"A World in White Gets Underway"
You know, I'm not really the biggest U2 fan anymore, but it occurs to me I have now utilized their lyrics not once, nor twice, but indeed thrice for post titles. Curious......
Well enough of that blathering blatherskite, it's time for blogging!
Happy thought of the day: Jack Abramoff getting to know his new buddies in the yard. Drop the soap Jack. Drop the soap.
Well my droogs, as promised to you on Tuesday last [Editor's Note: Yesterday for the non-pretentious bastards.] I am now writing of my own personal New Year's Day here in Year of 38% of the world's lord 2006.
Last we left, the lovely Brook and I had enjoyed a delightful time at a party hosted by friends Amy, Liz and Anne. Drinks were drank, songs were sung, laughs were laughed and good times were...gooded? No we'll just go with good times were had.
So the next morning started out a bit later in the day than might normally be the case. Excepting this was, of course, Sunday so maybe the day started exactly when it should have. Anyway...you know I digress quite a bit. Is it distracting for you, dear readers? or perhaps just reader? or maybe even just me? Whatev.
Our plans for that Sunday began with a nice lunch with two dear old friends of mine, Randolph and Keri (a.k.a. The Big O). Randy and I have been boyz since back in the day in St. Chuck, so seeing him and his long-time lady friend was a nice holiday treat. And Brook was finally able to see me around friends outside a party atmosphere. You follow me here? I love hanging with my peeps at parties, but you really can't be yourself. Randolph are pals from way back so this was a nice relaxing experience.
Lunch was had at the new Olde Heidelberg. Interesting sidenote here, I have actually been to Heidelberg, Germany. I used to have this great bumper sticker from the University of Heidelberg. But then I killed that car. I mean I killed it dead. I also killed the car in front of me and the car in front of that car. I miss that car....and the sticker.
So yes, lunch, that's where we were. I had a vegetarian wrap, which I am pleased to say, was quite good. The real entertainment came from Randy and his salad. I think it was a grilled chicken salad, with raspberry vinaigrette dressing, but that's sort of incidental to the story. Randy went on a bit about how much he wanted a salad, with pepper on it. So he got his salad, put some pepper on it, and proceeded to take great care in the cutting of the bits o' chicken and the large lettuce leaves. Finally, after all this preparation, he ate like 9 bites.
Other entertainment was provided by the Kansas City Chiefs. Now, I hate the Chiefs. Not like I hate Jack Abramoff, but sort of like how I hate Newt Gingrich. However, Brook is a Chiefs enthusiast, so for this one day I became a Chiefs fan also. The Chiefs flat out whacked the Bengals in this game and Larry Johnson continued to show he may be the best running back in football. Sorry LT. Oh, and Priest....I'd put that house on the market buddy. As long as Johnson doesn't end up in jail, where he belongs, for beating up on the ladies this job is his for a long time coming.
Also, little bit of love to Dick Vermeil. I hate the way you left the Rams, but you're a good guy. *Tear*
So the last couple of paragraphs might have been a little superfluous, but I sort of enjoy that kind of thing.
So everybody got along well, which is good as Randy is one of my oldest and best friends, I love the Big O and well...I Love the lovely Brook.
It was an especially nice day weather wise in town on the 1st, so Brook and I took opportunity to walk around downtown for a bit before heading back to mid-Missouri's smallest apartment. Here we watched a couple of episodes of Arrested Development, which afforded me the opportunity to, once again, bemoan the replacement of the original Marta while at the same time basking in the comedic glory that are Buster and Gob.
There was, however, a storm brewing. Off in the horizon...danger approached. It came westward and carried with it a hint of....disaster. This looming presence....my parents.
Yes Mom and Dad were coming to town. Now, it's worth mentioning I love my parents. I really do. And I set up their coming to town as I wanted them to meet Brook. Now this is noteworthy as the lovely Brook is the first ladyfriend I've had in which I sought out a meeting between she and the parents. That all said, my parents are...well they're parents. And parents, according to Webster, are, in fact, nuts. Not actual nuts like pecans or cashews, but nuts as in crazy, like Nader voters.
So I approached this meeting with trepidation. On top of all this, I decided today would be the day Ma & Pa would see all of my tattoos. See, friends, based on their reactions to the first four or 5 inkings, I took it upon myself to conceal my subsequent body art. This came less from fear of their reaction toward me, but rather more from their capacity to internalize. Let's break it down ACT-style:
Tattoos are to bad parenting as No Tattoos are to ______
A. Albuquerque
B. Green
C. Laissez faire
D. Good Parenting
The answer there, of course, would be "D" if you're my parents and either "A", "B", or "C" if you enjoy living life in the abstract.
[Editor's Note: For a full description of the author's tattoos, please reference the previous post entitled I Ink Therefore I Am.]
Turns out, naturally, I need not have worried. My folks took us out for dinner at Addison's, where I'd never eaten before but quite enjoyed. Brook was her usual charming and engaging self and had my Moms gushing on a subsequent phone call. Dad was his usual quiet, sort of stoic self, which Brook initially interpreted as some sort of perpetual anger. I informed her many have made a similar miscalculation and Dad was just being Dad.
Oooh, earlier in the day we all went to Streetside Records. Brook made the wise purchase of a cd from the Faint, while mother foolishly scoffed at my musical tastes prior to her purchase of a cd from Gary Puckett and the Union Gap. Yup, Ma....the bad taste is totally on this side of the table.
So all in all, a most successful day. As few things were open on the 1st, Ma & Pa took leave shortly after dinner. Brook and I settled in for our last night together for awhile. We had some more Cold Duck and sampled a little of Andre's Strawberry as well. Andre...you are a friend.
We watched a few more episodes of Arrested Development and about half of Series 7: The Contenders. A film which, by the by, is friggin' sweet.
We did not have opportunity to watch either Blood Simple or Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, so Brook borrowed them to watch on her own. If there were any doubts as to her coolness, I hope that last sentence silenced them all.
So that was New Year's Day. There are some stories from the day after worth telling, but this post is already too long. So stay tuned fans for tales of live bait and Italian sausage.
Well enough of that blathering blatherskite, it's time for blogging!
Happy thought of the day: Jack Abramoff getting to know his new buddies in the yard. Drop the soap Jack. Drop the soap.
Well my droogs, as promised to you on Tuesday last [Editor's Note: Yesterday for the non-pretentious bastards.] I am now writing of my own personal New Year's Day here in Year of 38% of the world's lord 2006.
Last we left, the lovely Brook and I had enjoyed a delightful time at a party hosted by friends Amy, Liz and Anne. Drinks were drank, songs were sung, laughs were laughed and good times were...gooded? No we'll just go with good times were had.
So the next morning started out a bit later in the day than might normally be the case. Excepting this was, of course, Sunday so maybe the day started exactly when it should have. Anyway...you know I digress quite a bit. Is it distracting for you, dear readers? or perhaps just reader? or maybe even just me? Whatev.
Our plans for that Sunday began with a nice lunch with two dear old friends of mine, Randolph and Keri (a.k.a. The Big O). Randy and I have been boyz since back in the day in St. Chuck, so seeing him and his long-time lady friend was a nice holiday treat. And Brook was finally able to see me around friends outside a party atmosphere. You follow me here? I love hanging with my peeps at parties, but you really can't be yourself. Randolph are pals from way back so this was a nice relaxing experience.
Lunch was had at the new Olde Heidelberg. Interesting sidenote here, I have actually been to Heidelberg, Germany. I used to have this great bumper sticker from the University of Heidelberg. But then I killed that car. I mean I killed it dead. I also killed the car in front of me and the car in front of that car. I miss that car....and the sticker.
So yes, lunch, that's where we were. I had a vegetarian wrap, which I am pleased to say, was quite good. The real entertainment came from Randy and his salad. I think it was a grilled chicken salad, with raspberry vinaigrette dressing, but that's sort of incidental to the story. Randy went on a bit about how much he wanted a salad, with pepper on it. So he got his salad, put some pepper on it, and proceeded to take great care in the cutting of the bits o' chicken and the large lettuce leaves. Finally, after all this preparation, he ate like 9 bites.
Other entertainment was provided by the Kansas City Chiefs. Now, I hate the Chiefs. Not like I hate Jack Abramoff, but sort of like how I hate Newt Gingrich. However, Brook is a Chiefs enthusiast, so for this one day I became a Chiefs fan also. The Chiefs flat out whacked the Bengals in this game and Larry Johnson continued to show he may be the best running back in football. Sorry LT. Oh, and Priest....I'd put that house on the market buddy. As long as Johnson doesn't end up in jail, where he belongs, for beating up on the ladies this job is his for a long time coming.
Also, little bit of love to Dick Vermeil. I hate the way you left the Rams, but you're a good guy. *Tear*
So the last couple of paragraphs might have been a little superfluous, but I sort of enjoy that kind of thing.
So everybody got along well, which is good as Randy is one of my oldest and best friends, I love the Big O and well...I Love the lovely Brook.
It was an especially nice day weather wise in town on the 1st, so Brook and I took opportunity to walk around downtown for a bit before heading back to mid-Missouri's smallest apartment. Here we watched a couple of episodes of Arrested Development, which afforded me the opportunity to, once again, bemoan the replacement of the original Marta while at the same time basking in the comedic glory that are Buster and Gob.
There was, however, a storm brewing. Off in the horizon...danger approached. It came westward and carried with it a hint of....disaster. This looming presence....my parents.
Yes Mom and Dad were coming to town. Now, it's worth mentioning I love my parents. I really do. And I set up their coming to town as I wanted them to meet Brook. Now this is noteworthy as the lovely Brook is the first ladyfriend I've had in which I sought out a meeting between she and the parents. That all said, my parents are...well they're parents. And parents, according to Webster, are, in fact, nuts. Not actual nuts like pecans or cashews, but nuts as in crazy, like Nader voters.
So I approached this meeting with trepidation. On top of all this, I decided today would be the day Ma & Pa would see all of my tattoos. See, friends, based on their reactions to the first four or 5 inkings, I took it upon myself to conceal my subsequent body art. This came less from fear of their reaction toward me, but rather more from their capacity to internalize. Let's break it down ACT-style:
Tattoos are to bad parenting as No Tattoos are to ______
A. Albuquerque
B. Green
C. Laissez faire
D. Good Parenting
The answer there, of course, would be "D" if you're my parents and either "A", "B", or "C" if you enjoy living life in the abstract.
[Editor's Note: For a full description of the author's tattoos, please reference the previous post entitled I Ink Therefore I Am.]
Turns out, naturally, I need not have worried. My folks took us out for dinner at Addison's, where I'd never eaten before but quite enjoyed. Brook was her usual charming and engaging self and had my Moms gushing on a subsequent phone call. Dad was his usual quiet, sort of stoic self, which Brook initially interpreted as some sort of perpetual anger. I informed her many have made a similar miscalculation and Dad was just being Dad.
Oooh, earlier in the day we all went to Streetside Records. Brook made the wise purchase of a cd from the Faint, while mother foolishly scoffed at my musical tastes prior to her purchase of a cd from Gary Puckett and the Union Gap. Yup, Ma....the bad taste is totally on this side of the table.
So all in all, a most successful day. As few things were open on the 1st, Ma & Pa took leave shortly after dinner. Brook and I settled in for our last night together for awhile. We had some more Cold Duck and sampled a little of Andre's Strawberry as well. Andre...you are a friend.
We watched a few more episodes of Arrested Development and about half of Series 7: The Contenders. A film which, by the by, is friggin' sweet.
We did not have opportunity to watch either Blood Simple or Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, so Brook borrowed them to watch on her own. If there were any doubts as to her coolness, I hope that last sentence silenced them all.
So that was New Year's Day. There are some stories from the day after worth telling, but this post is already too long. So stay tuned fans for tales of live bait and Italian sausage.
posted by The Crazy Leftist at 7:35 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home