Manic Monday

Two weeks ago was Hot Vendor Guy's last week in Cleveland. For our last hurrah, we decided to take him to see this new band. They're called The Bangles. Oh by new, I meant 20 years old.

Seriously, you guys. The Bangles. It was Tim (HVG), the Hor, me, Diane, Meg and Jen. That's right-Tim and 5 chicks. That's so fitting for a Bangles concert. We went to happy hour and dinner first where Hor and Tim decided it would be a good time to take up drinking whiskey. We proceeded to call Tim a p*ssy because he wouldn't drink it fast enough. Did I mention he was already like 5 vodka tonics in? We are good friends. I had decided early on to not drink too much so obviously I was wasted by 5:30. Our waitress sucked so bad I actually had to chase her down inside the restaurant and say, "You're our waitress, right? I'm not really sure because I've only seen you once in an hour and a half." Oh yeah what's up. I'm a badass. I'd just like to point out that had I been sober, Diane would've been sent to deal with the waitress issue. Ah-liquid courage.

The concert was at the House of Blues and was one of those standing room only ones which means we were able to get really close because we are pushy and rude. Let me just interject here that The Bangles played an important role in my youth in that they made me want to be in an all girl rock band more than anything. They also made me want to be Susanna Hoffs. For all my obsession with them, I have never actually seen them in concert. So this...this was a big deal, folks. A big, big deal.

When they first came out, I was like, 'Holy shit is this really happening!?' Then I was like, 'Who the eff is that playing bass?' Cuz it was not Michael Steele. Apparently she officially retired from The Bangles 3 years ago. This hurt me personally because it meant that they did not play "September Gurls" which almost made me want to die, but I got over it because Susanna Hoffs is so pretty.

Honestly. She's 48 and looks exactly the same. Tim never knew she was so good looking, and when she came out he was completely speechless. We actually had to leave him alone with his thoughts for a moment. Or as Danielle said when I asked her where Tim was at one point, "He's jackin' it to Susanna Hoffs."

Truth be told all the Bangles look fantastic for their age. And for my age. They were wearing mini skirts and fishnets and looked freaking awesome. I'm 20 years younger than they are and cannot get away with fishnets. No fair.

They sounded absolutely great. Oh my God I wish I was still listening to them. And okay I don't mean to keep harping on this, but seriously Susanna Hoffs is a goddess. Not only is she totally hot, but she is so. effing. cool! No woman looks cooler playing guitar. She kept tossing her hair around so it would be all in her face. If anyone else did that, they would look like they were trying too hard, but when she did it, it was the greatest thing we've ever seen. I don't even know if I can talk about "Eternal Flame". It was fucking amazing. Yeah I used the f-bomb. It was that good. When it was over, Jen turned to us and said, "She just turned me into a lesbian." She turned all of us, Jen. She turned all of us.

At one point, she was playing guitar and twisted down onto her knees to play, and I turned to Tim who was staring on in complete awe, and I was like, "Are you okay?" and he said, "Shhh-don't talk to me right now."

Then the best thing ever in the whole world happened. There was a quiet lull, and I yelled out, "I love you!" (yeah I'm that girl), and Vicki pointed at me and said, "We love you, too!" She said it to me. DIRECTLY TO ME, YOU GUYS. I completely lost my mind. When it was over, I immediately got into my car and started playing the "Different Light" album. Then I got this text from Jen:

"Eternal Flame for Diane and Drew's wedding song!"

You're a genius, Jen!

And, Bangles, it is 20 years later, and I have never wanted to be in a girl rock band more*. You are my heroes!!!

*Does anyone want to start a girl rock band with me? Preferably you'll be able to play guitar, bass or drums since I can't play any of those. I can play clarinet if you want. There's always room for the clarinet in a rock band.

Big news

You guys, I have huge news: Pam from "The Office" is splitting up with her husband in real life.

Okay technically that's not my news. And whether or not it's huge is in the eye of the Office or Non-Office fan. (By the way, Non-Office fans, what is wrong with you?*) I am very sad for Jenna because every time I see her she talks so lovingly about her husband. I'm sure she's devastated. I think she should come on down to Cleveland and have a drink with me and my friends. Come on, Jenna! Next week we are going to Steph's to do crafts and drink wine. You in?

In other news, DJ from "Roseanne" is 25, married and has 2 kids. Something in my life has clearly gone awry. Where did I go wrong, you guys?

Okay now for the real news. Wait but first some comments on current VH1 shows:

1. Show: "Rock of Love"
Premise: Reality show wherein Poison's Bret Michaels searches for love...in a pool of producer-chosen whack-jobs with big hair, and instead of "Will you accept this rose?" he says, "Will you rock my world?" because life is just that awesome.
My comments: Why am I not on this show.

2. Show: "Pick Up Artist"
Premise: Biggest effing chach I've ever seen in my life calls himself Mystery, wears makeup, face jewelry, ponytail, fuzzy tophats and outfits made entirely out of crushed velvet and gives girl advice to average joe type dorks who probably just need to be themselves.
My comments: Seriously? This guy? Giving advice?














Seriously?

Okay honestly for real I have big news.

I got a new job. It's with the same company where I work now just in a completely different department (and in the same building as my lunch boys). I have John to thank for this opportunity being presented to me because he bribed my new group into interviewing me.

I have been in the job I'm in now for 8 years. I won't bore with you how I got hired and moved into my current position because those stories have nothing to do with alcohol, and I know you guys come here for the alcohol stories. But suffice it to say, I haven't had a "real" interview in, well, ever. So I was terrified going into this interview process. I had to make sure I didn't swear, use the word "totally" or talk about Matthew Fox. All big challenges. Somehow I fooled them into thinking it would be a great idea to hire me. So they did.

I wasn't actively looking for a new job, though I admit I have thought about it for a while because I've been doing the same thing for 8 years and there's really nowhere for me to go from here. This new job will throw me into a different world of which I know nothing about. That both terrifies me and excites me at the same time. This is one of those decisions you have to make with your gut and hope it turns out well. A new job is always a leap of faith. But I called my new manager today, and she said, "Hey Sarah-hang on a sec." and then she turned to her co-worker and said, "Seriously are you not wearing any shoes? Dammit I knew something smelled in here." So maybe it's not that big of a leap after all.

John, honestly, I can't thank you enough for making this opportunity happen and for lighting the fire under my ass. Shop Dungs + Okay Seriously = BFF. And also Shokay Dungsly.

By the way, right before my first interview with one of the women, John texted me with some advice: "Interview tip no. 1: Picture yourself in her underwear."

After that, I can't possibly have bigger news, right? Wrong. My little sister, in a move reminiscent of when she got up to the high school where I was and instantly became more popular than me, has managed to trump me yet again.

DIANE AND DREW ARE ENGAGED!!!

Yes my baby sister is getting married. It's been 2 weeks, but I was under strict orders not to say anything until family and friends were notified.

When they stopped by my house to tell me, I had just gotten off the phone with her. We had been talking about nail polish, and I was expressing my (completely unreasonable) angst at not knowing which shade to choose to wear on my toes for Kim's wedding. So when they stopped by, I, quite unselfishly, assumed they stopped by to help me decide. I went on and on about nail polish till finally Drew said, "Hey" and pointed at Diane who was holding out her hand. I walked up to her and said, "Oh what color are you wearing?" I was still in hard core nail polish mode, people. In my life I have never, ever cared that much about nail polish, but at that moment it consumed me. Diane literally had to point at the ring for me to get it. Then I completely and utterly "lost my shit", as they say.

My reaction in a nutshell:

Screamed at 100 bajillion decibels: "WHAT!?"
Looking back and forth between Drew and Diane.
"WHAT!?"
More looking back and forth.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?!?!??!?"
Screaming, jumping, hugging, crying, etc.

It was an amazing moment. One I'll always remember. I think I really made it special for them, too, by dropping the f-bomb. Well, as it's been well established here, I am nothing if not completely classy.

Drew did everything right. He did it on a random Wednesday for the element of surprise (cute), didn't tell me on purpose because he wanted to surprise me too (so cute), brought his mom and brother ring shopping (so so cute) and asked my dad for permission (soooooo cute). Also he found a way to incorporate Diane's palm pilot (an item with which she has an unhealthy obsession) into the actual proposal itself. He really knows his audience.

In addition to all of that, he had made reservations for his family and ours to go to dinner the night he proposed so I was there when my mom found out. My mom didn't cry, but I did just at seeing her joy. My poor parents. Part of them probably thought they'd never get to plan a wedding. (Right now my mom is probably getting ready to call me to tell me that they "never thought that-we love you just the way you are and are proud of you".)

The ring is effing ridiculously beautiful. I think Woody put it best when he said, "Man Drew screwed us. He's set the bar really, really high."

So now we are busy planning the wedding and God bless Drew for putting up with me pretending like it's my wedding for the next 10 months. He's a patient man, that one.

By the way, it hasn't escaped me that my younger sister is getting married before me. I try to even joke about being upset about it, but I can't. I'm way too happy. But here is my conversation with my friend Sudha after he found out the news:

Sudha: Man. This is really starting to hit me. She's younger than us.
Me: Yeah. We're behind schedule.
Sudha: God I can't wait to hear your speech. Get all drunk and depressed and get up there with a whole bottle of champagne and cry 'I'm never getting married!'

I don't know about the depressed part, but I think we can count on the bottle of champagne, Sudha.

Congratulations, Diane and Drew! I love you guys! Would you rather me sing "Come Clean" or "So Yesterday" at your reception?

*By the way, my mom reluctantly told me the other day that while my parents were in Mexico last week on vacation they happened to watch an episode of "The Office" (aka The Show They Don't "Get"), and they thought it was hilarious. I knew you couldn't resist the powers of Michael Scott, Mom and Dad! Don't worry I will loan you my DVDs. We can become a real family again.

I now pronounce you Sarah and Champagne

I can hear you yelling at me for not blogging. Stop it. You can't yell at sick people. Yes that's right I'm sick again. I got sick on Saturday. So while you guys were enjoying your extra long holiday weekend I was laying on my couch with a fever and watching "Continental Divide" (26 years late), an Olsen twin movie which I accidentally put down on my Netflix queue because I thought it was something else and "A Cinderella Story" which I made my sister go see with me in the movie theater and which I happened to just find…ahem…sitting on top of my DVD collection.

I have so much to tell you. It's going to have to be broken up into several posts, though. First the wedding. My friends Kim and Kevin got married on August 25th. Diane and I were in the wedding which means we got to do girlie things like get manicures and pedicures and get our hair done.

Here is basically what my hair looked like:










Only it was more like this:










Honestly it wasn't this bad-it just felt like that. The wedding was beautiful. Kim looked like a princess. As soon as the ceremony was over and my wedding partner and I were walking back down the aisle he turned to me and said, "So now we drink, right?" That gives you a pretty good idea of how the rest of the night went.

Sharda and Meg were drunk when they showed up to the reception. And by about the third song, "YMCA", John, Drew, Aloyd and the groom's brother were dressed up like The Village People (seriously). The sash/belt thingies from our dresses soon became lassos to reel in the dance partner of our choosing. Unfortunately, I know that video exists of me lassoing Aloyd and holding the sash around him while rubbing it on his posterior. I've already mentioned the video of me, Drew and Hor doing the robot. What about the one where I looked over at Meg all by herself, video camera trained on her from 3 feet away, jumping up and down and yelling into the camera. Or Gordon doing the Michael Jackson "Billie Jean" dance. And I really, really don't want to talk about the video of a drunken Diane, Anita and I wishing the happy couple good luck. Yes, Kim and Kevin, enjoy your precious memories.

I'm going on record here blaming Anita for my state of mind because after the complimentary champagne toast (and after we finished off that first bottle), she convinced one of the waiters to bring not one, but two more bottles of champagne for us. What I hear from the peanut gallery is that someone looked over at the head table and said, "Oh my God Sarah is holding a bottle of champagne. This is not good." Well ha ha ha on you, folks, because I ended up being the most sober one in my hotel room that night.

To be fair, it wasn't much of a contest. The other two in the room were Sharda, who at one point in the night had on 3 men's ties and one of the bridesmaid sashes, ran to the bathroom about 45 minutes before the end of the reception to-hmm how to say this nicely-yarf everywhere and Meg, who…well you know what-I will save her some embarrassment by not providing exact details on her activities for the night. Let's just say she likes making out and ended the night in tears because we had to lie and tell her this one guy was a drug user with a girlfriend so she wouldn't try to make out with him. Don't feel bad Meg and Sharda, everyone takes a turn being the ass. Remember me at...well, every single other time we are drunk? That night was your night. Own it. Embrace it.

Can I just go on record saying that a wedding reception at a hotel is the greatest invention ever? When the party's over you just go to the hotel bar, and when they kick you out of the hotel bar because it's closed and because your friends are making out and because you finished off the pizza you ordered at 1:30am, you just go upstairs and go to sleep. It's genius.

Anywho, it was another kick-ass wedding, and I want to wish my friends Kimmy and Kevin the best of luck forever. And please have me over to play with the Bocce ball set I got you. And also you could probably set out some food if you wanted to. I'm just saying.

P.S. Regarding The Train in my previous post: Some of you have asked, "Hey, Okay Seriously? What gives? Why don't you like the lame ass Train?" Okay I added the "lame ass" part. Here's my problem with The Train: it's lame ass. It's so uncomfortable. I always end up behind and in front of strangers whose hips I have to grab and who are grabbing my hips. Call me a prude, but I'm not into sharing hip-grabbing privileges with just anyone all willy-nilly style. Also 80% of the time it means I'm listening to that horrible godforsaken come-on-ride-the-train song so I'm like 50% more homicidal than usual. On a side note: A, I'm glad to hear the 6 foot rule worked for you. If I can save just one person from The Train then I'm doing my job. Look I'm not saying my blog is saving lives, but I think A would agree I totally saved her life.

Tips for avoiding The Train dance at a wedding

1. Be aware of your surroundings. The Train can start at any time and not just to that annoying train song. In addition, keep in mind that it is not restricted to the dance floor. It feels free to move among the non-dance floor area of the room. Keep your eyes open.

2. Try to remain at least 6 feet away from The Train at all times. If you are closer than 6 feet to The Train, you are in the red zone, and the chances of you being sucked in are very high.




Note: not drawn to scale










Remember: the edge of the red zone is fluid. It's not a straight line, but rather it moves with the curve of The Train.

3. Head to the bar. If The Train passes you and tries to suck you in, you can point to the bar and say, "As soon as I get a drink!" No one will want to get in the way of you getting alcohol because it makes everyone sad when someone's glass is empty. This will buy you enough time to proceed to number 4.

4. Hide behind my friend Brian. He is there to protect you. Ignore his loud and unyielding laughter. Allow me to demonstrate:













Good luck and Godspeed.

I'm pretty sure Shop Dungarees was part of the marketing team that named this

I totally owe you guys a post about the awesome wedding this past weekend, but I am sleepy so this will have to do for now. I found this is in my purse Sunday morning. I don't remember taking it from the hotel bar, but I do remember Diane and I giggling like junior high boys at the name.














Now that I have my wits about me and am looking at this through the eyes of a completely sober 30 year old woman...it still makes me laugh like a junior high boy. Come on-Hard Creamer? I haven't looked because you never know when the FBI will come and take your computer and go through all the sites you've visited and then tell your mom about it, but I'd bet money that this is also the name of a porn actor and/or movie.

Oh God. A memory of me, Drew and someone else doing the robot-on video-at Kim and Kevin's wedding just came screaming back to me. Oh dear Lord. I need a Hard Creamer.

News break

Welcome to Okay Seriously, apparently your #1 source for all penis injury stories. Today's installation: "Woman sets fire to ex-husband's penis"

Okay I don't even have one of those, and this is so awful it made mine hurt just thinking about it. I like how they just casually mention that he was watching TV completely naked while drinking vodka. Like that's totally normal for someone who's not me. I will say that this does reinforce my unfair stereotype that all Russians drink vodka constantly.

In other news, holy fucking shit. I was just telling Hot Vendor Guy that I love when someone is named something for a reason. For example, B's father gave him his first and middle name after two legendary baseball players, and I once met a Rhiannon whose parents named her after the Fleetwood Mac song. But this thing has the creepiest reason for being named something ever. "We call her Blinky because all four eyes blink at the same time." Ga-gew. This is probably why I won't sleep tonight.

One more thing from the are you effing serious news items today:

"Rapper Kanye West has paid tribute to Justin Timberlake as the only othercontemporary musician as influential as him, and claims the pair are themodern day equivalent of Prince and Michael Jackson. West admits he oweshis success to Timberlake. He tells the upcoming October issue of Americanmagazine XXL, "My biggest inspiration and biggest competition is JustinTimberlake. He's the only other person that gets an across-the-board response and respect level - black radio, white radio. If Justin hadn'tcome out and killed the game, I can't say that my album, singles and videoswould be on the same level that they're on. We push each other. I look at me and Justin like Prince and Michael Jackson in their day.""

What world is Kanye West living in that he thinks he matters this much? Not that my feelings on hip hop are really what should be used to measure the accuracy of this type of claim because, let's face it, if it doesn't have Nate Dogg or Nelly in it the chances of me listening to it drop by like 50%. But seriously I don't know if I've seen a bigger example of an overinflated ego in my life. It's not like he is me, someone who is single-handedly revolutionizing the face of blogging using semi-amusing stories and MS Paint.

In case you were wondering

Things I don't have time for:
1. Local (senile) weathermen who (wear diapers and) when talking about the hurricane in the Carribbean say things like, "A lot of bananas are going to banana heaven tonight."

2. People with bumper stickers that say "Ask me about my grandcats". No. No I won't. I'm much too busy jabbing myself in the eye with this sharpened pencil.

Things I do have time for:
1. You guys. You all are coming to Put in Bay with me next year. I can tell you are all drunk assholes like me underneath your classy exterior. So let's do this. I'm sure Steph will convince someone to create a 30 person golf cart by that time, and then you can experience the hand signals for yourself.

2. This story. Ho. Ly. Shit. It's like I was just sitting here thinking about what was missing from my life and all of a sudden the clouds parted and a ray of light shone down on the Yahoo! Most Popular News headlines and I see this: "British dwarf's penis gets stuck to hoover" and suddenly I was whole again.

Put it in your Bay

I took a verbal lashing tonight for not having posted about Put in Bay yet. From people who were there. Explain that to me. Okay you guys asked for it so here's a warning: this is going to be loooong.

Diane and Meg took their cars over to the island on the ferry. There was definitely nothing annoying about when Diane was the last person to fit on the ferry, and we had to wait for the next one. I called Diane immediately when I realized we weren't getting on, and when she picked up all I heard was laughter. Five minutes later I got a text message that said, "How's the mainland?" My reply was a picture of Meg and Sharda giving the middle finger.

Once we finally got to the island, we pulled up to our rental house and noticed a huge pool of water in the street in front of it and slowly creeping down the driveway and trickling toward the house. We really didn't think much of it. Note: This is like in the movies when they do a close up of something you think is totally random but it ends up being important later on in the movie like in "The Sixth Sense" when they show how Bruce Willis can't get into the basement because the door's locked and you're like 'so the eff what' but then at the end it all makes sense. Basically what I'm saying is, we'll come back to the water.

The drinking began roughly 30 seconds after we got in the house and soon we were uptown (downtown?) at a bar where the bartenders know Kim and were very sad to hear she was getting married. Diane asked one of them to make her a fruity drink that didn't have pineapple juice in it, and he gave us a 007, and then I died and went to heaven. Seriously, you guys, if you haven't had one of these, you should get up out of your chair right now, march down to the nearest bar and order one. Orange vodka, orange juice and 7-up [Ed. note: I changed this from Sprite which is what I originally wrote down and apparently Johnny Virgil is a Mr. Smarty Pants and couldn't deal with me substituting Sprite for 7-up. So what if that made it a 00S, JV!]. So simple. So perfect. And what a cool name. Over the weekend I would end up drinking about 27 of these.

Friday night was filled with much dancing and drinking. It was also filled with some guy who was about 45, unnaturally tan, wearing a shiny outfit, dark sunglasses (it was midnight), a fedora and carrying a cane-no medical purpose readily apparent. Renee asked him if she could limbo under his cane, and he held it out for her and Kim to limbo under. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, but it was real and it was terrific.

Also at this bar these two guys came up and started dancing with us. And surprisingly, not in a creepy way. They were just fun. One of them came up to dance with me and was like, "It's not hard to spot the fun one in the group." And I was like, "Damn straight." Then he went to buy me a drink, and I was pretty sure that I had just been singled out for being the drunkest asshole there, but hey-free drink. Bring it.

I should tell you that at this point, my sister was carrying two buckets around with her. She had stolen them from a previous bar that sold beer in buckets. Why did she steal them? Well, when we go tailgating at football games, the bathroom lines are ridiculous. So the boys bought a pee tent and put a gallon milk jug inside it. Ladies, have you ever tried to pee into a gallon milk jug? It's-how can I put this delicately-a big urine-soaked mess. So Diane stole the buckets purely for peeing purposes. This is the conversation she had with one of the guys dancing with us:

Guy: Why do you have those buckets?
Diane: They're pissbuckets. For tailgating.
Guy: [blank stare]
Diane: I like football.
Guy: Oh.
Me, to my sister only: Did you just say 'I like football?' What? That guy probably thinks you're a lesbian.

10 minutes pass.

Diane, to guy: I'm not a lesbian.
Guy, putting a reassuring hand on Diane's shoulder: It's okay.
Diane: No really I'm not.
Guy: I'm a lesbian.

I think I love that guy. I also love Kim's sister for getting a ticket for public urination. Yeah that's right. She said it was the most expensive piss she's ever taken. I just used a word for "pee" 8 times in the last 3 paragraphs. I never talk about pee (9) this much. Unless it's lunchtime and I'm in a public place.

When we got back to the house Friday night Diane, Renee and I literally could not stop dancing. It was physically impossible for me to stop my body from moving and go to bed. Everyone around us went to bed and slept through our performance, but I know in my heart that we looked really, really good. I saw evidence of it the next morning when I looked at pictures Diane took of me dancing an inch away from Meg's sleeping face. Sorry Meg. At least I didn't put my ass in your face like Renee did.

Saturday I woke up to some commotion. Through a series of events I still don't fully understand, Steph and Meg had gotten up early to go to get coffee and came back with an 8 person golf cart. That is just something that happens when you are friends with Steph and Meg. Suddenly you have a golf cart. We piled onto the cart to go to lunch, and I have to say it was maybe one of the best things I've ever done on that island. We moved so slow it was ridiculous. I could've gotten out and jogged faster, and I'm someone who only runs when she is being chased by a knife-wielding maniac which has happened, oh, never times. The turn signal on the cart was broken so every time we had to turn, Steph made us do the hand signals:
















Then when we had to park, there were a couple times when we had to go in reverse, and she made us beep. Nine women in their late twenties/early thirties beeping. Now that's class.

As usual we went to the winery during the day and within about 30 minutes it was clear none of us were going to be sober for the rest of the day. We played bachelorette games there, and we made all these people take pictures with Kim. Also I just want to mention here that Diane was really mean and made me sit in the sun the whole time because according to her my "tan lines are really weird". Here you be the judge:










It's not that bad, right? But I listened to her anyways because I have to be in a bridesmaid dress in 2 weeks, and I really don't want people staring at me because I have a weird tan. I want them staring at me because I just did a shot while shoving cake down the best man's pants.

Let me tell you something about Kim. She has a nice booty. It's a fact. And she likes to shake it. We have been calling her Sweet Booty for like 8 years now. So for Saturday night, Anita had t-shirts made for all of us:















The back of Kim's said "President". Awesome. Then we dressed her all up in penises and garters and boas and took her out.

Highlights:
- This band
- Sharda spit Jello all over my face. Does that count as wrestling in Jello?
- Our special guest, Peter Pecker, showed up for the night. You might remember him from the bus accident a few months ago. It was nice to see him and to know he recovered okay. Incidentally, Peter is the closest thing I have to a boyfriend at this point. Like I've seen him more regularly in the past few months than any other man. That is the saddest sentence I have ever written.
- Kim walking up to the window of a bar that was playing "Proud to be an American" and saluting. Then immediately yelling, "Whatever-stick your ass out and shake it!!"

Lowlights:
- I went to the restroom when "C'mon N' Ride the Train" came on-obviously-and when I came out, after giving a high five to a stranger, I got sucked into a train by Meg and Diane. 'Dear Lord', I thought. 'Who's leading this nonsense?' It was Renee. I instantly cursed the person whose idea this was. Turns out it was my sister's. Et tu, Diane?

The water: I said we would come back to this. Well over the course of the weekend, the water running towards the house grew in both quantity and nastiness. It started to take on a brown hue and was cloudy in its consistency. On Sunday morning, we walked outside to pack up the car and were slapped in the face by a stench so godawful we actually had to go inside to get fresh air. It physically hurt to be outside it was so bad. It was sewage, people. Not a puddle of harmless water. But sewage. Diane kept screaming the words "fecal matter". I'm not sure if she was forming complete sentences or not because I was too busy holding a can of Lysol wipes as close to my nose as the laws of science and nature would allow. Let me tell you-"In sewage" should never be a reply you give to the question "So where'd you stay this weekend?"

Kimmy, congratulations! I'm so excited for your wedding. As a member of the wedding party I promise to try to represent you well and with dignity. Stop laughing.

Put in Bay rules! Whoo-hoo! Just kidding-this post isn't about that yet

I totally owe you guys a Put in Bay post, but I seriously haven't been home enough all week to do anything but sleep here. I promise I will post that soon. Listen you have to wait for genius. It's not like I just sit here and write everything out like a stream of consciousness. It takes planning and storyboarding and-you're not buying this are you. Obviously I write out everything in a stream of consciousness. If you were ever wondering, I write exactly how I talk.

Unfortunately, it is late, and I am tired and I have to get up early to go slave for the man so I have nothing to tell you except that apparently there are these two women in my neighborhood who are about 60 years old, weigh roughly 300 pounds and are twins. They were walking around wearing matching hats that looked like this:













My sister saw them stop at my neighbors' house and one waited at the end of the driveway while the other one walked into my neighbors' garage and through something away in their garbage can. WTF? How is that in any way appropriate, biker hat twins? Wait that's not a fair question-obviously you aren't the leading experts on what's appropriate based upon your choice of headgear.

When I told my parents about it my dad was like, "So that's you and your sister in 30 years." Dammit Dad. The sad thing is he's right. We just need to get hats. I'm thinking something along these lines:

Ice Ice Baby

My grandma told me she had an ice bucket she was getting rid of and asked if I would like it. I said yes. Then this arrived:




















That's 100% of the purest plastic-made-to-look-like-wood available. When my parents brought it over my mom was laughing so hard she was crying. I thought it was an urn at first. But then my dad pointed out the matching cups:













Grandma, I love you so much but 1975 called and wants its ice bucket back.