the beer...and TEQUILA!!!

Now that the pump was primed, the party was getting started.  Friends and I swarmed the dance floor to sway and sing along to the music and enjoy the fantastic show put on by the D.B. Bryant Band.  Any time these guys come to town it's a party and a half.  During slow songs, the girls and I shook and swayed like we were professional seductresses; during the fast ones we were partying like rock stars.   (Of course we were drinking tequila and probably looked more like convulsing epileptics or night of the living dead zombies, but this is my blog so I'm gonna tell it my way!)

We continued this pattern well into the morning hours until the establishment closed and the band and several of us moved to a nearby location to continue the party elsewhere.  We were now honored by the playings of another local band in addition to D.B. Bryant Band, so there was no end in site to this fabulous, tequila-filled night. Unfortunately, my boots could not hang.  They wimped out on me and DEMANDED to be given a break from my feet.

Poor Boots.  Tired and looking for a place to rest.
 I kept them up way past their bedtime.

Wearing only my socks, the party continued...3 a.m....4 a.m....oh damn.  Now approaching the daylight hours, my feet are ready for bed too.  A lap will have to do. 

Holy shit on a shingle...look at these nasty socks!!!  I definitely need to rethink white socks when I'm wearing my lightweight boots that can't hang through the night with me (cause it wasn't that my feet were killing me or anything). I wonder if he'd have still had his hand on my foot had he actually seen the bottom of these disgusting, bar room floor germ infested, disease carrying socks?  

I finally did get my boots and my feet home to bed, but barely before the sun rose to greet the day.  They have recovered and are looking forward to the next time our friends make it back to town.  For all of you who were invited, yet didn't make it...sucks to be you!

And to Little Love, the woman with the camera that memorialized all these moments...Thank You!