Sexy Bull Riding/Ladies Night Got Wild N' Crazy! What's New Pussycat?

Another CBHTS Special

Biff Bifferson reporting
Wednesday 16 April 08

Sexy Bull Riding/Ladies Night Got Wild N' Crazy! What's New Pussycat?

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"It was just another boring day at the office, Honey.

I don't care to talk about it."

(The first thing you see when you enter our bar from the Duval Street entrance is one of our pretty Beer Tub Bartenders. Wednesday Night, it was Jessica selling those 16 oz. Bud, Bud Selects, and Bud Lights in the aluminum thermos bottles, coldest beer in our Hemisphere. She was also selling $2.00 Washington Apple Shooters made with Jim Beam Black and Coronas and Corona Lights for $3.00 all night. )

Hey Y'all,

(Who was that gal who jumped on stage and sang her ass off?)

It's 1:15 AM and I'm typing this as Chad Bradford and the Damn Band are playing just a foot or so away from my DJ booth. At this moment, the crowd is still good sized eventhough the Sexy Bull Riding Contest ended at 1:00 AM sharp. There is some chick on stage with them who has a set of pipes and a great pair of legs pouring out of some cut off jeans. She's wearing cowboy boots. For the men reading the blog, sorry I didn't get a better shot of these legs. I know how you all live for the cheap thrills at Cowboy Bill's.

Hey wait a second.

What could I do to redeem myself?

How about a shot of a crazy sexy woman riding the bull with no abandon?

Done!!!












Howza about doublin' up on that, Rowdy?

Okay.

You make me work too hard. But it's a job. Somebody has got to do it.

Poof.

Done yet again.

Chad Bradford's got a new lineup behind him. We still call them "The Damn Band". I introduced the new drummer as "Tom Petty" except this guy is disgustingly handsome and should be doing underwear ads. I have about a half-dozen third year med students from University of Miami who are ready to bag 7 years of college education to follow this guy on the road and do his laundry.

And as for the whole band, if I were them, I'd make sure the band house door was locked at night before the female bartenders and waitresses sneak in, bound them head and foot in duct tape, and drag them down to Ms. Irene's Dungeon for Wayward Bartenders and Waitresses.

You smile on stage, Boys, but are you man enough for an entire week of Key West?

(They better keep that drummer looking at their collective 3 asses in the front, otherwise

that guy playing the skins will be enslaved by the women in Cowboy Bill's)

Here's a photo of three young soon to be Doctors who are going to be GPs in the near future. How many of you guys haven't been to a doctor in 10 years? Where does the line start for these three when they start practicing?

(The one in the middle screamed like she was having a Big "O". Maybe she'll be the next Dr. Ruth?)

Anyhoo, the contest tonight had 17 contestants for the Sexy Bullriding Constest.

Our "Professional" photographer with a zillion dollar camera was supposed to make a copy on a CD Rom of all the women who went bonkers and took off their tops. Well, let's just say, I didn't get that CD Rom because Mr. Paparazzi was out in the alley picking up shiny pop tops in the dirt. Okay, I'm lying, but it sounded like a True Key West story, didn't it? Had ja.

Okay, so I was behind the lens of these photos using a dinosaur digital camera.

I'll show you a photo now of the blonde beauty who won the contest. In this photo, she is wearing a top. If you can imagine wearing a pair of X-Ray Specs, you might know why there was an audible"Whoop, There They Is" when those torpedos came out of the tubes.

(One of those rare shots of Captain Billy looking a contestant eye to eye, instead of eye to chest. And if Billy tells me I'm fired again for leaving this comment under the photo, I'll just answer, "But I was fired last week, Billy. . . is that one still in effect?")

The way this week's Sexy Bull Riding contest went down.

We had 17 contestants for the first round.

The first round went well, only two of the riders "dropped out" when they saw several of the gals rip off their bras from within their blouses, shirts, tunics, burquas (I was pulling for the Afghani girl, I really was) and so on.

I was also pulling for the 2 University of Miami Med Students in their 3rd year (supported by four of their sisters), but by round two, all of them dropped out except for one. She wore a tiny pair of thongs, took off her top, and had I been a judge, she would have been one of my votes for finalists.

(Note to the next Commander-in-Chief: hire in-shape female doctors who only wear thongs to conduct indoctrinations for Armed Forces physicals. Enlistments will skyrocket. Then we will have an Army so big we could conquer Mars, Venus, and the other planets, minus Pluto, which ain't a big enough planet to be conquering. If any of you want to pass this on to Hillary, McCain or Obama . . . and they use it . . . don't you dare not attribute this great idea to a lil' ole DJ at the Southernmost Country Bar in the US of A, or I might have to step on your Crocs. Capiche?)

But I digress.

As it was, the judges (one of whom was Chad Bradford) had their hands full whittling the field down to the three finalists . . . who all put on a show for the cheering crowd.

Although we don't have actual photos of the three finalists and how they got there by the last round, here are two more photos from previous contests which will give you the idea of what went down:

(I really hope this photograph will not expand if you click it twice.

Otherwise, your computer monitor might explode from giant nipples piercing the screen.)

There was a tie for second place.

A buxom blonde beauty number 17, Juliette, and a brunette bombshell number 14, Yours Truly from the Rock of Love (don't ask, because I didn't either) each received $25.00 gift certificates good for the purchase of adult beverages and/or clothing at Cowboy Bills. Both of these ladies hotter than a Gas Tanker on a Sunday Drive Through Hell.

The gorgeous blonde who came in first place, number 8, L A Queen, won this thing hands down and bazongas out. L.A. Queen won $200.00 cash and she was sporting a "Chad Bradford" tank top before her first ride. By the second ride, she ripped that tank top off. When she did, the crowd almost fainted as they were bigger than two Housing Bubbles.

I heard group Boing Yong Yongs from the guys present . . . and that was over the loud House Rockin' Country I was playing for the ladies in the contest.

(Mama plays a Squeeze Box that she wears on her chest, when Daddy comes home, he never gets no rest . . . )

Anyway, the contest was the usual smashing success and eventhough "season" has ended and all the guest houses around my hidey hole are sporting "Vacancy" signs, there is no sign of a Tourist Recession at Cowboy Bills. We keep getting up and getting crazier by the week. I think people just want to forget all the crap going wrong in the world and they seek out the laughter, the agelessness of good music, the fun of crowds who aren't worrying about some dimwit Church Lady telling them it's a sin to get naked when taking a shower or whatnot. And who in hell wants to go sit at a bar where politics is discussed by a bunch of stodgy wankers? And who wants to stay home and watch the Law and Order Channel 24/7 or watch another frotting Reality TV Show with some bloated old has beens still seeking celebrity worship?

I think Cowboy Bill's is hitting on all its cylinders simply because we hire the best people to do the work around the place and in turn, it attracts a great crowd who know the bar is safe while allowing everyone to color outside the lines without giving two hoots about age, sexual preference, color of skin, and all that jazz which screws up adults who listen to too much Shout Radio.

Maybe I digress again.

Okay, let me lay some more good news on you to take your mind off the bad news I was alluding to.
The Billy Currington show scheduled for Mallory Square this coming Friday, April 16, 2008 at 8:00 PM (click the red link to read all about it) is definitely a go. Chad Bradford and the Damn Band will open as planned. You can read about it all here on this blog or listen for the ads on Conch Country 98.7 FM.

More hysterical, errr, historical photo-journalism form this past Wednesday's Ladies Night at Cowboy Bill's Honky Tonk Saloon in Key West, the Conch Republic!

So, what kind of people were here partying down for this Wednesday Night? Well, let's lay a bunch more photos here to give you the idea why Cowboy Bill's is the weirdest country bar in the known Cosmos

(Wendy and Rachel, our two Saloon Bar bartenders. Rowwwwwrrrrrrrrr! Dem Women's is Crazy)

(Shannon, one of our Security Guys who is also barbacking on Thursday and Friday. He's inside the DJ booth early on Wednesday Night before the band started or the Sexy Bull Riding Contest kicked off. He has that look of "Recession? What Recession? This bar is kicking!)

(Those wild Doctors to Be from the UM Med School warming up the dancefloor before Chad Bradford took the stage.)

(He shall remain nameless, due to his employ, but he rides a crotch rocket

and works at a certain stripclub in this town, wink, wink.)

(That's Joe and Shannon behind the Sports Bar bar pushing drinks to the guys watching the Yankees beat the Red Sox.)

(Winner of Two or more Sexy Bull Riding Contests, the one and only Mountain Girl. She and Haley are also the two hottest pool players on the property, guys, so, don't say I didn't warn you.

You want to play them, I'm backing them on side bets.

p.s. Look at the guy walking behind Mountain Girl trying not to look down. Buy X Ray Specs, Dude!

(Haley, working the MIHOP* Bar Wednesday Night. Yep, she's the other pool shark to watch out for.

You know what it is guys? She and Mountain Girl should not be allowed to lean over the pool tables to make shots. I think you know what I mean.)

*Miss Irene's House of Pain Bar. Flapjacks not served here. But mighty big hangovers are just the beginning.

(And then there's Ms. Irene, part owner of Cowboy Bill's and most photographed bar owner of all time. The guy with her in this photo owns some website I wrote down the name of, but I lost the paper. I don't think he'll mind. He got to squeeze the Charmin' for a Kodak Moment.)

(Eftim, one of our funny Security guys, and a bunch of his friends from his home country of Bulgaria!

"American Beer tastes like peees!")

(Jason, from the Wagon Wheel Restraurant (and Seattle, Suicide Capital of the USA, Rowdy!), the coolest cook in Key West studying from the Holy Book of Music at the DJ Booth . . . Late Night with Jason is my "Chill" when coming down from a crazy night of losing my voice while working the crowd with a band. Jason's no. 1 line: "Can I request a song?" Jason, don't you ever die, bro.)

(Somewhere close to 3:45 AM, I bumped into the new "Tony Orlando and Dawn" in our game room singing up a storm.)

(So I walked into the Sports Bar and smiled. One biker chick, three biker hound dogs around her. Perfect.

Sonny and Frankie on the ends. Hey, ain't that Andy in the middle pinching some Cheese?)

(The gal on the right was from India. She was cool as all.

The two ladies on her left just walked up to the DJ Booth and said, "Take our picture!" I'll take one of each, Waiter."

(This was about 3:30 AM on our dancefloor. A woman named "Smiley" (in jeans) was teaching one of our University of Miami Med Students some pole tricks. The soon to be doctor of medicine caught on within seconds.

It's like the Discovery Channel at Cowboy Bill's.)

(The mysterious "Smiley" then took it up a notch and asked the 3rd year med student, "Can you wrap one of your legs behind your head while holding onto the pole?" Unfortunately, the good Doctor to Be wasn't having any of it . . . )

(You see what I have to put up with at the DJ Booth?)

(Dr. Evil, aka Cowboy Bill, right before he faceplants a Cowboy, or shakes the peaches out of some gal's blouse while running the mechanical bull.)

As I was taking this photo, the guy in the peach colored T-Shirt said to the lady on his left,

"Myrtle, I don't think we're in Kansas any more!"

(The usual wall to wall crowd during a Sexy Bull Riding contest)

The usual crowd just hanging indoors by the dancefloor,

watching & cheering on 20 or more contestants in the Sexy Bull Riding Contest.

So, if you're reading this blog and it's night time, just remember, Night Time is the Right Time at Cowboy Bill's. Of course, you can always come down during the day. We open the gates at 12 noon, and Monday through Friday we have the famous 2-4-1 Happy Hour which even the Tourists are now talking about as a "regular" pit stop before walking down to Sunset at Mallory Square.

Well gang, it's now 3:30 AM and I'd better concentrate on taking some requests from the people still here. I like to think of them as "THE LONG BALL" hitters. You know, the folks who are the last standing party people at 4:00 AM at Cowboy Bill's.

Til we meet next in person or here on the blog, tight ropes around that bull, and keep on smilin'!

DJ Rowdy (aka Biff Bifferson when I'm on Channel Zero, head constricted by a necktie, $400 haircut trying to hide the bald spot.)

Over and Out!

p.s. And just remember . . . if I didn't offend someone tonight, I'll try harder to do so tomorrow!