On Saturday we went to a cookout, with people I barely know. It had something to do with the older Secret’s swim team, but not the full team, just a sliver of it. Who the hell knows? When it starts to get confusing like that, I commence to daydreaming about corndogs.
But I was dreading the shindig all day. I’m not really a chitchat kinda guy, and was afraid I’d be the only unfamiliar face, and therefore the center of too much attention. Not really a fan…
And, as is so often the case, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I had it pictured. Everyone was nice, there was beer, and the food was good. Why do I always imagine a complete disaster? It’s always horrible in my head, with me saying something stupid that causes tears and/or fist fights, etc. Oh well.
A few random notes from the evening:
I ate something called a sausage burger. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I hadn’t. It looked like a hamburger patty, but was, in fact, some sort of sausage. Very tasty, but greasy.
The two slices of melted cheese on top probably conspired with the patty to shave twelve hours off the back-end of my life, but what do I care? I mean, seriously. At an awkward cookout in some stranger’s backyard, you’ve gotta live for today, maaan.
It was a BYOB event, and we contributed 12 Saranac Pale Ales to the community chest. One or two guys had them, but not many. Most opted for the Coors Light, and the Miller Lite, and other beers made for people who don’t really like beer.
After it was over Toney whispered, “Should we take our Saranacs home with us, or would that be too Costanza?” You can probably guess how I handled that situation. Two bottles clanked together in my Wal-Mart bag as we were saying our goodbyes…
Is it wrong to take your rejected beers home with you?
A little five year old girl, who I’d never met in my life, kept poking my gut, like I’m the Pillsbury Doughboy. Every time she walked past, she pushed her right pointer finger into my stomach.
Toney thought this was a riot, which only exacerbated the situation. I saw some guy snickering behind a brownie the size of a deck of cards.
A woman kept starting all her statements with “Not for nothing, but…” The more margaritas she polished off, the more she said it.
And what the hell does it mean, anyway? Not for nothing? I don’t understand what those three words mean, when strung together. Can someone help me out, please?
I now have roughly five thousand mosquito bites on my arms and legs. And there’s one on a part of my body I could only see if I were to stand naked on a mirror. Which rarely happens…
There was a big Marmaduke-style dog there, foraging for food and wandering around freely. A couple of girls, probably twelve years old, started playing with it in the back yard, and things got out of control.
The hound was getting all worked-up, and kept trying to hump the girls. The owner knocked the thing away every time, but was trying to keep it quiet, and unnoticed by the oblivious adults.
But I kept watching, and was starting to get mildly concerned. I mean, that thing was determined. And the last couple of times the dog was shoved away, it walked around hump-backed for a few minutes, like an upside-down U.
Nothing good was going to come from this…
And finally, one of the girls was standing in the middle of Adult Circle, asking her mother something — when the Perverted Marmaduke came charging out of nowhere. He jumped up on the girl, wrapped his front legs around her, and started going to town like it was prom night. Right there, in front of everyone.
The dog was roughly the same height as the horrified sixth grader, and I heard someone scream, “JESUS CHRIST!” Lawn chairs turned over, people came running from every direction, and someone knocked the hound ass-over-tits.
It slunk away all hump-backed and aroused, and another person said, “Oh dear God in heaven…”
And I know it’s probably not the most mature reaction in the world, but I couldn’t stop laughing for ten solid minutes. I had to take a walk around the property, so I could laugh with my back to the crowd.
I think it was the “JESUS CHRIST!” that sent me over the edge, for some reason.
t-storm — are you talking about your Depends?
Bryn – Sigh….yes. I shouldn’t take Alli before I go to the Cheese-Fest but I love it so much!
That poor girl, OMG will she ever live it down among her friends. I couldn’t even pretend to be mature if someone yelled Jesus Christ and went running over.
Why was the dog named Jesus Christ?
The dog was named Jesus Christ? I assumed Jesus Christ was the girl’s name.
Then who was “Oh dear God in heaven…”? Were there two dogs?
I smirked and chuckled for at least 20 seconds Jeff. That scene would probably have made me apoplectic.
Discretion as the better part of valour describes your hasty retreat to the perimeter. I bet you got your 12 hours back with some cardio laughter!
Greg
Now I’m confused; if the girl was Jesus Christ, then the dog must’ve been Oh Dear God in Heaven. Right?!? Have I missed something? Looks like I picked the wrong week to try and give up gas huffing.
Tilly, your not alone in getting the ‘heebie-jebbies’ from
Mr Bolognas’ paedo-humour.
The reason I don’t believe he is a twelve year old boy is his opening sentence- ‘Here’s my take on the etiquette dilemma’, and if he were a twelve year old boy, opening with that sentence would be even stranger!
Go with your inital reaction.
Your not alone, but I kinda hope that Swami is!
On the ‘ettiquette dilemma’, for me it depends totally on the quality of the hosts.
i.e. If I’ve had a great time and the hosts have been troopers, I leave my beers.
If however the party was really dull and the hosts were terrible, I take my beers and sometimes theirs too, safe in the knowledge that I will never be back!
T. Farty McAppleass…Can’t believe you do that. I wear a shooters vest and load the thing up with a selection of minatures. A row or two of Jack. Same for some Gold and Stoli. The Jajman is there too. I introduce my self as D. Spencer. Pack it in….pack it out. Rule #1 of “Leave no trace”!
Oh…and if that dog had been trying to do that with a boy…they’da shot that dog on the spot.
@ Swami Bologna.
My daughter is high school sophomore. You should see the 15 and 16 year old friends of hers that parade around my house in their underwear. Holy shit.
A few weeks ago, one of her friends was taking a poop with the bathroom door wide open. I happened to walk past and I pretended not to notice that she was in there, and she starts up a conversation like a neighbor leaning on the fence. WTF? Evidently, she is very comfortable here?
Another one changed from shorts and tee shirt in to her swimsuit in my living room while I was in the kitchen 10 feet away. There is no wall or doorway separating the two rooms. I did get a really nice ass shot, buy pretended not to notice what was going on.
Last night, I watched the same girl drop shorts and pee in the middle of my back yard. It was already dark, but they had the patio lights on. Just happened to be looking outside to see how many kids were here eating all my chips and raiding the fridge of all the cola, juice, and whatever else they can find.
I am convinced that all of these kids are nuts.
Hey, guys, I would be much obliged if you could vote for the Beast for me:
http://www.cutestdogcompetition.com/vote.cfm?h=BBCF1EAA594591718982DED307EF722C
Thanks!
If we have company over, we’ll usually have a supply of beer and wine on hand, but I tell people if they have a particular fave, they should bring it. At the end of the evening, we tell them to not forget leftovers and pack it all up for them.
Shiny Rod: Club soda in waffles? Are you kidding? Next you’ll tell me a little gin won’t hurt either…..lol
Knucklehead,
“Louie” is your’s, right?
Hey Knucklehead, I voted – he is darn cute.
Sausage burger makes me think of a sausage mcmuffin which looks disgusting. If it were hot italian sausage with the greased cooked out of it that’d be a different story – yum.
Jeff – I’d be with you on splitting my gut in a similar situation, if I saw someone else doing the same, I would probably be unable to recompose myself and have to leave – later apologizing leaving due to an emergency.
For BYOB, I always leave what I bring unless insisted I take it. If it’s food, I refuse to take it because it is going straight in the garbage if it comes back to my house (not because I’m a bad cook but just generally don’t eat potluck type food at home). I like people to take things when I have people over and would only consider it rude if they were known assholes. Not that assholes are welcome in my house but sometimes friends aren’t thinking clear when they pick dates.
Knucklehead – I won’t remember to vote everyday without a reminder though. I assumed it was Louie because he popped up when I clicked the link.
Yes, Louie is mine. I’ll put a reminder up tomorrow, too
Thanks, guys – I knew I could count on my fellow Surf Reporters!
@ kenju – Now you know I don’t drink gin and I will not waste good scotch on waffles. Actually yes, for Belgian Waffles, use the following ingredients or get a box of Belgian Waffle mix at your local store.
For a Basic Belgian Waffle recipe we will need:
3 1/4 cups (1 lb. — 500g) all purpose flour
one sachet (7g) instant dried yeast
4 medium eggs (you want the egg whites, not the yolk)
whole milk (you can also add some club soda or sparkling mineral water and make them even fluffier)
two sticks (1/2 lb. — 250g) butter
vanilla, sugar and some salt
I’m a beer nazi at these type of events — I bring my own cooler and sit on the fucker so that no one thinks that they’re welcome to my beer. I’ve seen people show up with a sixpack and expect to drink twice that amount. Fuck ’em. I can barely afford my own drinking problem.
Yep, life of the party here…
@Rat Bastard-Need to get one of these motorized coolers, not only will you be perched on top of your beer guarding it from cheapskate lushes but you can also motor away if some dbag sits down next to you and tries to strike up a conversation.
http://search.cartserver.com/search/search.cgi?cartid=a-3439&category=atmaster&maxhits=10&keywords=Motorized&gclid=COCBwaHWm5wCFQktagodglWxhA
You should have hollered “Get Some Marmaduke” when he latched on!!! There is yet another reason to get your dog fixed or buy one of these in Marmaduke size
http://gizmodo.com/assets/resources/2007/05/cocker.jpg
@WB in OH — that would be perfect if it had a 2-stroke gas engine. Blast ’em with burnt castor bean oil as you make your escape.
@Rat Bastard-I didn’t realize you were that vindictive, just get this model!
http://www.coolerfun.com/All-Terrain-Cooler-31cc-Gas-4-Stroke-p/at-31.htm?gclid=CJyXtdjkm5wCFRIcawodG0W_dQ
Stay thirsty my friend!
Oh shit it’s a four stroke, dammit!
Knucklehead: Louie got my vote!
HEY THE ONLY ERROLITE I AM GLAD IT WAS NOT JUST ME. OF COURSE I CAN BE A TAD OPINIONATED SO I HAVE TO WATCH MYSELF.
@HARDOXDAN- UHM SOMEONE, PERHAPS AN OLDER MAN THAT THESE GIRLS ARE CLEARLY COMFORTABLE WITH, SHOULD TEACH THEM A LESSON ABOUT BOUNDARIES BEFORE THEY WIND UP AT A SLEEPOVER WITH SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T HAVE SELF CONTROL.
@ TILLY – No shouting please!
@SHINY ROD- i work in a program all day that must be all caps. sorry!!!
@ Rat Bastard and WB in OH – Thats not a cooler, this is a motorized beer cooler. You pull up in this you won’t have to worry about guarding your beer.
http://media.photobucket.com/image/budweiser%20trucks/redbudlane/BudTruck.jpg
@ hardoxdan: Can I come over and hang out sometime?
I did a comic about a friend of mine and his unhealthy attraction to Marmaduke–Brad Anderson has greatly misled the general population about the personality “quirks” of the Great Dane. Hilarious, I would’ve stayed and laughed and pointed. Dog people know thier dogs, no one under 5 feet allowed around Bowzer, hes…really…friendly?
Now playing in the bunker…I KNEW you’d be an NRBQ man!! The Q rules!
The boy and i almost never get invited to things, we are bad guests and the small fry is much too small to have friends we are forced to hang with so no worries there, but in the event we are invited to a gathering of the BYOB kind we will BYOB 1 beer apiece less than we intend on drinking, the we can scroung off the others for that night cap and our fine drinks don’t go to waste. In the event that the boy will not be drinking for whatever reason i just like to get fairly toasted as I’m gettting ready, just like in High School it cuts down on the prinping time (‘cuz after a few i look freekin HOT! and am therefore ready to go!) and if I jsut pack a beer or two then no worries!