2011 Redneck Christmas Party
Best. Theme. Ever. Everyone embraced the redneck idea like a hillbilly hugging on his wife/sister....
We were so happy to see Uncle Ray, Aunt Lana and Michael come for the party. They were worthy representatives of the Hicks side of the family.
There's Aunt Lana in the red sweater. It looks like Uncle Ray is aiming up to pick her nose while Miss Toni looks on. Easy now, Uncle Ray, snacks are in the Grub Room. Speaking of which...
...new to the Hicks' Pub: The Grub Room. A breathtaking room walled off by blue tarp, resplendent with images of The Rock and Jesus arm-wrestling the Devil. In a word: perfection.
The Mothers of Woodwick were on hand to make sure the children didn't get out of line. Yeah, right. Good luck with that, ladies. Let's see how that works out for you.
Sweet Mike also here to keep his and Toni's Hicks' Pub perfect party participation record pristine.
The Sharpie tattoos were popular with the hayseed crowd. Tom's rockin' his "Sun's Out. Guns Out" tattoos.
Grandpa Frank raises a bottle in celebration of his knocked-up daughter, Patti. (Sniff) So precious.
Well hey, if it isn't Keith Stone! Dude, we were hoping you'd drop by! We have a couple cases of 24 ounce cans of Keystone to get the night rolling. You, my Friend, are a guest of honor.
We had several games set up in the Beer Fort for patrons to enjoy. Here is "Pin the Teeth on the Ho," a backwoods version of "Pin the Tail on the Donkey." The Walmart Christmas panties hanging off the sides are the blindfolds for the game. You can also glimpse the floodlights which illuminated the Shootin' Range. We had beer cans and CDs set up in the woods for folks to shoot with BB and Airsoft guns. Nothin' says party like 24 ouncers and guns.
There's my girls! It seems like only last year they were the prim and proper guests...
...oh how far they've slid. Way to go! Yay, regress!
There's Mr. Westerkamp, rockin' his summer teeth and mullet. Don't worry, ladies, there's lots of him to feast your eyes on. Just you wait and see.
Welcome Wolframs, bungee cord suspenders and all. There was much discussion of whether Laura went out and bought the gardered Christmas stockings or if she already had those in her unmentionables drawer. I know where my money lies.
We won't go into details of what happened in the Grub Room, but...
...clearly they were pleased with their success.
Ahh, the Roses. Let's reflect on their year here...
...last year...
...this summer...their decline was steady indeed.
"Hey, Keith Stone, lookit how cute we are!"
Not to be out-cuted, the Wolframs stepped up to the plate. Note to self: set up a photo booth for next year. That will be awesome.
If I didn't know any better, their matching expressions suggest they're kin.
Hellooooo High Life! Welcome to the party, pal!
There's his wife. Ain't she the adorable multi-tasker, what with her smokin' and breast-feedin' and all? We'll visit with her baby later.
Remember Mr. Westerkamp? There's his wife, Lisa, in the middle. He was bustin' with pride to marry a woman with all her teeth...or teef, as it were.
Well, if it isn't the Louiso Boys? If that isn't a photo full of ornery, I don't know what is.
Look at that expression! OR-NER-Y.
Ornery has an attitude, too. He kindly provided us with a 1-800 number to call if we had a problem with him.
I don't know what Tiff is up to, but it's safe to say that it's no good.
Remember Mrs. High Life's baby? Well, she may be small, but she can hold her own...
The debate on how to properly pose the baby was intense. Creative ideas were exchanged and many poses were tested.
Ultimately, everyone was pleased with the results.
Keith Stone was on-hand to capture the moment. He too, approved.
Meanwhile, out in the Beer Fort, folks were having a good time too.
Harpo was winner of the "Most Authentic Redneck" attire. This was not a stretch for him at all.
Raise a glass if yer a redneck.
What did I learn from the evening? That wearing an exposed G-string is a profitable venture.
And it makes for interesting conversation when the po-po show up.
And once they left, it was back to our regular programming.
See?
Let's take a moment to assess the party thus far: Roses politely chatting amongst themselves? Check. Miss Susie looking cool in her Norwood letter jacket? Check. Hicks imitating a Frankenstein chipmunk fumbling a drink? Check. Baby on the bar still posing with the bottles? Check. All is well.
Then Tiny Tim arrived. Don't let that shit-eating grin fool you. He's a bad influence.
He throws down a beer bong with his lovely wife and partner-in-crime, Ali.
He molests his wife on the stairs. I'm telling you, the boy's trouble.
He does shots with Hicks.
Which led to more shots.
And then the lickin' started...
...and it went on...
...and on...
....and on.
Which led to the dancin'...
...and more dancin'...
...and more dancin'. Rock on, sassy sister. Shake it for the boys.
Meanwhile, the group grope begins!
"Hey look! I laughed so hard, this beer nut shot right out of my nose! Want it?"
"Whachoo lookin' at, Lennertz?"
"Only MY man can go there. See?"
"Wait. Is it possible? Can it be...?"
"Hallelujah! Saint Jon has arrived with the gift of Taco Bell! It's a Christmas miracle!"
And lo, the mother with child did partake of the blessed taco.
And peace, love and joy filled the Pub.
A toast to Saint Jon.
Throughout the evening, Keith Stone continued to work his magic with the ladies.
The promise of reasonably-priced beer was simply too much for the ladies to resist.
Even men are defenseless against the wiles of the great Keith Stone.
"I love you, Keith Stone. I love yer hair, too. Can I have it?"
"Sure."
"Keith Stone. You rock."
"I know."
The following blurry photos, while not in any story form, are worth sharing because they do capture the spirit of the evening. Enjoy.
Honestly, I think this is my favorite shot of the whole evening.
Thanks to everyone who made this evening memorable!