I Took My Neighbors to Brews In the Village And All I Got Was A Bunch of Pictures, Pt. 1

Saucy!

Pt. 1 "Don't Feed the Bears"

As many avid Danielle Belton readers know, I live downtown. My neighbors are two sweet, beer loving urban bears Yogi and Bam Bam. Yogi is the oldest and his little bro' who's actually taller than him is Bam Bam. Yogi and Bam Bam love beer -- a lot. So when I offered Yogi a coveted VIP pass to Brews with me as part of my one person entourage he forked over $20 to go halvsies on the $45 it takes to get into Brews In the Village Saturday with his little brother so he could come too.

Naturally, I was happy. Then they got wasted on me and started slap boxking, but more on that later.


Yogi hurt his lower paw a while back so he had to wear the big white shoes. Later, a beer charged Bam Bam would help him re-injure it at the Brews.

The bears were pretty exciting about going out as we always make plans to do things but never seem to get together. This was one of those rare moments when all the starts were alined in Yogi's favor, hence insuring that he would A) get wasted, so wasted it was sick and B) have a good time. Bam Bam's motives were to look nice and to avoid my camera. He gets a point for wearing a pink shirt, hence proving his manhood.


Bam Bam's pink shirt cannot hide from my camera.

Since Yogi and I were VIPs we were whisked quickly through the gate while poor Bam Bam had to wait in line with the other non-VIPs. While we dined on sandwiches from Urners and watched Budweiser Select people toss beads into the crowd Bam Bam was back there in line with a gazillion other people, desperate for that sweet, sweet beer.


Give us your beads but not your beer! We have Budweiser at home. We're all here for the Blue Moon and Old River.

Being a VIP did strange things to the Yogi. Being Fake Famous I'm used to paparazzi, receiving phone calls from Vince Vaughn and having all of Cyndi Lauper's cell phone numbers. But this star treatment was new to the Yogster, so he was prone to shouting, "Hide the money, ya'll! There's poor people around!" to which I only found mildly embarassing. But, um, they're bears. They don't get out much. But they do watch a lot of Dave Chappelle.


Although Yogi and Bam Bam ran into a lot of friends occassionally Yogi, after enough beer, would pretend to know people I knew. Like Danielle R. The other Danielle who's Fake Famous and does theater locally. She's the blonde.

Since Yogi and Bam Bam are basically bears they went straight for as much beer and food a bear could eat, which is a lot. They often wandered off (as bears do) and even danced. And who doesn't love dancing bears? Yogi found himself meeting dignitaries like Fake Famous DJ Rocky Nash from KRAB and the fire chief, Limoscene Guy, people I knew that he fast made his friends, while wasted.

Once the night was through, I tricked the boys into leave early at, gasp, 9:30 (Brews started at 6 p.m. and ended at 10.) They wanted to stay forever with the sea of fake boobs and pretty girls and beer and all. Plus, Yogi was a VIP. He was king of the world, until he and his brother turned into Whitney and Bobby, started slap boxing and Bam Bam pinned him to the ground, reinjuring Yogi's foot.

Needless to say, Yogi was pissed. Drunk and pissed.

But he got over it. Both boys got home all right and my commemorative glass got broken. And I almost wanted to kill them both for being, well, drunk and shouting "Hide the money, ya'll" around actual people with money, but I loved them too much to care. How can you hate a bear for being a bear?

But Bam Bam totally threw up when he got home and it was so funny it was sick. Yogi and I laughed and laughed and laughed. Then we ran off to play pranks on park rangers ...