I always drive the minivan, as my husband’s car is stick-shift and I’m a retard and don’t know how to drive it. I’ll try to get all the child-associated detrius out before we go.
And Pepe’s sounds fantastic!! Margaritas and enchiladas. I hope everyone will be too drunk to care if I fart the entire night after we eat!
Will there be pictures? I want to see pictures. Hell, I ought to show up and TAKE pictures.
Of COURSE there will be pictures. Not sure how many of them will be NEKKID pictures, but hey!
Seriously, come on out. It’s at McCool’s in South Haven. (woo!)
If I have the time, I might!
Broad Nekkid....
(still shivering from the last time that was mentioned)
Of course, today I get tickets, gratis, to an intimate concert with pianist Jim Brickman at the Suissotel in Chicago. What day, you say? March 12. Sigh. So goes my life. I gave them away, but horked the Swiss chocolate delivered with the invite.
We damn well better be drunk and farting that night!
Who the hell’s Jim Brickman!?! Grrrrl, please. Since when have you been the piano lounge chick!?!?
Drunken farting will be a prereq. In fact, we’ll have contests on the way home. That’s Ok with you, right Aim!?!?
Mmmm. Drunken farting. Mmm
Sounds like Og is looking forward to it!
Drunken farting is the best. Specially if the farter can’t tell if it’s a fart coming or something more, er, substantial. Then you have drunken Sharting, which is always good for some fun. me, I don’t participate, having forsworn alcohol many years hence, but I like to watch. And hose down,where necesary.
Wad can attest to the following recipies for drunken farting success:
1) beer + gravy from stracks
2) beer + chili fries (mmm… chili fries)
3) anything + Zel’s Chili Cheese Fries + 2 chili dogs with everything
4) Guiness + anything remotely resembling (but not necessarily) edible food
‘Course feed Wad onions, pork, too much garlic, green peppers, and several other things that Wad can’t remember and you have sober drunken farting.
As for Sharting, on a good guiness binge (like 10 pints) Wad invariably has to do a number two out of both ends.
TMI for your Thursday.
Mmmmmm ... Zel’s chili cheeeeeeese beeeef ... (droooooools)
Man, good thing I have a balcony, because I suspect one terlet isn’t going to be enough for this party.
Word to the wise: never let Wad buy you shots. And if the words “One Fifty One” and “Jagermeister” come out of his mouth… run.
Mix that with cheesy pizza breadsticks, scotch, a family in their Sunday best, and a Round-The-Clock parking lot at 11pm, and you’ve got the second worst night of my life. And probably that family’s life too.
Of course, Wad buying Weas shots is like a spectator sport. God I miss those days.
Nostalgically,
Dix
Note to those who “knew me when”... (Read: Broad and Wad… Sorry Tara, only met you once at a Broad-hosted Abject Poverty Kegger)
Been so damn nostalgic of late, I just bought back my old BMW that I sold to a friend in LA after buying my Audi in Indiana. She’s a little worse for wear after 4 years, but still runs fine and a little leather cleaner, carpet shampoo, and wax goes a looooong way.
Zigtastic,
Dix
Note: “She” in my previous post refers to the car, not my friend. Though I’m sure the same products would go a looooong way on her too.
Throw in og’s motor oil and kiddie pool and we’ve got ourselves a party.
http://regionbroad.wiredhub.org/archives/000439.php
Kinky for no apparent reason,
Dix
(shrieks) Speaking of scotch, remember the tampon? In the good scotch!?!? WAD ...
Wad remembers many tampon based incidents involving the Broad.
Late night rag runs.
Tampons being fished out of the purse at inopportune moments.
Discovering the tampon dispenser at IU was borked and swiping all the tampons from said location.
Interestingly enough, though, Wad does not remember sullying good scotch with a tampon.
If Wad did, Wad might cry.
As for Dix.
Not my fault you drank them and succumbed to Wad-Pressure.
Wad can be persuasive.
Wad can be insulting to your manhood.
Calling you a “pussy” worked amazingly well.
But Wad still didn’t hold you down. Haw.
And Wad really does miss making the Weas sloppy mutherfuckin drunk. Too bad Weas went and got married and traded his balls for a nice house. Nudge.
Best nights of Wad’s life. Wad misses the group parties at Kilroy’s.
“Waiter, a pitcher for Wad and then one for the rest of the table please.”
“How many glasses does Wad need?”
“Glasses? Wad don’t need no stinking glasses. Wad drink from pitcher!”
And d00d. That car? Never understood the fascination with that one. Wad always preferred the later models.
Wad can’t imagine what P.M. on that thing is now.
“Your total, with Oil Change included, comes to the GDP of Bolivia.”
More like Bangaledesh; it might not be as cheap as a Honda from that day, but they made 2.1 million of that body style and there are still plenty out there. They’re not rare enough yet to be exotically (or eccentrically) expensive. People who love ‘em… really love ‘em, and I guess I’m just one of them.
It’s a low revving engine (2,200 rpm at 70 mph in 5th gear) so it goes forever. Not much in the way of a computer on board. I’ve taken it out before, pretty funny to see how large the components are… looks like the internals of an old Radio Shack RC car. And a lot of the mechanical can be DIY since it’s now 20 years old. Parts are easy to find online and you can basically rebuild it from the ground up if you wanted to. I might replace the bumpers and side mirrors since they’re pretty thrashed due to water spotting and sun exposure. I figure if I do it myself, it’ll cost about $850 for all that.
Considering the cost of ownership on that car the 6 years I owned her came out to about $120 a month, it sure beats the car payment I’ve got on the Audi. And most of that was due to the 70K miles I put on her the first 2 years I owned her. High mileage = more stops at the mechanic per year.
For the record, I have no plans to sell the Audi, though it is about to cost me $1,400 to replace the fucking ABS computer. Another reason to covet an older car. Less electrical bullshit to deal with.
I guess repair costs are relative. Yes, the bimmer is not cheap to repair, but I own an Audi… I know that sucking sound in my wallet all too well, and the bimmer feels (at the moment) like a welcome reprieve.
The Ultimate Driving Machine,
Dix
Wad is correct, it requires very little pressure to get me to perform. Add booze and I’ll do almost anything. “But I won’t do that” (Thank you, Meat Loaf power ballad).
Ah yes, me remembers da Wad lording holy over the table of his congregants, pitcher in hand, sneer on face, wit ready to lash out and crack you on the skull at a moment’s notice. Weas gnawing on Cabbage Hands. Weas “kiddie leashed” to a female in the group with humorous results. Cool-downs at RTC on Indy Blvd. Keeping Weas from hitting on jailbait. Highly competitive games of darts and pool. Drunken bowling. Panty exposure. Miscellaneous drunken debauchery of Caligulan proportions.
Dem was the days. I’m amazed I remember as much as I do.
Wad’s Pussy,
Dix
Dix, don’t worry, if ANYONE mentions 151 or Jager that night, I’m bolting for the door (or at least hiding in the bathroom).
It was at the now-infamous 4th of July soiree at Chez Broad. And I have the picture to prove it. Somewhere.
And for the record, *I* never horked any tampons from college.
Don’t worry, Aim—*I* won’t make you do Jager or 151. Now, a flaming Dr Pepper might be in your future, but no Jager.
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I always drive the minivan, as my husband’s car is stick-shift and I’m a retard and don’t know how to drive it. I’ll try to get all the child-associated detrius out before we go.
And Pepe’s sounds fantastic!! Margaritas and enchiladas. I hope everyone will be too drunk to care if I fart the entire night after we eat!