Cause I'm TNT

Honey, strap on yer chaps and buckle on yer spurs cause we're going to see us some bullriding!

That's right folks, I have finally got to see the madness that is bullriding up close and personal. A dream of mine for years. Shan and I used to sit in my basement on Sunday morning-afternoons and watch hours, upon hours, of PBR (Professional Bull Riding). Hooked we were. We had our favorite riders, (Ty Murray--hottie!) and our favorite bulls (McNasty). We were glued to the TV watching and waiting for some brutal hits and to see who could last the 8 seconds of glory on the beast.

Thanks to Breck, he and I headed down to the Red Dirt RoundUp last night to claim our seats in the VIP section. That's right...VIP. The rodeo clown shook our hands. OH yeah. Well despite the cold steel bleachers that kept our asses numb, we had a great view as we were down on the red dirt itself.

The show begins. The lights go down. The loud, heavy rock music starts blasting. Fireworks go off. Flames rush down the center of the arena. Testosterone fills the air. We get introduced to our star riders who are spotlighted and surrounded by fire. I'm loving it. Seriously, you couldn't punch the smile off my face if you tried.

Soon enough the riding began. The bulls were released from their bucking shoots ( all of which were sponsored ever-so-fittingly by Jack Daniels, Rocky Boots, Dickies, and some trailer hitch company) and riders were being bucked off left right and center. The ones that did make the 8 seconds, there was a firework set off each time. And each time it scared the living crap out of me. As I'm sure it did the bull. Oh and not to forget the man on the horse with his lasso. He was cornered in the back of the arena waiting for bulls who didn't want to go back to pen after the ride. He lassoed one bull on his first try! It was amazingly accurate. I want to be a cowgirl. As for violence, there was only one incident of the bull stomping and head butting the rider and the clowns. I loved the simultaneous sucking-in-of-air sound made by the crowd when a bull would get out of line.

The commentator of the event and the Master Rodeo Clown kept us entertained in between with all the classic jokes in the book. Back and forth banter, insulting one another, commenting on how one was sleeping with the others' wife, et cetera. All in good fun. Although when the Rodeo Clown came to shake hands we scented an aroma of Jack Daniels himself coming from his painted face. Can you blame him?

All in all it was a fantastic evening of loud man-power, where Breck noticed that the Island's collection of "finest looking" folks had made an appearance. By golly, there was a lot of cowboy hats compensating for missing teeth. Regardless, if the PBR comes back, you can count me in.

Yeehaw!