Sunday, October 16, 2011

Float and Talk

Sorry about the tardiness of this post friends.  I forgot that I hadn't finished it.  My bad.  Senility is a real biotch. 

July 2011 found us rockin' it old school at the Goosinheimer Haus.... Or maybe it was the Waffle Haus... Oh look, it actually says:

Photo Credit: MKT

Riiiight, anyways:

I joined the infamous Tinsley-Gardner Clam (plus friends) in New Braunfels for a weekend of merrymaking.  MKT found us this fab little German Haus (sleeps roughly 80) and we did it up right.  Bonus track:  We had our very own bar a mere 10 feet up our driveway AND our Haus came equipped with critter pens.  Next time we shall properly prepare by bringing our own livestock.

Riley's is the place. 
Photo Credit:  MKT

Brother Juan and I were the first to arrive on that glorious Friday.  Juanito had found himself earlier in the day held in the lap of a lovely lady at the Yellow Rose Cantina.  Thus he was starry eyed and boozy when I slid my bar stool up next to his at Riley's.  We busied ourselves before the rest of of our crew arrived by exploring the Haus, chatting up the locals, quenching our parched throats and dining on the local fare.  We devoured some bad ass burgers from this place:

Happy Cow indeed.  I'm sad to say we missed
the Belt Sander Races but the fare was fine.

Juanito shares some smooches at the Hog Haus.

Nap time for young Harry Potter.  That's a legit claw foot tub y'all!
Annnnd I'm pretty sure it came with it's own ghost.  *shivers*

Dancing Juan.  Disturbed.
Photo Credit:  STR

Fabulous hair piece.  Frightful dancing.

Haus of Chicken. 
Photo Credit:  MKT

Perhaps a safer option than it's indoor haunted counterpart. 
Photo Credit:  MKT

Always an admirable endeavor. 
Photo Credit:  MKT

No Farm Haus is complete without it's very own windmill.
Photo Credit:  MKT

The neighbors.  Come and knock on our door... 
We'll be waiting for yooouuuu! 
Photo Credit:  MKT

Juanito and I were napping off our early afternoon booze fest when the rest of the gang started trickling in.  We had 12 people total and procured not one single group shot.  Shame.  As with all Tinsley-Gardner shindigs we partook of  the traditional shooting of the shit, washer olympics and general making of merryness.

For this particular trip, chalk art was also in order.

Photo and Art Credit:  MKT

Half Baked Gator illustrated by Gator
Photo Credit: MKT

Squatch Country:  Before the Addition of Genitalia.
Illustrated by JG
Photo Credit:  MKT

All sermons were held here.
Photo Credit:  MKT

Supernova doing work.  He took a time-out from washers
 to model his Crazy Bird.
Photo Credit: STR

Juanito steals a bike.
Photo Credit:  MKT

The Tinsley Clam
Photo Credit:  Dirty D

Do you guys hear that train? 
The Clam in action.

The Roberts
Photo Credit: MKT

Juanito and Supernova at rest between washer matches.
Photo Credit:  MKT

Just a swangin'
Photo Credit:  MKT

Saturday found me and Tiny Tinsley up rather early and ready to get our Crossfit WOD on. 

...Warning:  Mother, just go ahead and quit reading.  Skip on down past this next paragraph.... 

But first we took a death defying bike ride down a logging road.  I was jammin' to my ipod in preparation for the Girl Talk concert later the same day while simultaneously trying NOT to crap my pants every time an eighteen wheeler rolled by.  After our ride Tiny said she couldn't tell if I was singing or screaming out in fear.  I told her it was most certainly a good combination of both.

Post Crossfit WOD our group scampered about the Haus too long on Saturday and we kind of blew our opportunity to float, as it's a very timely endeavor.  Thus we decided to kick it riverside instead.

Horseshoe hotties.
Photo Credit:  SRT 

The Cap at work.
Photo Credit:  SRT

Which was probably for the best.  Floating the river makes for a long day of drinking.  There is simply nothing else to do when you are trapped for hours in an inner tube.  Besides pee on yourself.  True story.   

Lounging riverside allowed for us to chillax, keep an eye on a large number of drunkards and collect stray beers that escaped less fortunate floaters.  There must have been a decent set of rapids above us on the Whitewater Horse Shoe as Dirty D, Supernova and The Cap collected at least a 6 pack of assorted cold beers and a flask of whiskey.  MKT was super pumped about the whiskey and who can blame her?

After we got cleaned up, (read:  We changed in our cars and most definitely flashed some folks.  You're welcome)  we waited in line like forever to secure front row spots for Girl Talk.

Front row, bitches!
Photo Credit:  SRT

Lemme just point out the obvious.  If you are not a person that is fond of drunk people in their pre-20's elbowing and jostling all the good right out of your soul, then you've got no business on the front row of any concert...  Unless it's like a Stevie Nix show or something.  Or Cher...  Celine Dion might also be safe.  But then again, I reckon even those broads have a few hardcore fans of their own.

Can you picture Pops Tinsley elbowing his way to the front of a Fleetwood Mac concert rocking his ZZ Top beard?  Yes.  Yes you can.

Back to my point.  I'm not sure why it takes all of us several repeat front row attempts before it's realized once again that we're all getting too old for this shiz, man.  Not too old to enjoy a really great concert, but much too old to take crap from a drunk baby and then not give that same baby a well deserved black eye. 

The bleachers were made for people like us.  People with short fuses and an innately low tolerance for stupid shenanigans other than our own.

Bright Light Social Hour.
Photo Credit:  SRT 

Spitting image of Jesus rockin' short, shorts.
Photo Credit:  SRT

Greg aka Girl Talk.  He was stoked about being outside in "Austin."
Photo Credit:  SRT

Mesmerized by a glow stick, brought to you by Red Bull and Vodka.
Photo Credit: SRT

Magical confetti drop.
Photo Credit: SRT

This is completely normal. 
Another side effect of living life on the front row.
Photo Credit: SRT

Raptor Dancing, another Tinsley Clam Ritual. 
Inspired by good times and good music.
Photo Credit: MKT

All in all, Float and Talk was another smashing success!

And y'all be sure to stay tuned folks.  Little Tiny Tinsley celebrates her Big 3-0 in less than 10 days and the Tinsley-Gardner Clam will be burning it down at the beach house.

Now then!  If you haven't already done so, join the 21st Century and download your free Girl Talk tunes HERE.

Parting shot:
Incredible detail, Cap.  Incredible.
Photo Credit:  MKT

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Utah Part Two: Baby Girl Gets Married At The Draper Temple

Saturday September 24th 2011 found us all awake at the butt crack of dawn to join G on her Holy Day of Matrimony. 

Naturally Nina, Dub and I were late (Dub's fault and also the theme for our ENTIRE trip) which somehow worked in our favor ;) 

Because we are not members in good standing (or otherwise) with the Church of Latter Day Saints, we immensely enjoyed the magical weather and spectacular views outside the Temple while another family member took over our duties. 

We were supposed to babysit G's utterly darling and super duper rambunctious nephew, as well as her 10 day old baby niece, but alas 'twas not meant to be.  (Dub's fault, just in case you forgot.)  There also may have been a large amount of traffic to blame...  Whatevs.   

You're WELCOME G!  We were so glad we could help!

No, seriously...  So sorry my sister.  Our bad.  (Mostly Dub's)

Brevan the Wonder Boy sure loves his Aunt G!
Photo courtesy of  Missy Allen Photography

Baby Chloe.  Dee-licious in her sweet little dress!
Photo courtesy of  Missy Allen Photography

After running around like a harlot without a jacket to cover my shoulders, pointing and waving at all the beautiful Mormons entering and exiting the Temple and then trying to capture silly pictures with the Golden Trumpeter that MAY or may NOT have been Joseph Smith affixed to the top of the Temple...  G, Hobs and the beautiful fam finally exited the building and the professional photog had her way with us.

Gorgeous, right?  But seriously...
Who is that guy on top of the Draper Temple?
Photo courtesy of    Missy Allen Photography

Oh!  Oh!  MOST IMPORTANTLY I got to drive the BLACK SS CAMARO that Hobs had rented on the behalf of his blushing bride!  (Which immediately made the guy a'ight in my book.  And he may not have actually given me permission to drive his car.  But I drove it when he wasn't looking and enjoyed every single second of it.) 

There were actually a few minutes when I considered hitting the road and never looking back but I decided against it only because it was G's big day...  Had it been any other day this story totally would have ended with "Adios Muchachos" and squealing tires.  Just sayin'.

There also would have been fabulous pictures of me driving that sexy beast of a car captured via Nina's camera, which is also known as 'The Vault' however, she flat refused to take any...  Something about people were watching and I was stealing a car.  Buzz kill. 

But I think we can all imagine the glory...

A little bit of this...
   Yeah, baby!

And a little bit of that...

Any who, after I enjoyed my 60 seconds of delight I turned over the keys and we headed north to Park City for more pictures.  We found ourselves freakishly famished and delighted at the opportunity to look pretty amidst some of the most gorgeous countryside ever seen.

Follow the light my friends! 
The tunnel under the highway that led to the farm.

Photo courtesy of  Missy Allen Photography

The beautiful and resourceful Kami swatted down a hubcap
sized tarantula as it was crawling up Elizabeth's leg. 
...End photo shoot.

I was totaly in looove with Missy Allen, the worlds greatest photog until she suggested that we should all drive back to Salt Lake City to eat lunch, which resides about 40 minutes south of where we were standing in Park City.  At 2 pm.  When our last meal had been eaten at 8 am.  She was afraid we'd get stuck behind traffic from a bike race...  And I was afraid I was going to have to eat the photographer.  Thus her slightly insane/ thoughtful suggestion was politely ignored and we raced the wrong way (my bad) toward Squatters Pubs and Beers.  Yuuuuuuuuuuum.

Oh happy glorious day!  Dub came as close as I've ever seen him to an actual melt down before we arrived at the restaurant.  He stubbornly refused to eat a protein bar based on his account that the protein bar in question tasted just like a roofing shingle.  A roofing shingle?  Really?  But we all survived, the fab photog included and then we raced our separate ways back to SLC for speed naps. 

After speed naps we performed an abbreviated version of our beautification routine and joined G and Hobs at their spectacular wedding reception.

Photo courtesy of  Missy Allen Photography

Photo courtesy of  Missy Allen Photography

Photo courtesy of  Missy Allen Photography

The reception was hosted by Hobs' gorgeous Aunt and her lovely family.  It was truly paradise.  I could not get over how amazing the grass was!  Gardens?  What gardens?  I was too busy rubbing my face on the oh, so sweet and amazingly green grass to notice any gardens.   

Carpet or grass?  You be the judge.
Photo courtesy of  Missy Allen Photography

One of the highlights of the reception, besides catching up with old friends and visiting with all the wonderful new friends we made over the weekend, was the photo booth.  Just in case you were wondering...  This is how sobber people have fun y'all ;)  Although by the look of those cayuuute boys... I'm not sure everyone was sobber.  I knew they were holding out on us!

Fab, fab family!

Blame it on the punch.

Cutest Sister and Brother in Law ever.

And a SMOOCH for Papa G.

All photo booth photos are courtesy of Jim Beam and Missy Allen Photography

Oops!  I meant Jen Dean and Missy Allen.

Sadly I knew my fantasy weekend had come to an end when my pilot announced on my return flight, "Welcome to Texas Folks.  It's still hot and dry without any chance of rain, just in case you were wondering."  

When the shuttle bus driver gave us an honest to God, "Welcome home y'all," a little tear escaped from my eye.  

I realized that a combination of our never ending Texas heat and a bit of starvation makes me crankier than a momma mongoose at feeding time.  And yahoos that talk too loudly, among other things...

So, until we meet again...  Au revoire my lovelies and CONGRATULATIONS!

Photo courtesy of  Missy Allen Photography

Photo courtesy of  Missy Allen Photography