Party Time!
Getting Older Ain't ALL Bad!
The purpose of this weekend's trek to Dallas was for a birthday party. Jenni & I share July birthdays, along with our friends Billy & Eddie. Billy was kind enough to turn over his house & pool for a real blowout, the "White Trash"-themed birthday party.
It was quite the event. Costuming ran the gamut from overalls and NASCAR gear to assless (and crotchless, oh my...) jeans, hair curlers, broken teeth and black eyes. And that was just on the women!
We grilled burgers & dogs, and topped them with generic Wal-mart condiments and plenty of American cheese. Vienna sausages, Slim Jims and canned cheese were in abundance, as were bowls of Mac & cheese with the sliced weenies, and plenty of cheap beer. Billy made a huge cake topped on one side with a bottle of bourbon jammed in like a candleholder, with a candle duct-taped to the bottle, and a little trailer-park scene using toy cars and trailers on the other.
Rockhauler trekked over from the other side of the Metroplex and we were able to show off our new trucks to each other. Zippo was supposed to show, but ended up AWOL for the evening.
Now, just so we're all clear on this matter, Jenni, Billy, Eddie, Rockhauler and I are absolute paragons of moral rectitude. We frown on all manner of frivolity and licentiousness. Therefore, we had no involvement or spectatorship of the 3 a.m. conclave of nekkid lesbians in the ceee-ment pond. We certainly didn't lower ourselves to participate in the "make your own chocolate chip cookie bikini top" contest in the kitchen, and we're all completely horrified that half-dressed wimmens were intoxicated on trashcan punch and draping themselves over other partygoers. We categorically deny any knowledge of buttocks being played like bongos, or the awareness of any nipple-ring "try it before you buy it" comparison shopping.
That's our story, anyway, and we're sticking to it, by gum.
There's a rumor floating about that I was drinking tequila until 4 a.m. Nothing could be further from the truth! There's been word about counterfeit bottles of cactus juice being imported into Texas lately, and I was simply performing a crucial public service by testing the assorted bottles for quality control purposes. I wasn't completely sure about the Patrón, so I had to retest that one several times. Fortunately, they all passed muster.
Great party in all respects. The po-leece drove by, but didn't linger. No one blew chunks in the pool, and I'm happy about that. (Jerry 'Chunks' McGee is a little disappointed, however) No serious party fouls, apart from one broken bottle.
Next up, I think we need a Viking party. No one needs to bring anything, we'll just load up in the trucks, ride down to the M streets, and commence looting. There shouldn't be any opposition. It's doubtful anyone in that neighborhood will own a gun...
The purpose of this weekend's trek to Dallas was for a birthday party. Jenni & I share July birthdays, along with our friends Billy & Eddie. Billy was kind enough to turn over his house & pool for a real blowout, the "White Trash"-themed birthday party.
It was quite the event. Costuming ran the gamut from overalls and NASCAR gear to assless (and crotchless, oh my...) jeans, hair curlers, broken teeth and black eyes. And that was just on the women!
We grilled burgers & dogs, and topped them with generic Wal-mart condiments and plenty of American cheese. Vienna sausages, Slim Jims and canned cheese were in abundance, as were bowls of Mac & cheese with the sliced weenies, and plenty of cheap beer. Billy made a huge cake topped on one side with a bottle of bourbon jammed in like a candleholder, with a candle duct-taped to the bottle, and a little trailer-park scene using toy cars and trailers on the other.
Rockhauler trekked over from the other side of the Metroplex and we were able to show off our new trucks to each other. Zippo was supposed to show, but ended up AWOL for the evening.
Now, just so we're all clear on this matter, Jenni, Billy, Eddie, Rockhauler and I are absolute paragons of moral rectitude. We frown on all manner of frivolity and licentiousness. Therefore, we had no involvement or spectatorship of the 3 a.m. conclave of nekkid lesbians in the ceee-ment pond. We certainly didn't lower ourselves to participate in the "make your own chocolate chip cookie bikini top" contest in the kitchen, and we're all completely horrified that half-dressed wimmens were intoxicated on trashcan punch and draping themselves over other partygoers. We categorically deny any knowledge of buttocks being played like bongos, or the awareness of any nipple-ring "try it before you buy it" comparison shopping.
That's our story, anyway, and we're sticking to it, by gum.
There's a rumor floating about that I was drinking tequila until 4 a.m. Nothing could be further from the truth! There's been word about counterfeit bottles of cactus juice being imported into Texas lately, and I was simply performing a crucial public service by testing the assorted bottles for quality control purposes. I wasn't completely sure about the Patrón, so I had to retest that one several times. Fortunately, they all passed muster.
Great party in all respects. The po-leece drove by, but didn't linger. No one blew chunks in the pool, and I'm happy about that. (Jerry 'Chunks' McGee is a little disappointed, however) No serious party fouls, apart from one broken bottle.
Next up, I think we need a Viking party. No one needs to bring anything, we'll just load up in the trucks, ride down to the M streets, and commence looting. There shouldn't be any opposition. It's doubtful anyone in that neighborhood will own a gun...
posted by El Capitan | 2:27 PM
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