Boo!

It's my favorite holiday by far, I mean don't get me wrong...Thanksgiving has the oh so delicious turkey and of course all of those fantastic fixins that leave me in a near comatose state for around three days, and christmas reminds me of happy and even hilarious times like the christmas eve when dad had a little too much nog in his egg and didn't quite make the turn at the landing on the stairs to his bedroom and went full drunk speed into the wall...but Halloween is a day solely devoted to one of my most favorite things in the world---you and everyone around you dressing like idiots.

Due to the nuptials of My BFF and The Future Mrs. My BFF/Rouge Hand falling on the Eve of All Hallows Eve, I had to get my Halloween celebration on a week early which didn't bother me at all but I do think it confused more than a few people at the drinking establishment we regularly visit. This years costume was decided too long ago to remember, and I'm not completely sure what made me decide to go as a man, let alone a man with mutton chops (I'm assuming my reasoning had something to do with a constant need to acquire laughter) but I went as the Wolverine. Along with the wolverine we had a butt pirate, a race horse and robin sparkles just to mention a few. It may not have been Halloween but it certainly felt that way....until next year.


I can now say I know what the wolverine felt like when he first got his claws. It was confusing and I almost jabbed my own eye out about 15 times.

Hillbilly Bash

After a brief blogging hiatus I am back. My apologies to those who choose to avoid the actual work they are paid to do with a nice blend of facebook, my blog, and lexulous.

As promised a run down of the Redneck Games and Hillbilly Bash, otherwise known as the celebration of the third anniversary of my 26th Birthday. On this fine day I learned a few things, and I would be just as pleased as punch to share them with you.

1. Turns out when invited to a Hillbilly Bash everything you need can be picked up on your way to the party with one quick stop to Walmart. Which is phenomenal considering those I hold near and dear to my heart aren't what you call 'planners'.
2. Not even SLBDJT can make jorts look sexy.
3. Men's camouflage shorts provide ample space to store multiple Smirnoff Ice.

4. No Longer Easy E has a huge bladder...she can sit in a kiddie pool in our driveway drinkin' beers all day and never have to get up to go the bathroom.

5. My friends love me and care about my physical well-being enough to not set up a slip and slide in the backyard after I have been celebrating the demise of my youth all. damn. day.
6. SLBDJT believes it to be appropriate to not only go to the bar, but to also ride in a cab seconds after going swimming in jorts.

As a whole the day was filled with a multitude of "Icings", more than a few odd looks from the neighbors, and great times shared with great friends.

It ended just a quickly as it began and when I woke up in the afternoon I found a yard that brought me back to memories of my younger years in the midwest. I couldn't have asked for a better way to celebrate the third anniversary of my 26th!

Slip and bruise your...

According to the Kissy Faced Booty Shaker a slip and slide isn't something you should skimp on...so I bought the $9 instead of the $5. We'll see how it works out at the Redneck Games and Hillbilly Bash tomorrow.

I also picked up a 6 pack of Smirnoff Ice...guess we'll find out what party goers actually read this fine blog and bring a blocker tomorrow.

Updates from the birthday bash to follow!

Just when they raised my ER deductible to $100…

With Little A coming into this world in less than a month’s time I have been browsing around the interweb for a very tiny pair of puma’s to assure she will be dressing just as fly as her Aunt A. I finally found the perfect pair which match both her mommy’s pumas and mine, are pink so The Future Mrs. My BMF will approve and….they were for the low low price of only $14. Score one for the home team! Needless to say I was pretty pumped, but being the shoe-hoor that I am I of course had to browse around a bit more…

While on the site, I clicked on the Heelys link just to see what they had. Honestly I have wanted a pair of these for years but could never justify spending 50 to 60 bones on a pair of shollerskates, I’m ridiculous, but not quite that level of ridiculous. Plus if you really wanted to talk about total cost you would have to add in my ER deductible, so basically we are talking about a $160 dollar pair of shollerskates. Honestly, you could probably buy a slightly used kidney for $160 on the black market or at the very least an asian baby. I digress. Much to my elation I stumbled upon a pair of Heelys for 22.75! SOLD!

Here I am four days later with no more coordination than that of asian baby, or any baby for that matter, and unwrapping a size 8 concussion. Here’s to short lines at the ER, wish me luck!

“Almost” Only Counts in Horseshoes and Hand Grenades…and Broken Hips

I can only hope that when I’m just a few days shy of my 62nd birthday that I will be as hilarious, fun, and willing to try new things as my Momma.

Last week, I had the brilliant idea to pull No-Longer-Easy-E’s rollerblades out of the back of the garage and to strap them onto the feet of my 61 year old mother. I won’t lie; she put up a bit of resistance at first, but quickly realized that a broken hip would secure her a much longer stay in sunny Florida; as she was slated to leave on a jet plane back to the blistery north the following day.

As I climbed past the random assortment of cob web covered sporting goods we have sitting in our garage, I nearly knocked over momma’s beach bicycle which I have been meaning to put training wheels on. My pause to stabilize the bike should have provided enough time to think back to her describing the not one, but two separate wrecks she has had on it….and in turn to realize her lack of stability on a bicycle might just transfer to rollerblades. Nay. I continued my progression to the back of our cluttered garage and within ten minutes I was attempting haphazardly to pull her out of her beach chair and get her up on 8 wheels.

I don't know that she ever actually rollerbladed that day, it was more like a guided tour of my driveway on wheels; pushing and sometimes pulling interrupted by noises like "whoooooo!", intermittent cursing, and flailing arms reminiscent of a someone who doesn't know how to swim getting tossed in the deep end.

In the end there was only one close call. After which I was yelled at for pinching the back of her arm when deep down we both know she should have been thanking me for saving her from a broken hip and fractured skull. But hey, who am I to complain, the next day she was off to the airport with both femurs moving just how they should be in perfectly sound hips.