Who are these people? Why do I know them? Better yet, why do I trust them??? Hell, why do they trust me??? Can you say U-Haul trailer full of nitrogen fertilizer soaked in kerosene??? Yeah, that is my kind of party... Who better to hand your keys and wallet to than someone as equally as messed up as you are??? And then after a "fist-bump" you head over to the edge of the cliff to do something INCREDIBLY stupid with a large rubber band tied around your ankles... Sorry, I'm giggling... Smile...
I have been blessed by the Fates with a lifetime full of loonies. Sorry, I'm still giggling. Heh, heh, heh... Nothing is more fun than a house full of crazies. Unless, of course, it's a house full of wonderfully "medicated" (enhanced???) crazies. In costume. Bearing gifts for yours truly. Trust me on this one, if you decide to be nuts dive into the deep end of the pool. It's mucho, moi, mas more fun down there! Really, it is!
Aah, yes.... 60. Last night I began the "official" launch of my really long weekend nose dive into the BIG 6-Ouch. My hostesses, two of my favorite lesbians, were gullible enough to open their home and throw me a white trash bash. This fiasco involved lots of shots, way too many dogs, deliciously scary costumes, crock pots, damned near half a pig, a few more shots and the most amazingly mobile home park side dishes you can imagine. At one point I actually managed to set the grill on fire. No, not in that good way that you want to "fire-up" a grill. I actually managed to set a gas grill on fire. Yes, there is such a thing as too much chicken, I guess... FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!
I was tsunami'd from all sides by prison 'tats, tank tops, flip-flops and wife-beaters. (FYI: I was wearing some of those things myself...). I was toasted and roasted. I would have it no other way!!! I happily shared my big day with a 9-year old that owns my soul whose birthday I missed last month. She was thrilled by the 6-pack of jumbo black olives that I gave her. She anointed me with yellow balloons, recycled glitter and Girl Scout cookies. What can I say, she's my kind of lady...
Somewhere over the course of the evening I managed to misplace my watermelon. Yes, really, I lost a watermelon. I don't know how. C'mon, think about it, how the hell do you "misplace" a watermelon??? They're kind of obvious... Shit!!! I spent half an hour picking out that water melon!!! And now it's probably just moldering away in the back of a lesbian refrigerator. Unseen. Unnoticed. Ripe. Overripe, actually... Like I said, half an hour...
Somewhere, in the middle of this I vaguely remember trying to explain what "while on the brown acid" meant to a 15 year old. With his wonderfully crazy mother backing me up. Hon, I LOVE ya!!! It went from Woodstock, to giggles, to snorts and then on to glazed eyes. His, NOT ours. Heh, heh, heh... Lord, I do love laughing like the dEVIL!!! What can I say, you just gotta love a fellow stoner.... Cupcake, you got some stones. I love thar!!!
At some point throughout the debacle several people suffered moderately severe second degree burns due to the "S'more"s Effect" as we called it. Well, not so much a S'more's thing as much as we were all messed up enough to try to make S'more's out of roasted "Peep's". And had the drunken mishap of putting a 9-year old in charge of it. (Thank gOD I'm not a parent...) Pretty much everyone between 9 and 46 got some sort of injury requiring varying degrees of ice.
Around about midnight I poured myself out of the back seat of a pick-em-up truck that my DD was driving and into the parking lot of my apartment complex. Along with the better part of half a case of assorted tequilas, a bed pan (thank you, I think...), a shirt pocket full of bacon and super glue, a cabbage and a couple of pink flamingos. Oh, yeah, and some Paula Dean DVD's before she was "THE" Paula Dean. Can you say re-gifting???
Aah, shit...
As I type there is a smile on my face, a silly lilt in my step, an ABBA song I just can't seem to get out of my head and a twinkle in a pair of green eyes. In the words of a dear friend, " 'tis good to be the king.".
Aah, yes, my friend, 'tis good to be the king...
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