Over the weekend we had a birthday party for the younger Secret. We’d previously made a vow to not engage in such a thing, ever again. But you know how the memory of pain fades over time…
A local skating rink sets up a dozen or so inflatable bounce houses, or moonwalks, or whatever you choose to call them. And the things are huge. One is probably two stories tall, and features a so-called slide that sends kids hurtling end-over-end in a terrifying free-fall. Yeah, it’s a slide like jumping off a bridge is a slide…
So, that’s where we (Toney) opted to hold this extravaganza, and I must admit, it wasn’t bad. I was braced for the worst, but got something a little better than that.
The ten or twelve hooligans wore themselves down to a smoldering nub, atop and inside the inflatable compound fracture chambers. So, by the time we had real interaction with them, they were sapped of most of their maniacal energy. It worked out well for everyone.
For fifteen dollars a head the kids got to play for an hour, and we had a “party room” for an additional sixty minutes. There, the younglings were served pizza, chips, and soda by the staff. We brought a cake (the only outside food allowed), and gift bags for everyone. It went remarkably well.
A few observations, however…
The party rooms are nondescript cinderblock affairs, and they tried to dress them up by splattering paint all over the walls, and hanging streamers from the ceilings. And the splattered paint, which was mostly red, made it look like a family had been hatcheted-up in there; it was like the scene of a grisly murder.
Festive!
And the cheese on that “pizza” adhered to my teeth like Super Glue. I’d never encountered such a thing. I asked Toney if she was having the same problem, and she couldn’t answer because she was struggling like a cocker spaniel with a Kraft caramel. I don’t know what kind of cheese that was, but have a feeling it was created in a laboratory somewhere. Probably New Jersey.
One kid gave the Secret a card with a gift certificate inside, and had drawn a bunch of stuff on the envelope. I pointed at a confusing rendering of an animal, and asked if it was a turkey or a chicken. And he said, “It’s a turkey, dummy. Can’t you see the gobble?”
Dummy?! I didn’t much care for that. And what the hell’s a gobble?
The whole place felt like one gigantic petri dish to me. I worry that I’m slowly turning into one of those freaky germophobes, who open doors with handkerchiefs, and perform complicated jujitsu moves in order to flush urinals with their feet. But I can’t help it. It’s a new paranoia coming into bloom.
Plus, the older Secret jumped the gun and handed out gift bags before we’d intended. Among other things there was a rubber ball inside each of them, and we didn’t want the kids playing with them until they were outside our jurisdiction. But, because somebody couldn’t follow the rules, projectiles were sailing through the air for the last ten minutes, and one ended up inside a pitcher of Sprite. Good times.
But overall, it turned out to be one of the better such parties we’ve experienced. Oh, we’ve hosted a few full-on fiascos in the past… I highly recommend the concept of wearing everyone out, before sitting down for cake. I really do.
Afterwards, the four of us went to Ret Lopster for dinner. The birthday boy was allowed to choose the restaurant, and he likes to deconstruct crab legs with tools.
As usual, I had the New York strip, since I don’t really care for crustaceans and creatures from the ocean floor… But this time it had a ribbon of fat running through it. It’s the first time I’ve had anything other than an excellent steak there; they’re usually shockingly good.
Also, I had a Sam Adams Winter Lager, and it wasn’t as kick-ass as I remember it from last year. It was only OK, instead of outstanding.
I didn’t say it out loud, but it seemed like everything was mildly disappointing during that meal. And I’m glad I kept it to myself, because everyone else seemed perfectly happy.
A few observations, however…
There was a party seated near us that featured a pair of breathtakingly ugly women. One had a white streak running through the middle of her hair, like a skunk, and was apparently wearing some sort of radical lift-bra. Her cleavage was riding high and exploding out the top of her shirt. Toney said it looked like she had them sitting on a shelf, and that pretty much sums it up.
I guess she was trying to compensate for the fact she had a face like former Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill? I just don’t know.
Behind them was another large party, with an older gentleman at the head of the table. And at one point the old guy slammed down his knife and fork, and yelled, “So what did I do now?! What did I do wrong this time?!?” He was screaming it, and caused the whole place to go silent.
Everybody else at the table shushed him, and he reared his head way back and shouted, “Jeeeesus Christ!” But I think they got him under control after that; there were no more outbursts.
And while we were leaving we walked past the hostess stand in the front of the restaurant. Several employees, all apparently teenagers, were standing there talking. When we passed by, one of them said, “…and he was totally wearing tighty-whities. I was so embarrassed!”
Yeah, I have no idea… We just went home, opened up a cuppa two tree Magic Hat Hocus Pocus ales, and gave thanks for it being over. The Secret had a good day, I think, and we walked away unscathed. Somewhat poorer, but unharmed.
And that’s a triumph, my friends.
Lew in Bama,
Hell yeah Rite Aid sells beer up here! No one can touch their prices on 30-pak’s of the good stuff. By good stuff of course I mean Milwaukees Best, Busch, and occasionally Natural Light. When I’m not trying to stock up my fridge, I usually get 6-ers of tall cans, preferably PBR, but Busch will suffice.
I think I developed a taste for the stuff back in high school, and never outgrew it. I’m not so much of a fan of ice beers any more, not worth the headache.
And yes, I’ll still occasionally pick up a 40oz of something really classy and sit down and drink it.
I’m salivating thinking about a 40 of Hurricane Ice right now.
That steak you had at Red Lobster was covered with Germs from the chick with the push-up bra. When you were distracted by the ‘loud mouth fork slammer’ she put your steak between her ‘melons’ and took two deep breaths.
if all you motherfuckers were TRULY hungry, you’d fuckin’ eat it.
Christ, it’s bad enough I leave work in a foul mood, but once I get home, and try to find some relief in updated levity, I stumble across the Shiny Rod and Jason Show discussing the merits of finer dining.
Fish with the head on? It’s still fish……….
Oysters, mussels and claims filter shit water 24/7 and they are still delicious with drawn butter, horseradish and hot sauce.
Crab and Lobster? Bring that shit on and pass me a dry towel while I get my feed on.
Oh……
Apologies to everyone, all around.
Sorry. Pardon my mini-outburst……. mea culpa
Back to the topic of juvenile birthday parties……
now that both my secrets are 20 and 15 respectfully, the days of the hell raising , hell bent birfday parties are over.
I’ve suffered through several where I’m surprised the parents retrieving their younglings from said soiree didn’t find me outside, slumped against the wall of “Happy Fun-Land”, bleeding fatally from self inflicted lacerations imposed upon the basilic and cephalic veins.
(Google it)
i worked at happy times family fun center in warrenton PA for 2 weeks that places sucked !!! (to work at)
it had a 4 story hamster like tubular play thing, an indoor go-cart track, video games, skeeball,all kinds of fun stuff for kids. It served pizza with plastic (?) cheese on it and PB&J sammies in small 12X12 cells that we had for parties.
I hated working there, but I loved playing in the hamster tubes !
Brandy,
You’re so right about carnival food, and I know you love it (right?) My third rule is that if someone with several missing teeth hands me something on a stick I’m eating it. It’s a rule that has served me well. My first rule is that I don’t do autographs. Nobody has ever asked, but if they do, I’ll say, NO! My second rule is going to stay tucked into my pocket until another day.
And you don’t have to try to spell it. I know just what you mean. “boy-elled” or some shit like that. I’ve heard it a lot of times. Damn coonasses.
JCIII,
You’re usually so calm, so I was shocked by your outburst. Nevertheless, I have thick skin. Take it out on me if you want. I just want you to feel better. But I must say, I refuse to eat sea roaches from this day hence. Refuse!
I guess I’ll be the last poster for a while. I’d like to pick on Cajuns, if it’s okay with nobody.
Jesus Christ, Cajuns, you eat bugs that have been in a river of piss and things of that nature. You’re barely house trained! Sucking heads and whatnot – the very idea! Stopit! Just stopit! For God’s sake!
JCIII,
I think you might be a closet cajun. Stop that! Find Jesus.
Just kidding. I get a kick out of saying absurd and offensive things. Makes me happy.
Micky Mouse sells paint. Did yall know that? Doubt it. But rilly, he does. I have a dozen or so samples from Home Depot. Check it out. It’s Disney by Behr. And the samples are stickers. God, kill me because what else is there?
“struggling like a cocker spaniel with a Kraft caramel. ”
Priceless!
In the “on the road” days we had a mascot cocker spaniel named “Roadie”. He was a big fan of Peanut Butter, this dog would make Gene Simmons look toungless. Roadie probably could have licked his ass without turning his head.
well i WAS first. the counter said ‘zero’. i posted and the counter said ‘one’. then suddenly im bumped down to friggen, what; 32? well fine then. just…..fine.
all I can say is I’m glad mine are well past the age of needing to engage in the whole lucullan birthday ‘mommy one-upmanship’ extravaganza thing. GOD how i hated it. cooling your heels for an hour with a bunch of broads in sweater sets with not thought one in their heads that didn’t involve television or their precious angels….while the precious angels themselves screamed themselves into pre-verbal hysteria in the ball pit. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
I agree with Juancho about stone crab legs being superior to lobster. In a former career, I worked on a lobster boat out of Islesford, Me., and had all the free lobster I cared to eat, but I came to appreciate the stone crabs that occassionally stumbled into the traps as possessing a superior quality of bottom feeder flesh. But those bad boys were harder to handle than lobbies and could leave scars on your hands if they managed to give you a crusher claw handshake. Locals said the old-timers used lobsters exclusively for fertilzer.
Totally agree that kid b-day parties should happen anywhere NOT at home. The current classic is the movie and pizza party, which has the added bonus of the kids being in a dark place confined to their seats for 90+ minutes.
Had a friend who, every year, had gigantic parties for her kids. She would have some monstrous fun attraction in the yard (bounce house, RENTED ponies, whatever), have a dozen pizzas delivered, and show the adults where the beer cooler was. There’d be about 20 kids running around yelling and sweating, and a bunch of happy Moms and Dads hanging out swilling brews. Proof that beer makes EVERYTHING better.
PS – Meant to say that the one exception to the ‘no parties at home’ rule was that one friend. Everyone else I knew back in the day of young kids’ parties opted for McDs or Chuckies as a means of staying sane. It’s worth the money to get out of having to do all that damage control at home.
I’m going to get a cookie cake at the mall. That’s the plan.
Jason, would you pick me up one, too?
I remember the good old days when we would get an update everyday in a timely manner. Those were good times.
I was just wondering if I’d mentioned that I think a WVSR long sleeve shirt would be a nice addition to my wardrobe.
Tadpolegal – Mine as well! Can’t have too many long-sleeved WVSR tees, now can we?
Oh wait. We don’t have ANY, because they don’t come that way. Thus, I am sad.
“she couldn’t answer because she was struggling like a cocker spaniel with a Kraft caramel…”
Priceless! I smear a hunk of peanut butter on my dog’s nose from time to time just for the entertainment. Well….not really, he’s pretty spoiled and he enjoys the heck out of it too…
tiff-
Maybe if we asked Jeff REALLY NICELY to check into
the situation he would oblige…
Jeff- buddy, ole pal what do ya think?
If you upload the new shirt artwork to cafepress, you can get it on just about anything you want… wvsr thong underwear even!
Give it up Tadpolegal – my lobbying for a pocket-T has been for naught.
I need some new thong underwear. I’m starting to wear these fishnet thong underwear out.
where the hell is Charley West???
Most cell phones are designed to be power cycled daily(turn off for 20 seconds and turn back on) this helps them download updates and most likely log your curent location as well as what your doing ( remember those things the old timers would make you go blind) anyhoo, if the phone doesnt get a rest after some time they tend to develop errors such as keeping display lights on and other non power saving functions that are supposed to happen on the regular. the shirts look great! i will have to pick up some OT and get me one. if your interested in price comparison for longsleeves/hoodies etc check out http://www.loiterink.com/, the owners name is Mike and hes a great guy who is building this thing from the ground up down in colorado springs. Also, do you plan on producing any WVSR banana hammocks? how about speedos? I am planning my summer wardrobe so please do tell.