Ding! Wow.
Ouch and then some.
The ill effects of Friday and Saturday have found me. Sore and tired, bags and bags and bags under my tender brown eyes. Well worth it. Well worth it.
If anything, I know how to make the last half of a day (and/or technically the early mornings of the next) count for something. After wasting yet another day working, I finally got to have some fun Friday around 9pm. Beige Sugar and Snow White were down with the Bubba Ho-Tep scene so we kicked it down to the Eastside. Before we settled into full movie watching mode, Kroger had to be visited for food and festivities. There a strapping young bald man joined us, Mr. Clean, and I purchased my new best friend, a giant tub of cheese flavored balls (i.e. Cheesy Poofs). We headed to Snow's mother-in-law retro home, crossing the world's deadliest porch in the process.
At first, there was a jumble of comotion, phone calls made and answered, sweet tea and pizza being prepared, and gifts unveiled and distributed. Ooo, and lest I forget, I got to enjoy the Automatic Dance Machine that Snow calls exercise equipment. Well, once settled the four of us began attacking some Mad Libs. After the first hilarious installment where nouns and verbs and adjective were a-plenty, Sugar departed for an hour to handle an urgent call while Mr. Clean, Snow and myself (who like God remains nameless), got to work on some more. Good times. Good clean fun.
Finally the lights were dimmed and the movie rolled. I can't say enough about this movie but I'm not saying anything else.
We took a smoke break before the climatic wheel-chair centric ending, and after it was all said and done, had a post-hanging out cigarette reminicent of how people smoke to unwind after sex. The world's deadliest porch finally claimed me, in part, as a victim. I escaped serious physical injury but rest assured that the mental and emotional damage has been done. Sugar took me to my truck and investigated the whereabouts of people who lurked in the dark on a porch.
Since I was scheduled to do a lot of driving and moving furniture the next day, I did not plan to be out much later. After all, it was 1am at this point. However, I had promised my appearance downtown to say some goodbyes to Old Faithful who is leaving the mid-state for Colorado. What happened is that I ended up seeing the sun rise from the parking lot of the Washington Memorial Library.
I had not planned on drinking either as it would have made me more tired and possibly drunk. But you see, there was the worst band on stage when I arrived and out of a purely defensive measure, I ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. But I had nothing after that for a couple of hours. Instead, I enjoyed the thinning crowd until all who were present were good friends and close acqaintences (sp?).
Somehow, outside and confessing my undying love for Old Faithful, I rekindled my church song leading days and had the crowd outside joining me for rounds of Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer. It would be a full song service as we shifted to Warrant, the Beastie Boys and Whitney Houston. I swung and danced and dipped some ladies. Big Round (who will soon be referred to only as Skateboard Thunder) rode with me to Krystal's on the way to Dirty D's house where an after party was taking place. On the way, BR and I discussed our common natures and philosophies on singing the blues.
We parked at the Washington Memorial Library where everyone -- for the most part -- was sitting outside. One scrawny fella was puking and doing so as proudly as he could, somehow managing to get some on his shorts behind his leg. There was a good bit of hanging out outside before the party moved in.
I grabbed what appeared to me to be my very own Killian and sat with Round and Stick 2000 where we began leading others in choruses of cheers. The rebel rousing toasts ranged from the very normal "To drinking!" to "I sat on a knife and now my butt is really sore!"
Then a skateboard caught Round's attention and he said, "Watch this!" He powered his way through the mingling masses and started showing off his array of tricks. The skateboard spun parallel to the ground and Round came down on top of it. A loud snap resounded through the apartment and laughter followed. Round stood in the middle of a broken skateboard red with happiness. When things died down, he admitted he's always wanted to do that and there I christened him Skateboard Thunder.
"What does Red Stripe taste like?" I asked, answering myself, "Like beer?"
Some NOFX song that everyone there but me liked was on the radio. Manical dancing spread like a disease. I did my best to imitate Thunder who was charging through the living room with his arms swinging madly like a pissed off Donkey Kong who had somewhere to be. Stick 2000 was skanking, I remembered what it looked like after an awkward collision with ska back in Nashville. Others moshed and thrashed about. I tried to start a fight but apparently punk music makes them cheerful.
Hmmm... a can of Natty Light? Don't mind if I do.
Quiet time arrived and people were just talking. I grew restless. I challenged the crowd to a fight of wrestling. Only Old Faithful took me up on it. While I dismantled her assaults, two other ladies joined in, Sweet T and Strawberry Shortcake. In moments I inhereited the reincarnation of Andy Kaufmann on my way to the Inner City Intergender Championship. I had a pile of young women on the floor at which I laughed repeatedly. To their credit, they never gave up and to spell my demise, inacted a plan to topple me.
Faithful came at me first and knelt behind me while Sweet T attacked my torso. When I fell over Faithful with T on top, Shortcake came from nowhere like Jimmy "the Superfly" Snuka and landed a flying knee to my crotch. They won. I rolled in pain for a while then resisted the temptation to puke on the floor.
I sat for a while, things were calm. The night inched closer to day and I realized there wouldn't be sleep for me. I feigned like I was going home, requesting my keys and walking out in my socks. Faithful followed begging me not to leave and offering to make out. I confessed I wasn't leaving but rather grabbing some shorts from the truck so I could enjoy a level of coolness that my jeans weren't affording me.
Instead I laid down for a minute in the bed of my truck, watching the sky get lighter and breathing in the refreshing outdoor air. Faithful joined me, cuddled a little and talked. Then Sweet T jumped aboard, soon followed by Stick and Dre. In moments Skateboard Thunder and Dirty D was there too. All of us in the back of my truck, mass molestation and the crushing of smaller people. It was the most unsightly orgy known to man. And all I wanted was to sleep out there. Granted, the hard plastic bed liner wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but the way it felt outside more than excused that one complaint.
Things went from peaceful to insane in seconds. Sweet T was wearing the snap-button pants soccer players use and while everyone was shifting about -- some of them leaving the truck -- her pants were mercilessly ripped from her person leaving nothing but a woman in her shirt and panties. This violation was followed by more laughter and all the king's men couldn't put those pants back together again. Especially since I'd randomly go by and unsnap things again.
But being the good guy I am, I offered an unused disposable jumpsuit. She refused but Stick took it. He of the mohawk and freckles was adorned like a post-apocolyptic Ghostbuster and drew the envy of Faithful who I soon gave the other jumpsuit to. T got jealous and started chasing the two of them in just her shirt which she was struggling to keep over her panties. I lit a cigar and enjoyed the ridiculous show. As we all did.
Day broke and we calmed down. T stomped off and a cop showed up. What's the problem officer? Most of us were sober, no one had any alcohol and we looked fairly respectable at this point. The cop was cool, asked if were were fighting and we proved we weren't by saying, "No." He left, and we went inside.
A search for Sweet T ensued because she'd taken to running through the streets. Faithful and Dre found her but she took off like a bolt for her car, hopped in and sped away. Weird-o.
The rest of us were settled in the living room watching Bubba Ho-Tep. Fifteen minutes into it, Thunder had to go so I gave him a ride to his CaddyLack and on the way back, saw a lady opening up Joshua Cup. The smart move would have been to get a cup of coffee, sit around until it kicked in, say my goodbyes to those snoring and otherwise asleep, then go.
After all, I was supposed to be up by 8am anyway and getting dressed so I could pick up my Pops to take us to Athens. Instead, I said to myself, "I'll set the alarm on my cell phone for thirty minutes from now and then I'll go."
When the phone went off, it was actually a phone call. Dad. "Hey," I said, pretending to be so very awake, "What's going on?" It was a quarter to 9am.
"I called you at the house twice, you getting up?!"
"Yeah, yeah.. I'll be leaving in a little bit."
I rolled back over in the chair and got up in fifteen minutes, grabbing my movie and sundry items along the way. I waved goodbye to the resting, told Faithful I'd see her later and split. At the Joshua Cup I was like a zombie. I'd prayed that that poor gal behind the bar would get some help from a co-worker so I could get closer to enjoying a steaming hot giant cup of coffee. I also ordered some bagels thinking it'd be a delicious treat.
Finally back home, I showered and gathered a change of clothes (I don't know why), and hit the road for Eatonton. Dad and Jaime called me along the way. I was already an hour behind at this point. Well, I put up with a hefty amount of ribbing. It seems I'm well known for never being anywhere on time. It was playful ribbing.
Dad and I had a good long talk about some impending family drama. When I stopped wanting to be violent, we had a good talk about things. It was nice. It was a good day. The three of us ended up getting some chinese food before we did any moving. On Dad's second trip he got what was labeled Mongolian Beef. I'd already consumed a large amount of it. He took a bite and proclaimed it was liver and that it should be against the law to sell people liver. He also endulged us with other conspiracy theories then and throughout the day.
I wound up being sick after lunch. The food wasn't sitting well and I was damn tired. I took a couple of naps, asked for some tums and they loaded most of everything. I got up and helped with bigger things, threw up and went back for another nap. I felt fine by the time we had to leave for Atlanta.
We got there around 7pm. It was late. I switched into machine mode and went nuts getting things into her apartment. By the way, it's a nice little place. Old and crappy but with that faux bohemian feel that permiates throughout the Highlands.
Finally done, we had to figure out where to take the U-Haul. For three fairly intelligent people, this was the most daunting of tasks. Indecision was the foe. No one wanted to say what we should do. Then I just gave them two options. Since I had to be back in Atlanta Monday anyway, I could take the damn thing back then or we could drop it off at some place we saw off the Interstate. We chose the latter and finally went on our way. I tried sleeping in the backseat since I still had two and a half more hours of road to chew and more rock star partying to do.
They got hungry and I wanted coffee so we hit a Waffle House in Athens. Man, I love my family. We had a good time there and all day. When we finally had to part ways, Dad and I spent the entire trip to his place talking about family. His mom who died when he was 8, Grandaddy Horne, Maga, aunts and uncles. It was a splendid feeling, and a reminder of how good it can be to be Southern.
Finally home at 2:30am, I decided sleep would be best. There we have it. I got up at 1pm today, grabbed a Sam's Choice cola and typed this behemoth. Now I'm going to shower and get dressed. Love me if you can.
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