Ray Thinks Your Tractor's Stupid

I have to admit that I do a lot of terrible things to my girlfriend in the bed room, very few of which have to do with criticizing the way she makes the bed. So, when she said that she wanted to go see "The Fiddlin' Country Bumpkins," (a.k.a. the Kenny Chesney concert,) I have very little choice but to oblige her.

On the way there, I somehow got tricked into driving and my girlfriend was sitting next to me playing with a "Bop It."

If you are unfamiliar with the Bop It, its a brightly colored child's toy. It's a game kinda like Simon says, except instead of touching colors when instructed by the little device, there is a lever that you pull, a thing you can twist, and naturally a place to "bop" it.

As she is playing, I have the music in the car up, so its hard for her to hear the instructions from the game. I was just blasting the Distillers trying to pretend that the car wasn't rushing toward the inevitable redneck-convention like water being sucked down a drain...

Anyway, she cant hear the Bop It that well, and she thinks every once in a while it might be saying something other than the Pull it, Twist it or Bop it directives. I tell her that i think i hear the thing saying "Free Hand!"

She has no idea what that could mean, so I'm trying to say that it is probably a trick from the Bop It to see if you'll hit something, when you are supposed to just do some kinda free style hand-jive...

I sure-as-shit am no Bop It expert, but that's the best I can come up with. So, I'm waving my hand all around the car, and I decide that I should just play the damn thing so I can show her what the hell I'm talking about.

So, now I'm driving and trying to play Bop It. As I'm doing this, I look to my left and there is a minivan full of high school age boys motioning towards me with their heads and all hitting imaginary Bop Its!

They are hanging out the fuckin windows, reaching as if they want to play. I'm stuck at a light with them, and I can hear them clamoring through the closed window. I decide that I have to roll down my window because they aren't going away. When I do this, the one in the passenger's seat hangs his whole torso out of the window and, BURSTING with pride, asks me, "you goin' see Kenny?"

Just like that.

With a tongue like a brand new bag of cotton candy, this (probably half retarded) boy asks me, "You goin' see Kenny?"

I should say that I HOPE he's half retarded. At least half retarded - for his sake...

With the little self respect I have packing for a long absence, I answer yes as a cry for a game of Bop It comes from the back window. I promise to bring it into the show and firmly resolve to not look to my left for the rest of the evening.

My girlfriend, needless to say, is dying...

There i sit: on my way to a Kenny Chesney concert, and as a group of strangers drive by I'm observed furiously working on a game of Bop It. I would have rather a group of strangers drive by and observe me furiously working on my own cock!! At least masturbating is something that grown men DO!

Then, the show... the show... If nothing else, the show was a victory for fat people, drunks and whoever makes female cowboy hats. It would have been more enjoyable to be the guest of honor at a prison rape. At least it would have sounded better.

And whats with that little bowling pin shaped singer?

I don't know what exactly it is, but there is definitely something wrong with the top of his head. He is never photographed without a big dumb cowboy hat, baseball cap, fright wig - something on that shrunken head of his!! There is something up there he does NOT want us to see.

My guess is it's his balls. They cant be between his legs.

He wears jeans that must be made of a biker-short material and he has to put them on in a process that involves a vacuum press. On top of that, that man spent 109 of his 110 minute performance with his legs in 2 different zip codes! The Marlboro Man doesn't spend that much time bow-legged!

Now, if girls weren't in love with this guy like he's a hillbilly James Dean, I'd assume that he had no boy-parts... but the ladies love him, which can only lead me to believe hes got his sack somewhere on the top of his skull.

I'd like to be able to say that I'm just kidding, and that at the end of the night he took off his hat as he bowed to the thousands of adoring fans and showed us that his scalp is ball-free, but I wouldn't know.

I'd have to say that, if I were looking for a moral to this story, it'd probably be something like: I guess there is a finite number of times that you can scream out "how does Jack White's dick taste?!" before the good ol' boys take it upon themselves to forcibly removed from a Kenny Chesney show.

Who knew..?