the conflagration wrap up, or how flamingweasel learned to stop worrying and hate his stomach
i blame mojoe
The soiree' was in full swing.
The candlelight was just right, the hi-fi was in the background, and the wine was delicious. (
mmm...it does go well with the chicken) Well, except for the wine, of which there was none.
The evening so far had been quite entertaining. Dinner was delicious (too bad I was still full from a late lunch -- but that meant more for the quantum singularity in Pseudo_Intellectual's stomach). The Church of Elvis was, uh, wack, but in a good way. I got a bunch of really neat-o 'zines. Fun was had by all. We were engrossed in a rousing game of Eat Poop you Cat (Note: this does not necessarily mean we are causing the cat to eat cat poop. Any type of poop will do.) My mix cd was a hit with at least some of the noders (Dialogue offered to make love to my taste in music, which I can only assume is a good thing), despite the rumah sakit song which appeared to bother some of the posse.
Then, moJoe and his entertaining friend Osarch (look, just do everyone a favor and pronounce it "Ozark", like the mountains, 'cause everyone except for him apparently prounounces it completely wrong when they try to say it like he says it) brought a bottle of my arch-enemy:
Tequila
Evil, in a bottle. You always start shots of tequila thinking, "Okay, just this one and maybe one a little later, 'cause last time I had a bunch..." Yeah, right. I had two in the house, then moseyed out to the porch to discuss very important matters with the people out there -- moJoe, iDeath, Girlface, LordOmar, Dialogue, Prole, and prolly a few others I'm missing.
Then moJoe brings the tequila outside. And encourages, nee forces me to have three more. Once my logic centers were sufficiently anesthetized, I proceeded to have a bunch of beers, and...
i blame mojoe
Well, I haven't been this sick in years.
Yow. Had to take off from
the Funhouse early because I was officially
no fun being sick every 20 minutes. Still, it took me about 3 hours longer than it should have to get back to
Sea-town, what with all the short naps, and
stops on
offramps and
rest stops.
Anyway....I'm a bit better now -- these saltines and juice are staying down pretty good.
So. Mad props must go out to ideath for dealing with the mob in her house so well, even taking a little time to throw a blanket on me when I had laid down on my part of the floor. Send her cash prizes, in small unmarked non-sequential bills, c/o the Funhouse. Ah, what the heck:
I blame moJoe
yes, i was joking about mojoe. he's a cool guy -- i'm a dumbass.
pictures, yo: http://www.flamingweasel.com/hornycon/