Witt and Wisdom

Ohmygod, I Hate You

I have party lag.  My body is a twisted mass of grape vodka remnants and residual awesomeness.

We had a blogger meetup at our house in Atlanta this weekend.  It would be cruel to explain to you how much fun it was and how you may have missed one of the best times of your life if you weren't there.

So I'm going to explain it to you.

Before the party even started, Erika sent a 200 pound box of cookies.  And she wasn't even coming.  People that weren't there were already contributing to the magic.  That's how massive the party was.

Friday night for dinner and drinks, there was serious thought given to motorboating the waitresses breasts.  I, for one, would've been willing to do jail time.  Totally worth it.

There is some evidence to suggest that Chaser has a not insignificant amount of crack cocaine in the ingredients.

My puppy shit whole peanuts. 

Caitlin made possibly the finest t-shirts ever created on the face of the Earth.  You can't have one.

At one point, there was extensive, detailed discussion on the true definition of an Angry Dragon.  Things actually deteriorated after that.

Uh-oh.  Things are starting to blur. 

It was just total awesomeness.  Thanks to everyone who came.  If you ever get the chance to party with these people, I highly recommend it.  Insanity.  Rock on.  Shocker.

Brad
Caitlin
Estella
Mark
Mark
Melman
Patricia
Leo
Julia (deceased)
Snowy
K
Scott
Michelle (SECRET SITE!!)

Pictures soon.

Probably Some Kind of Sign

I'm just now recovering from Saturday, when I drank for 11 straight hours and ended up asking the Virgin Mary to get me a rum and coke from the stripper at the bar while the Easter bunny danced to Kiss by Prince.

And also I saw the 60-something-year-old stripper in the Little Red Riding Hood costume again.  She didn't even remember me.  Could be because I was dressed like Santa Claus.  Could be the senility.

On the upside, I think Blondie might have remembered me, given the hold she put on my "candy cane".  Something tells me that I'm not her first. I would've put coal in her stocking, but let's just say there's not a lot of extra room in there.

I would get myself into a 12-step program, but that's SO many steps.  No way could I get through that.  Don't they make a two step program?  One where you can still drink?  No?

Okay, I'm inventing my own program then.

Step One: Shut up.
Step Two: Leave me alone.

That Kind of Holiday

Thursday evening, five minutes into the drive home from the Thanksgiving meal:

Her: "Uhhh..."

Me: "What?"

Her: "Do you have your pants off?"

Me: "This says something about our marriage that you're just now noticing that I have my pants off."

Her: "Whatever.  May I ask why you have your pants off?"

Me: "So. Full."

Her: "And just unbuttoning the top button isn't working for you anymore?"

Me: "I needed total freedom this time."

Her: "Jesus, what happens if we get in an accident?"

Me: "The cops will think it was one hell of an impact. 'Dear God!  His pants flew right off!'"

Her: "That would be kind of funny."

Me: "I know, I'm half tempted to jump the median just for the comedic value."

Her: "Please don't."

Me: "No sense of adventure with you."

Her: "WhatEVER."

Me: "So. Full."

We Are The Youth Gone Wild

I went back in time this past weekend, visiting old college friends and meeting a new generation of college kids.

I used a time machine that happened to be alcohol fueled. 

It's good to know that I can fall right back into a conversation with old friends and share a drink and a memory.  It's also quite heartening to see and hear young men are not much different than my friends and I were so many years ago.  A little different, but not much.

One of many favorite moments occurred when an 18 year-old young man and I talked outside of the hotel ballroom about his plans for college, women and the future.

Him:  "So you're an alumni?"
Me:  "Yep, what're you?  Freshman?"
Him:  "Yep.  Just started. I'm a pledge."
Me:  "Good for you.  You've got a lot of great times ahead of you."
Him:  "So how long have you been out of school?"
Me:  "Well, I'm 34 now, so..."
Him:  "THIRTY-FOUR!!??!?  Oh my GOD!"
Me:  "Yes, I'm lucky to be standing without the aid of a walker."
Him:  "It's not that, it's just that, HOLY SHIT!  THIRTY-FOUR!!"
Me:   "You'll have to speak into my good ear boy..."
Him:  "It's just cool that you're still into all this after so much time."
Me:  "I was just talking to an old friend about this earlier.  Pretty soon you're going to understand that life is about acquiring a series of memories."
Him:  "I'm starting to see that more and more tonight."
Me:  "So are you here with a girl tonight?  I can't believe how well they're making women nowadays."
Him:  "Um, yeah.  No, I don't have a girlfriend yet.  I'm saving myself.  I'm a virgin."
Me:  "Wow! That's quite a decision.  Good for you."
Him:  "I think people should wait til marriage."
Me:  "That's great, I've been married for almost 11 years."
Him:  "That's so cool!  You never hear that anymore.  So did you wait til marriage?"
Me:  (uncontrollable laughter)
Him:  "What?"
Me:  (uncontrollable laughter)
Him:  "So, then, no?"
Me:  (uncontrollable laughter)
Him:  "It's a personal choice, I guess."
Me:  (wiping tears away) "It is.  I'm not laughing at you.  I'll just check in with you in a year and see how that whole 'saving yourself' thing is going.  Good luck."
Him:  "Maybe it's easier than it was way back when you were in."
Me:  "Don't count on it, virgin."

Aren't they adorable at that age?

Rockin' Like Dokken

In order to provide you thankless hogsmokers a little entertainment value, I actually attempted to take a note here and there during my hiatus to remind me of some of the funnier and, well, noteworthy moments.  It seemed like a really good idea at the time.  The problem is that sleeping in the sun with SPF 4 Deep Tanning "Oil" also seemed like a good idea.  So you can see that my faculties may have been slightly impaired.

I am looking at the notes right now and I see some evidence of a negative effect from the eight beers, four vodka/7's and three shots that I imbibed.  From what I have been able to decipher, "Waahddun chakge ro shorke, caz bady I'n a mast" may translate to the Prince lyric, "Wouldn't change a stroke, cuz baby I'm the most."  You can't really see it now, but believe me, that shit is funny.  I do recall saying something like, "Prince is a goddamned genius.  You kids today have no fucking clue.  Music today sucks.  No innovators.  Who is innovative today? NO.  BODY.  NOW GET ME A FUCKING DRINK!"  Seriously, how can you argue with that kind of rock-solid platform?  Especially the "get me a fucking drink" part.  At one point, one of the twenty-somethings that was hanging out with us said, "What about Dave Mathews?"  I just shook my head and felt 80 years old.  Whippersnappers. 

Next in my notes are the words Get oFF -> 23 pestions in ove nigt stand.  I mean, really, this shit is GOLD.  Funny like a motherfucker.  Not sure why the Prince fixation.  Not even really a big fan.  I may have been drugged.

To cap the somewhat legible portion of the notes are two lines:

Mothy Crue - Live wire!
Def Lefend - Rocket

So yeah, you can see that it was non-stop laughter and shitty 80's music.  You young people are staring at the page right now thinking, "That poor, pathetic fuck.  I hope I die before I get like that."

I'm telling you right now, in ten years, you punk-ass bitches are gonna be sitting on a balcony overlooking a beach somewhere saying, "That goddamned R. Kelly was the shit.  Today's artists just can't compare."

This Room Smells Like Hotel Illness

My recent bout with my bowels has me thinking of other times in my life when I’ve been so sick that it felt like my red and white blood cells were in a Holy War.

There was a particularly dark period in my college career where I felt invincible.  More than that, I was invincible.  I could drink anything, in any quantity, and I knew I would survive.  I could approach any woman, any time I wanted, and I knew she’d agree to sex.  I could dangle from rooftops and toy with traffic and I knew that I could not be touched.  I was Superman.

Hardcore Man On Man Action

So with all of the talk of my gay “leanings”, I thought it was time to write about my first and only homosexual experience.  When I say “only”, I am not including that one time I wore a pink Izod polo shirt in Junior High or the time I got to a quarter-chub during Braveheart. 

This is different. 

This is hard core.