Remember that time our lives were changed by a Minivan?

Clearly this week there was no Monday Morning Brain Fart, nor was there an extensive 24 review, something that I'm sure all of you are fretting about. Well you can stop worrying, because I am OK! I almost wasn't, however, because I spent this past weekend at the mother of all American drunk fests, the Kentucky Derby. I know you're now asking yourself the following: Wait, the Derby is a huge party? I thought it was all classy and shit with the rich people, the fancy dresses and the mint juleps? Well, you'd be right, unless you had tickets to the infield, which is so far beyond epic you have to see it to believe it. You know what that means! PHOTO DIARY! So get in the mood with a little Crazy Train and follow me along my journey.



ROAD TRIP TIME! And what was our vehicle of choice you may be asking?



Boo yah! KIA SEDONA BITCHES. Now I know ya'll are hatin' on the Sedones because it's a Kia, but that's where you're wrong. Not only is it a fine automobile, but it creates memories. Do yourself a favor and buy one. Here is where my road trip photo diary gets off to an inauspicious start, as we began our trip at a gas station in Newark that had a glass box convenience store where you had to pass your money in a shelf, after which they would slide you back your candy and drinks in the same shelf. Dangerous neighborhood perhaps? No picture. We also passed a house completely engulfed in flames in West Virginia. No picture either. Good job Steve.



Finally a picture! I had never been to a Sheetz before, and my oh my, what a magical place. Fresh greasy awesomeness at 3:00 in the morning? YES PLEASE.



Or perhaps some Faygo Creme Soda is more your taste. You know, if you like that sorta thing. Not that that's a bad thing or anything. Totally cool.



It was Free Frappe Friday in Kentucky! Too bad the promotion didn't start until 7:00 AM, and we got there at 6:30... that Joseph can be quite the persuasive boy, however. That Frappe is a large by the way, it just looks really small in the giant's hands.



The Sedones standing strong after a 10 and a half hour, overnight road trip. She was just getting started. We, on the other hand, passed right out.



Aw, what a happy bunch of guys. We're so happy to be at the Derbs. And in each other's loving company.

RCal takes us on a tour of the University of Louisville, where the dumbasses closed the book store and didn't allow us to bust a nut all over their merchandise. And by that I mean buy some, not actually bust on their stuff.



Seaton Hall? Where the hell is that?



Sedones, looking good in the sunshine. What a phenomenal piece of machinery.



A little pregaming on the rooftops of Louisville. Someone should tell that building to keep its bathrooms open to that their bushes do not get violated.



On to Fourth Street Live! A place where you can carry your drink of choice out onto the street or into any random bar. Fun times.



Oh hey! 3 Doors Down is playing on the street! The rednecks love them some 3 Doors Down, lemme tell you. We, however, preferred the bars where we discovered that no matter how drunk a girl is, she can always dance on a bar while maintaining perfect balance. A useful life skill, to be sure.



On to Jimmy Johns! Or Yimmy Yohns, as we prefer to call it. A highly desirable sandwich oasis. I highly recommend it should you stumble across one. The bacon is delightful.



Rims bitch.



Time to pregame for the Derbs! A little Jim Beam and...



... some of Natural's Lightest. Only the choicest beverages for my friends and I.



Nice duck boots.



Oh good, the Department of Erections is attending the Derby, I was worried. Louey Colicchio went through great pains to get this photograph as he jumped out of the Sedones as she sat in traffic, ran down this bus, and avoided the threats of that guy hanging out the bus window, who aside from wanting to charge Louey 4 bucks for the photo probably wanted to charge him 4 bucks for a little something else. Or at least that's what I imagine was going through his head.



And so the pregame begins! In a Louisville staff lot. With no other cars but ourselves. Party!



We got hungry, so Ian decided to call for delivery from Papa John's... which just so happens to be the building you see in front of him. The girl he called was named Andy.

Ian: Can I place an order for delivery please?
Andy: What's your address sir?
Ian: Ummm... what's YOUR address?

She would go on to explain to him that delivery had to made from a car. Ian went on to explain to her that he was going to fight her if she said it would take 45 minutes.



We ended up picking it up ourselves. Pushovers.



Apparently Hobb's ass tastes phenomenal. Ian you're gross. Stop crushing our coolers.



The no hands piss! A time-honored tradition at the Kentucky Derby.



And so we walked to Churchill Downs. They shepherded us peasants who had infield tickets to a separate entrance from the rich people, and along the way we passed a whole bunch of Jesus freaks who told us that A) we're going to hell for drinking, B) we're going to hell for gambling, and C) Santa Claus isn't real. WHAT?!?!??! SHIT!



Out of the tunnel we emerged, like a giraffe extracting himself from the butthole of his mommy. What kind of wonders lay before us?



Chaos. Absolute chaos.



We're at the Derby. Gotta get a Mint Julep. Too bad they SUCK. Mint and whiskey absolutely do not mix. And I LOVE whiskey.



Placing our bets. Ian here is demonstrating how to spend a lot of money on ridiculous bets that have no chance of winning. A fine strategy indeed. Though I shouldn't talk. My horses didn't do shit.



The famous twin spires of Churchill Downs, as seen from the infield. It's a good thing we could see those and not the actual horses from where we were. We went to the Kentucky Derby and saw everything but the Kentucky Derby.



As you may or may not know, it was pouring the entire day of the Derby. This caused the infield to be incredibly muddy, which lead to all of us looking like Louey Colicchio here. What a dashing and handsome young man. Charming too.



Why whatever is a drunk person to do in a muddy field? Mud wrestle of course! Most of it was playful, but shit got SERIOUS when some chick grabbed another by the hair, threw her on the ground, and kicked her in head. EAT IT. Biddies, right? Not pictured in this diary: the Kentucky Derby tradition of running across the tops of the port-a-potties while people throw whole cans and bottles of beer at your face, trying to knock you down. It's the New Jersey of drunk activities.



Here's our muddy and pugilistic friend Jane. You can't see it, but she's bleeding profusely from her leg right now. Her mother would be so proud!



After the Derbs we headed home and washed the 36 pounds of mud we had on us off of us, then headed out for another night at Fourth Street Lie!



Followed of course by another trip to Yimmy Yohns. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.



Sunday morning we got back in the Sedones and bounced out of town at about 10:30 AM. As you can see, Scotty is sad that such an epic weekend has come to an end.



We smelled pretty bad, but I can assure you that after this rest stop, our scent could best be described as sexy.



What is men plural?



Hungry and tired of driving in a hurricane, we decided to go to Taco Bell. Then bring the Taco Bell foodstuffs to Wendy's, where we got more foodstuffs. It was both nutritious and delicious.



Scotty's new creation: A Cheesy Gordita Crunch with Wendy's Chicken Nuggets inside of it. This lead to us deciding that a restaurant where all food comes with chicken nuggets inside of it is a great business venture. Any interested investors out there?



The Sedones - standing strong in the elements.



West Virginia has neat names for its mountains. This is clearly not my picture, however. If it was mine the sky would be completely gray and a monsoon would be happening that made us all fear for our lives.



The. Entire. Way. Home.



And as we hit the home stretch, we decided that a Frappe, though not free, was the correct way to wrap up what was an incredible weekend.

Actually, I just re-read this. This blog sucks. I did it no justice. You gots to see the Derbs for yourself. Now be educated!