Remnants

Whenever I'm drinking, I can sense when a good drunk is settling in.  I can also sense when I'm about to take the step off of a very, very, very high cliff of drunkenness.  When one more beer, one more shot or one more sissy drink will send me careening downward, tumbling over rocks and glass shards and small ferns.

I call this place "The Line".

Here, then, is the conversation that my wife informed me that we had this past Sunday morning at about 3:30 am.  As I was laying across the bedroom and bathroom floor.  In my underwear.  Drooling.

Me: "Honey?"
Her: "What?"
Me: "HONEY!!?"
Her: "What's the matter?"
Me: "Honey.  Honey.  I...there's...there's a line."
Her: "What?"
Me: "There's...a line.  A line.  LINE!!!"
Her: "There's a line?"
Me: "There's a line.  And I...I crossed it.  The line."
Her: "A line."
Me: "But here's the...here's the thing.  I didn't even see it, dude."
Her: "The line."
(Me clawing at the carpet with my index finger.)
Me: "THE LINE!!"
Her: "You didn't even see it."
Me: "Didn't even know it was there.  Blew right past it.  Never knew it was coming.  Never saw it when I passed it."
Her: "You crossed the line.  You're drunk."
Me: "Well, YEAH!  But see...I never even saw it.  The line."
Her: "You mentioned that."
Me: "But usually I see it."
(Clawing again with the index finger.)
Her: "Yes.  The line.  I get it."
Me: "There's a line."
Her: "I know.  And you crossed it.  Honey, just rest now.  Stay near the toilet."
Me: "Man, I cannot believe that I didn't see the line.  I always see the line."
Her: "I know."
Me: "But I didn't even see it."
Her: "Time to shut up now."
Me: "Yeah.  Okay."
(Head slams to the floor)

I know that you've read how awesome this party was already.  But it was so much better than that.  For instance, the last thing I remember was judging a hair contest by running my fingers through the hair of every girl on the couch.  I was quite scientific.  I assume.  There were beakers involved.  Someone had a Bunsen burner.  I'm nearly positive of that.  Possibly it was a lighter.  Point is: So Awesome.  That's all I have to say about that.

Photos here: Flickr

Comments

[Greg]

That looks like fun. Snowy is so damn photogenic that I'm jonesin' all over again--the other team be damned. As for the shots of Julia, though--is that actually her, alive and breathing, or are you guys pulling a "Weekend at Bernies" on us?

[drummergirl]

every girl in the room?!

and i thought i was special.

[Scott-san]

I saw your line. You crossed it right about the time you told your wife she needed to shovel the sand out of her vagina. That was probably about 1 a.m.?

[drummergirl]

in the room. on the couch.

whatever.

[cw]

Scott, I usually tell my wife that by noon every day, so I was actually QUITE late.

Michelle, you were my first, I swear.

[Vaguely Urban]

At least you usually see the line. I usually sprint right over it.

[estella]

I remember that I lost this contest because my hair feels like it was hacked off with a bread knife. And then I freaked out.

Your wife is one of my new favorite people. I'm going to be sending her unsolicited cards and weird presents and shit between now and the next meetup. Next month.

[Brad]

At one point, near the end there, I blinked and my contact folded over. So, I just closed my eyes and listened to you masturbate girls hair for a while, and then the little contact decided to give sight a second chance. Unfortunately, the hair affair was over. But there was more beer.

[cw]

"Masterbate girls hair" sounds so seedy, Brad. I prefer to think of it as giving their hair a happy ending.

[teahouseblossom]

Wow..sounds like it was some party.

I'm still trying to wrap my brain about the concept of "masturbating girls' hair."

[leo]

I can't get sloppy drunk because when I get sloppy drunk I get mean. And sloppy. A really really sloppy mean. Its really quite horrible.

And, in some cases, tasty.

[drummergirl]

now i just feel dirty.

[Grampa]

I not going to be really happy until the Japanese develop a fart powered car.

[Snowy]

Greg, you know i'd marry you in a heartbeat were i not previously involved!

CW, i'm going to be running some statistical analysis on your findings of your soft-as-a-downy-chick hair comparisons. I will get back to you on the results shortly.
We Will crown our Champion!!

Speaking of champs? I'd like to nominate Caitlin for the title of Craftiest Beeyotch on Earth. move over Martha, you've met your match. And(!) she's hella more fun that you. Woooord.

[styro]

I think you told me I won the hair contest, but I was also last, and I informed you that I hadn't washed my hair in three days so maybe it didn't count? "It counts," you said, "It counts."

Grape Vodka is the devil.

[estella]

Oh Jesus God, Caitlin, I'd forgotten that.