More fun with Brad

As mentioned in my first post, I have a buddy named Brad who is, well, just like me. He’s sarcastic, likes to have a good time (sometimes at the expense of others), and can come off like a complete ass. He, like me, is also a pretty good dude, and will pretty much take the shirt off his back to help one of his buddies out. He’s bailed me out of many situations, and because he’s a very successful Fort Collins Realtor, has the money to take me golfing, out to lunch, pay for limos. You name it, he’s done it.

I’ve often told Brad about my baseball playing days in college, where I would¬†light shoes on fire in the dugout, hide bags of dog crap in the bullpen so the pitchers were covering their noses when they were sitting on the bullpen bench, and messing with our hitting coach in any way possible.

Brad and I were golfing with my buddy, Troy, the other day when Brad decided to take matters into his own hands, affixing a large piece of athletic tape to Troy’s golf shoe while I was having a candid conversation with Troy in our golf cart (as a distraction, of course).

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Here’s the Skinny

What’s up peeps. My name’s Freddy, and as my bio says, I’m a bit of a sarcastic dude. A bit is actually an understatement, so if you’re on this blog, and you don’t like what I’m saying, then, well, that’s your problem.

Some would call me rude, but I just like to get a rise out of people by chiding them a bit. Take my good buddy Brad, who I play golf with a couple times a week. We were about 10 holes into our round last Tuesday when I decided to pull the good ole exploding golf ball trick on him. You know, it looks kind of like the video below…

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Testing the Waters on July 4th weekend

This weekend I got a special treat. One of my buddies invited me to spend the weekend with him and a few of his buddies at his condo in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. For one, I had never been to Steamboat, but two, there was only one person that I knew that was going to be on the trip. Thankfully Nathan is the roughly the same person that I am, very sarcastic and likes to have a good time, sometimes at the expense of others.

When I got to the condo on Friday at about 4pm, everyone was there, and to my pleasure, they all had brought a bunch of fireworks with them. Not your average sparklers either, the haul was decorated with mortars, bottle rockets, roman candles, and too many other fun concoctions that would be blown to smithereens by the end of the weekend.

By the time that everyone was nice a liquored up on Friday night, we were playing a ripe old game of A-hole at the kitchen table. Since I’ve been called an A-hole a few times in my life, this is just the game for me, and I think a great game to meet new friends and see who can take a little, or a lot of ribbing.

Nathan’s buddies, Carl and Hank, two dudes from Detroit, were game for a little fun, so we were throwing F-bombs back and forth at each other, but they recognized that it was all in good fun, so we could let loose while downing beer after beer.

When it came my turn to make new rules, I would go for the gusto, and make sure that everyone was getting their money’s worth when they broke a rule. For example, whenever someone called someone else by their first name, they had to take a drink. But whenever someone called someone else by their last name, they had to take a shot of milk. Yes, a shot of milk. Cue Ron Burgundy (Milk was a bad choice picture!).

Image result for ron burgundy milk was a bad choice (courtesy

Clearly, Milk does not go very well with a lot of alcohol, so my obvious goal was to get my new buddies throwing up a bit more so I could, for one, make fun of them, and number two, they would be around to drink longer into the night.

After playing my favorite drinking game for about three hours, two of Nathan’s friends had puked, and we were ready to go downtown where there were a ton of people and live music a the bars.

We chose to hit up Carl’s Tavern, which was close to the Yampa River, and has a great drink menu to go along with fantastic scenery of the female variety, which a few of us were strongly hoping for.

At the end of the night, after we closed down the bar at Carl’s, we went back to the Condo, where there was drunken firework shenanigans, something that fortunately ended well without any limbs or digits being blown off. Fireworks and Alcohol are probably not the two best choices to put together, but not every weekend is July 4th weekend. Happy Birthday America!

Next time, more fun with my buddy Brad, who was the topic of another post found here.

Until next time, see you soon at!

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