It was just another typical Friday night in Aspen. That day I ripped 18 top to bottoms ( not really) Spar, Copper, Spar, Copper, Spar Copper, you get the picture. After a quick, rejuvinating trip to the Aspen Club for the 4 S's... Schvitz, shave, shower and (expletive deleted) Andy Party...was RTP...ready to party.
Click 4 Pix: FRIDAY NIGHT SIGHTS
Only problem was... the town seemed dead. I was cruising around the Aspen Core looking for action. It was quiet. That's the thing about Aspen you never know what's going on behind closed doors. I was bummed, I wanted to get busy. I zipped by the Bermuda Triangle (Jimmy's, Campo, Cache Cache)...just a bunch of old guys ( waaaaaaaay older than me) hitting on soft hookers, who were memorizing tail numbers. I stopped into Justice Snow's ...but the bartender was so busy crafting cocktails...that he didn't have time to serve me. Maybe a show at The Wheeler...a physics lecture perhaps? Nothing doing tonight. Escobar? Caribou? The Vampire places...they don't get going until like three or 4 in the morning...I mean after midnight. It was already 8 o'clock anyway, almost time for bed. Ahhhh, f#ck it...maybe there was some good porn on spanktravision.
I was heading for home when I heard a distinctive sound. What was it? I could barely make it out,...could it be? As I got closer, it sounded like the distinctive party stylings of Psy. Yes!! It was Gangham Style. But, where was it coming from? I engaged my spin senses. The Sky Hotel. I jogged over. Turns out, I had stumbled on to the fittest, stongest, 6 packiest party in Aspen. ASPEN CROSSFIT was throwing their holiday party. I paused and thought to myself, are fat people allowed? Turns out the the more the merrier. Erik the owner welcomed me. So I proceeded to get my party on with some of the leanest, fittest, healthiest, most burpee competent people in Aspen. It was an awesome gig and I raged. But realistically, I wasn't going to get any of these super-ripped chicks, especially with all those Chippendale lookin' dudes hanging around. So I took off.
Those that really know A. Party in real life realize that I don't drink much. I'm not a puritan, or a recovering alcoholic or anything. I just don't dig on booze. One other thing...I really don't like to party in basements...so the club scene is not my favorite milieu. But rules are made to be broken. I was walking past The REGAL and I noticed one of those uber-distinctive Aspen Peak cardboard signs. Always a sure signal of a hosted bar party. I asked Gerald the Doorman what was going on. He replied "ASPEN WEATHER is throwing down". What??? I've been spreading the message of Aspen Weather's prognosticating prowess... even before they had their own site. Plan your POW Day..bro!! Ryan and Corey are my boiiiiieees. Before I even had a chance to toss out my over-used "do you know who I am?" rap....Gerald said...Andy Party...AspenSpin...you're on the list. Yeeeeaaaaaaah Boiiie. I was in!!! Shots!!!
Drinks, Chicks, Music, Lights.... oh sh*t...here we go again. I made it past midnight.
Click 4 pix: FRIDAY NIGHT SIGHTS