Tag Archives: breckenridge

What’s classier than putting stickers on your nipples? – Breckenridge Brewery (Breckenridge)

1 Sep

After a full day of mountain drinking we decided the best place to wind down would be none other than Breckenridge Brewery. We had heard a lot of good things about this brewery, especially their vanilla porter.

First of all, we’d like to say thanks to our guest boobs of the weekend, Megan, Mandy and Amber for joining us on one of the best weekends ever.

Now that's a handful

Upon arrival we did what any group of five girls would do; casually wait by the bar and wait for someone to get us beer. It worked. After a very unpleasant dealing with the hostess, who was really rude (Although it probably didn’t help that Amber and Lisa said loudly while she was in earshot that she was a bitch. –Julia) and a considerable wait for a table, we were finally seated (Although we had beer, so it was fine).

Our waiter was also pretty short-tempered

He made the mistake of bringing us a single Breckenridge brewery sticker. A small argument ensued about who would get to have the sticker, before we decided it would be much easier to simply ask the waiter for more stickers and save ourselves from a five-woman deep catfight/brawl. When we asked, the waiter rolled his eyes, but at least he brought enough stickers for everyone.

The following photo montage demonstrates what good use of these stickers we made.

I don't know why no one thought of this as a promotional idea yet

Miss Conservativve

But really as inappropriate as it may SEEM to put brewery stickers on your nipples, what better FREE advertising could any establishment want? (And really, as drunk as we were, and how slutty we were dressed, someone was bound to have a nip slip, had we not MacGuyvered ourselves a solution –Julia) .

As the men at the table that we didn’t know/had just met kept changing, it was difficult to keep track, and also really awkward when everyone left the table except for me, Amber, Julia and the man who was to be nicknamed Pasties.

Amber realized that Pasties had a Dale’s Pale Ale can around his neck. She asked if she could have it. Being the nice person that she is, she offered to show him a surprise if he gave it to her.

He said it depended on the surprise. So she flashed him.

Not what he was expecting

Then, we convinced him that he should put stickers on his nipples, too.

And he agreed?...

Us: 1 Breckenridge Hippies with nice teeth: 0

Other highlights of the night included:

  • A rather intense conversation about the perfect nipple (quarter-sized apparently) and the number one reason for guys wanting to put them in their mouths (because “they’re cute”).
  • A secret handshake that was SO secret we forgot it moments after making(obviously to ensure no one else would find it out). All we can remember say is that it involved some sort of high-five and a boob grab of some sort. At this point in the night it’s tough to say whose boobs exactly we were grabbing but they most likely weren’t our own.
  • Our least transient guest of the night, New York also had this, among many other things to add to the conversation. “What do you call 5 Mexican’s drowning?” — “Good News?”

We had our waiter tell us all of the beers on the sampler, then called him back to tell us again, and then finally made him draw a diagram so we could remember.  Based on said diagram, here’s the rundown of the beer ratings as we remember them.

Vanilla Porter: Very Vanilly. Pretty much like ice cream mixed with beer. Fantastic.

4 and a side boob (This beer is to go head to head with the other 4 ranked beers in the ultimate show down of beers to determine the true best 5 boob beer.)

Agave: Tastes like a wheat beer. Smells like tequila.

Julia: “If I wanted to drink tequila I would just drink tequila”

Me: “I’m excited for it”

3 Boobs

Summer: Summery, like a dandelion.

3 Boobs

Avalanche: Initial thought on this beer? “I hope it tastes like a Duchene because he’s a hottie”
Thoughts after drinking this beer? “If I was to lick a hockey player this is what it would taste like.”
A little salty
Julia – 3 boobs
Lisa – 4 boobs

Oatmeal Stout: Tastes the same as all other Oatmeal Stouts
3 boobs

Pale – Spicy Aftertaste.

Julia – 2 Boobs

Lisa –3 Boobs

Buddha – Cloves and Bananas, as usual. Tastes remarkably like Sweaty Betty from Boulder Beer, which is cool, if you’re into that.

2 Boobs

IPA – Very Strong, very intense

3 boobs

After our waiter circled our table about a dozen times, hoping to get us to pay and leave, we finally headed out. We were walking down the street joking about how we could never show our faces in that brewery again after our debaucherous activities, when Amber realized that she left her camera, and that we needed to go back before our waiter discovered it at our table and threw it away based on the tip we left him.

Julia, Amber and I headed back the brewery to retrieve the camera (which we did, with no help from the waiter who was a jerk about it) and realized that we needed a rally vomit if the night was going to continue. So we took a quick detour to the bathroom for a group bulimia session.

Conversation in the bathroom:

Julia: “C’mon Lisa, you can do it! I threw up twice already! Once you do, you’ll feel so much better!”

Me: “I can’t…I tried like six times, but it’s not working…”

This is friendship at its finest.

Overall awards for this brewery:

Least friendly

Brewery visited most drunk

Most number of vagabonds at our table

Most number of people to vomit in one bathroom at a time

Most creative use of stickers

Sadly, this was from a classier time in the evening


It’s a Lady Homosexual Weekend! (Breckenridge Beer Festival)

25 Aug

We decided to kill about 6 birds with drunk stones, and went to the Breckenridge Beer Festival. We were also surprised to find that we have friends that are girls, and convinced 3 of them to go with us. Since we were all staying in one room at the Holiday Inn (at a very cheap price thanks to Mandy’s friend) it was clearly going to end up being a lady homosexual weekend. Or, at least, that’s what a high number of males kept asking.


“We’re all going up to Breck this weekend,”

“Oh yeah? If you’re all in one hotel room, does that mean you’re going to be drunk and sharing beds?”

Our first stop on the way was to pick up Mandy, who lives in a neighborhood where there are always children. Or, at least we thought.

No children here, except the sweet Baby Jesus

Once we had checked in to our hotel in Frisco and meandered over to Back Country Brewery for lunch/pregaming we boarded the free shuttle to Breckenridge to get wasted at the beer festival.

Here we met the first of our colorful cast of characters that eventually joined us for the rest of the day.

Amber, Lisa, Mandy and Megan were all sitting in the back of the bus next to 3 skateboarding troubled youths, a guy missing half of his front tooth, a guy wearing neon yellow sunglasses and a guy who apparently got offended at being called a gypsy.

As usual, a convo started up between everyone, with two of the guys claiming that they don’t pay their taxes. Seeing as this is one of the top signs of being a gypsy, a lot of name calling commenced.

Lisa looked sad to be sitting next to Half-Tooth, who clearly smelled terrible, but still thought it was okay to talk to us. When someone mentioned the blog, we said we assumed he couldn’t read it because he clearly didn’t own a computer with Internet service. He whipped out his phone and said he could read it there.

He then turned to his friend to start discussing whose lawn he was planning on camping out on that night.

Thankfully since I was sitting next to him I couldn’t see that he had only half a tooth and got to sit ignorantly thinking he had a sexy hockey player beard and the horrible smell was from too much athleticism. Thanks to everyone else for ruining this for me.  – Lisa

The other guy who had proclaimed that he didn’t believe in paying taxes (I don’t know why that concept offends me so much, but it truly does. We all have to pay taxes. It’s how it works) got miffed and stopped speaking to us when Amber called him a gypsy to his face. (I’m not sure why we were so surprise they didn’t pay their taxes since we did meet them on a vehicle of public transportation. )

In the meantime, the guy with neon sunglasses (who we dubbed “New York” because that’s where he was from) started guessing where we would all end up at the end of the night. This is what he determined

Megan: Probably lost in the woods

Mandy: In jail, most likely for hitting someone

Amber: Taking care of everyone else

Lisa: Making out with random guys

Me: Wildcard

By this time we had reached the festival, so we said goodbye to everyone and went on our way, assuming we’d never see any of them again. Little did we know.

The Beer Festival was glorious. Dozens of brewers from across the country were there with some of their most popular beers. Our cups looked like we were about to give pee samples, and the brewers had a lot of IPA’s.

DISCLAIMER: If you expect this post to have anything beer related, you’re on the wrong post. We didn’t take a single note on beer. (It would have been impossible with the frequency in which we were re-filling our cups). The only thing we remember is that there was a delicious green chili beer somewhere and when they start to run out of beer nothing gets you to the front of the line faster than a nice rack.

Thongs and Beer Festivals lead to Babies. It's just good marketing on their part

We asked a man to take a picture of all of us.

Man: “Which camera should I use? Yours or mine? Haha.”

Julia: “Mine.”

Man: “Can I take a picture to send to my wife?”

Mandy: “Do you want to get divorced?’

He must have really liked the view...

We finally saw the elusive Firkin
note: this is the only beer related term that will be used in this post

Someone fell over it, dropped their beer, and everyone booed. I love beer festival comraderie.

We learned that wearing slutty dresses has a purpose. You can keep your cup in your cleavage. I feel this will come in VERY handy at the Great American Beer Festival.

Boobs are so useful.

Too bad the beer being poured DID NOT GO with the beer in the cup

Mandy somehow recognized New York from the bus, yelled at him, and then had him join our entourage for the rest of the day.

And we took a picture with him, as though he was a celebrity

Later, he and I traded sunglasses.

We saw a man with a tramp stamp (Mamp-stamp), and chased him to get a picture of it

He may as well have a bullseye tatooed there. To match the arrow he had tattooed about his penis. No, seriously.

We decided to take a dip in the lake. And by decided, I mean that Lisa was a bitch, and threw my shoe in the water.

And clearly she's kicking at it, to make it go further in

I had to go get it

I threw her cup in, in retaliation. Too bad there was no more beer, and it turned out to not be her cup.

Then we all got in.

(Directly following this picture was taken we all playfully splashed water on each other and then had to go back to the room and all undress and dry each other off….PSYCH!)

Mandy ran in to her friend Fox, who was very nice, but had also recently “gotten back in to town” (I’ll let you decide what that means).

Yes, his name is Fox and yes, he did have a tattoo of a Fox. (See below)

He was also gentlemanly enough to let us take our blog’s first Guest Moob Shot.

We believe in equal opportunities on this blog.

After the festival. Fox bribed us with the promise of crepes, so we headed down the street to go to the crepes stand he worked at.

Megan, Amber and I were walking slightly behind and all looked confused when we passed the crepes, and instead watched Lisa and Mandy head into a bar.

Apparently they were just planning on going in to pee,  but the old men out front said that there was no way the two of them could get to the bar for drinks because it was packed and they themselves had failed. The girls took that challenge and said that if they did, the men had to buy them shots. Of course they were at the front of the bar about 5 seconds later.

And then they had to buy us all shots.

Us: 1Middle-aged men: 0

After the bar, we headed to Breckenridge Brewery, where we were mean to the waiter, used stickers as pasties, and had a group bulimia session. We also convinced one guy to ALSO wear stickers as pasties, then referred to him as such for the rest of the night.

Afterwards, while walking to the next bar, we asked Pasties how his pasties were.

Pasties: “I took them off,”

Lisa, Julia, Amber: “Booooooooooooo”

He stormed off. If you couldn’t tell, we were really good at making friends. (Actually, I think at one point we counted the total of people we pissed off in Breck, and it took two hands to count, so we said we couldn’t ever go back).

Amber lost her camera, so Lisa and I went with her to retrieve it while Mandy and Megan went with New York and Pasties.

We got horribly lost, had no idea where they had gone. We drunkenly stopped to ask the guy sitting on the bench, texting.

Benchie (as we began calling him) told us he had no idea where the bar in question was, but would we want to go to a Tool coverband concert instead?

Lisa almost had a heart attack right there, as Tool is her favorite band in the world. Amber and I agreed to go, until we learned it was a $12 cover charge. However, we somehow gypsy-tricked the bouncer into letting us in for $6.

As we stood waiting for the band to start, Benchie and his friend Squirrel (nicknamed because he had a skunk in the shape of a two on his shirt that I mistook for a squirrel) attempted to talk to us. Which led to


Amber (flirtatiously): “I’m really thirsty. I wish someone would buy me a beer right now.”

Benchie (without missing a beat): “Yeah? Well I’d like a blowjob right now, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?”

Julia: “If she gives you two blow jobs, can I get a beer too?”

He did end up buying us beers, then abandoned us to go play more with his phone. Squirrel wandered off, Amber and I got bored by the band and we went to find our friends, who were at a local dive bar.

We found them taking tequila shots with MORE old men and playing pool. (Also, fun note, Megan started juggling pool balls. She has video of that, and, the entire trip, but we have decided to NEVER watch it). Based on momentary lapses in drunkeness we remember the following clips of video being taken; a few ass -flashings, a convo about drug consumption and REAL lady homosexual tendencies and a 360 view of the last bar we went to that we remember.

We discovered this lobster on the outside of a Subaru.

This is what happens when you drive drunk in the ocean.

The word of the night was Twat-swatting.

Twat-swatting (v.) – this is the female equivalent of cock-blocking. However, we only did it because some of us didn’t have our phones and it would’ve been difficult to find them in the morning. Normally, we don’t believe in twat-swatting, as we feel that all ladies should have the right to go home with whoever they want.

Finally, on the way back to the car, someone knocked on the window of a school bus in a parking lot, which woke up the children who were sleeping in it. The last thing we heard as we drove away were their terrified screams.

And with that, our ridiculous day came to an end, and we went back to the hotel, where we all braided each other’s hair, and had pillow fights.

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