I’ve just returned from a wild party, and I have to say, anything bad you’ve ever heard about a motorcycle crowd is probably…only mildly exaggerated.   Heh heh.

I’ve never before witnessed a pissing contest with actual judges and scientifically calibrated repository devices.  I don’t know who won.  I didn’t enter, because there’s a trick to having enough in the bladder for a sufficient entry, vs. having to go so bad that you can’t afford to wait in the contestant line.  Tips for newbies:  If you miss the container, ya’ll, it doesn’t count.  Aim is everything.

There was also a “tittie contest”  and despite it being about 56 degrees and pouring rain, plenty of girls took the top off for their chance at a $500 prize.  ( Hell, that’s $250 each one…not bad pay!)  Those who lacked the rack, entered the g-string contest instead.  

There was also a burn-out contest for those who wanted to see how long they could smoke a tire before it blew.  Yeehaaw!

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