And now, without further ado...The Redneck Olympics
Which will by far not be nearly as entertaining b/c I put that thing up last week in hopes that I would get to update on vacation and piqued everyone's interest. So, for that, I am sorry, but there were some funny events that took place, so read on if you wish.

First, let me say that this 'Redneck Olympics' was the most yuppified one I have ever been to. (OK, it was the only one I have ever been to, but I feel certain if I attended others I would still feel the same way.) My sister and my brother-in-law went all out for this annual event. Many games were available for competition, such as cornhole/cornholio, (otherwise known as bean bag toss and apparently baggo) darts, horseshoes and seed spitting. There was also a lot of drinking, but you couldn't win any prizes for that, unfortunately.

I only competed in two events, horseshoes and darts. The most horrible of which was horseshoes. I say this because the night before the big showdown, I was practicing (read: learning to play) with my roommate Miss C. who had accompanied me down to Tennessee for this momentous occasion. It was not a pretty sight. At least from my perspective. Miss C picked it up fairly well. I, on the other hand, was having some problems. See, I couldn't seem to get the release right. I would either let go of the horseshoe way too early and it would pretty much fly straight in front of me for about 3 feet before it hit the ground and began rolling down the hill and I would have to chase it or my other favorite, when I would release the shoe too late and then it would fly straight up in the air before landing halfway between the horseshoe pits causing all bystanders and participants to run as if I were throwing live grenades. A pretty sad state of affairs by all accounts.

When we realized that we would not exactly be horseshoe champions, we headed out to the local country line dancing bar, because really, what would the Redneck Olympics be without a trip to a 'honky tonk' as my sister so wonderfully described it. (Also, that is the first time I have ever visited the website and I pretty much made my point right there.) I will say that whilst at the Joe, we were greeted with such line gems as 'You look like a sure thing' and 'Hot Damn!' Both of which were addressed to my fabulous companion, Miss C. There were also run-ins with the following: 'Married Retard' out trying to pick up other women with his wedding ring STILL ON and 'Dumb Wingman' who actually told me that Canada and the United States were on two different continents. Oh boy. And to think, I went through the same educational system as some of these boys. Wait...what does that say about me?

Ahem, so, if you didn't already realize, we did not find any handsome stud cowboys to go home with, so we went back to my sister's to prepare for the next day's events.

After being awoken very early (read: 9am, which I know, isn't that early) and heading out to purchase Father's Day presents, we returned to a happening shindig and many of the events were underway. After having a few beers, Miss C. and I decided to try our luck again at the horseshoe pit. And before you say anything, no, I did not injure anyone and like many drinking related sports, I actually improved with alcohol. Not only was I not missing the pit entirely, I was actually getting points. Real points! I was quite impressed with myself. However, the alcohol had helped Miss C. improve as well and she totally schooled me by hitting not one, but two ringers. Bitch.

Anyway, realizing that horseshoes were not my thing, I headed over to the darts where I was sure to get my ass kicked seeing as I was playing against two people that I would consider 'dart sharks' if one were to ask me. Not that anyone did. I'm just saying. I did end up getting schooled in darts as well by my sister's friend. So, with the day winding to a close and me winning only a bronze medal* in darts, Miss C. and I decided the only proper course of action would be to head back to the Joe. Where we still didn't meet anyone cool (except for the hot gay French guy--how did you make it to Knoxville exactly?) but had an awesome time dancing and making fools of ourselves. All in all a very good weekend road trip to my hometown.

However, the hungover trip back...that was another story and involved a horrible stop at the O'Charley's in Bristol, right off the interstate. Really barflies across the way? Do you think that there is some sort of soundproof barrier between us? Because there isn't. And also? Miss Bartender? I don't care how many ways you doctor up that Bloody Mary mix, but could you just shut the fuck up about it? Seriously. I am about to vomit in your restaurant. And, to the patrons in the women's bathroom? How hard is it to flush a toilet and not pee on the seat? Cause I'm thinking it isn't as hard as you made it seem. Dumbasses.

*There were actual medal ceremonies complete with a fabulous rendition of the National Anthem as sung by my awesome neice. And it was good y'all. Not the I'm related to her good, but really good! I swear. Medal winners received the following for each event and were presented the items while resting on red, white and blue podiums, the first place of which had a toilet seat placed on top of it (classy!).
Bronze: Medal, flowers, can of PBR
Silver: Medal, flowers, can of CL Silver Bullet
Gold: Medal, flowers, tall boy of the Champagne of Beers, Miller High Life.