February 8, 2009

So this morning I finally called 1-800-CRY-BABY and they instantly rushed me into the whambulance to Chuck Norris where he administered a swift roundhouse kick to the back of my head and cured my recent pity party. Unaware of how I returned home, I found myself back online and ready to blog.

Pity Party Reasons- My Granddaddy Hal is passing away. I lived with Granddaddy and Grandmother for a couple of years to get away from my brother Noel because he had joined a gang in Orange Mound and was stealing my things and hocking them for hits. Don't worry though because he faked his death to escape the gang and joined the Army and is now a Green Beret. Fortunately he was just around the block when it all went down and managed to miss the episode on COPS. He's always had a tickle for dodging bullets.

Granddaddy has been suffering from Alzheimer's for 5 years or so. Anyone that has watched a loved one go through this, well, there's no words to describe the heartache. I'm going through the guilt of not being able to be in Memphis with my family right now. Even if all I could offer is hugs, it would be something. For weeks now I have been putting together a PowerPoint presentation in his honor.

Now to make an utter fool of myself for your entertainment... A few weeks ago I went over to a friend's house for a girls Fun Party. This is where a professional representative (Passion Parties) comes to your home and instead of presenting Tupperware, they reveal the latest sex toys and lotions. The girls throw back a few drinks and play some funny games and cackle madly at the absurd vibrating mechanisms. After the party was over the husbands were invited back in and everyone started drinking and regressed back to high school. I had managed to throw back about 5 tequila shots and began mouthing off "back in da day I could drink Jagermeister like water."

My friend's husband opened the garage where they actually had a Jager machine. About 18 people circled around me cheering me on to guzzle a jagerbomb. This is a cup full of jager and red bull. The following pictures show my demise:

The Devil
Quite cocky and naive, I approach The Devil:
Realizing my mistake:
Can't sis out now...

(totally verped but forced it back down)

For the next hour I was Beavis running around shaking with my arms up, "I am the great Cornholio!! I need TP for my bunghole!"

The highlight of the evening was when my husband Eric decided to entertain by manscaping his hairy chest with a bit of fire. (see the pride on his face)

TTFN