WHAT COULD BE MORE BETTER?!
I was looking forward to this event all week. It my cooped up madness that is unemployment, it is depressing that this is what got me through the week.
Upon arriving at the event, I decided to do a little pre-event drinkage at my buddy's place seeing how it was his birthday. After 5 beers and a rumbling belly later, we decided to walk to the event.
I was all about the food. Being on the steroids and waiting 3 hours (this is a long ass time for me) between my last meal so I could fully enjoy the heaven that was this pork festival I was starving.
You see, when I don't eat I become a bitch. Not in the cute, grumpy "Oh she's just hungry" kind of way. I'm more of the city destroying, fire breathing Godzilla in the Snickers commercial. I felt like I was going to kill someone without some sort of food in my mouth.
This was my mission of the night. Being the shit heads that we are, we didn't take into account that everyone also saved up their meals for the event.
LINES EVERYWHERE.
Goddamnit.
We decided to get our beers first instead and see if this helped the lines shorten up (in our heads this was logical, shut up). As we consumed our first beverage, we walked around the inspect the lines. We're they any shorter?
Nope. Back to the beer tent we go!
We repeated this exact process 3 more times before we were stumbling-idiots and we realized that we ALL really needed food in our alcohol filled bellies and decided on the tent with the shortest wait period.
Being the picky-eater at heart that I am, I had to special order my EIGHT DOLLAR pulled pork sandwich with no toppings- only meat and the bun. Turns out, this is fucking delicious. Mind you, this was only the second time I had ever had pulled pork but in my starving-drunk state, having food in my hand was about all I needed reach foodgasm.
The meat was so juicy and soft, typically this is not the way I normally like my meat (insert boner joke here), but this succulent meat was everything I needed in that moment. Having to wash down the glory that was my first meal, I SOMEHOW managed to finish my, *cough, ninth beer. Boy, it sounds a lot worse when put into writing... whoopsies.
Beer? Why are we drinking beer? This is the Pig and WHISKEY festival for fuck's sake!
Off to the Jack Daniel's tent we go!
Sick of waiting in lines, we all decided to double-fist thinking that we would have drinks for twice as long. No, no. This only caused us to drink twice as fast.
Regular Jack on the right, Honey Jack on the left. Taste buds becoming more and more numb. Annnnnd I was hungry again. Must. Have. Food. Now.
Of course, the shortest line was nachos...why would they even have this as an option? I didn't care. Cosby and I scarffed that plate down like it was the only thing keeping us alive. Although, he did manage to take a very attractive selfie. As you can see, food is my everything:
Needing more to wash down our Nachos... back to the Jack Daniel's tent we go!
Just kidding (or am I?) this drunk-piggie needed to go HOME.
I won't bore with the rest of the night which was filled with deep conversations of the history of Detroit, a drunken-business pitch, a table so full of empty cans we had to move them to the ground, myself being woken up once with french fries being shoved into my mouth and another time with a very large snake slithering around my face....
Pig and Whiskey fest... oh how you don't disappoint.
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