Key Issues

Get 'er Done!

Due to time constraints tomorrow and mind numbness today, I shall attempt a Cliff Note summary of the blogmeetus uptus.

Friday, the party was indeed at our place. My gurlfriend honey sweetie brought the yummy, non-twinkie tasting cupcakes, the metro-mutant boytoy brought the now infamous punch, and my next-life fiance made a wonderful pot pie, one which had us all in a fork-fight for seconds, behaving as though we had just seen food for the first time.

And I'm sure pics of the burfday gifts will be scattered far and wide. The princess tiara is from Leslie, who came bearing gifts for all. Including chocolates. From which I attempted to abstain, but thankfully, it was forced upon me. Leslie is the sweetie who screws up our Yankee stereotypes. She and her traveling companion, Buckaroo Bonsai, are both of the supah friendly sort, definite bringers of the bloglove.

The other piece of headwear came from the Velociraptor: I am now the proud owner of an adorable, red straw pimpette hat. Well, was. Miss Priss stole that little piece of cuteness before I could even get in the house from the trip. "Cool!" said she, placing it on her head, "What else did you get me?"

Da Zonkmeister-mullethead! Now, he was a lot more fun to outfit. Kel and I gifted him with the "Motorhead Bastard" tee and the humungo silver-framed Elvis style glasses, which might I add, offer 100% UV protection. And Vman gifted the ultimate: the tattoo sleeves that had the ladies drooling. Yes, myself included. The power of the mullet ensemble was simple overpowering. I was caressing the tattoos, in fact, when the Single White Wife exclaimed with beautiful Scottese, "Be carleful! You'rde going to EX-CIIITE 'im!" Heh. Ya gotta love her. And the hubbie with the pretty freckled belly too. It was good to see them both. (I wonder if Dax ever got around to making that "red, buttery slipper" that she was asking for. Oh, and I want one too.)

Dax and Donnie are the strong, silent type fellas in da crowd. So good to see my bro again. I only momentarily considered placing bets on who would win should these two hunks brawl. I quickly decided I'd rather them both have my back, should anyone give me any trouble.

Speaking of gifts, due to Donnie's new ranking among his peeps, Zonk and I gifted him with a jewel Elmer glued encrusted PIMP cup, fit for kings.

I would provide links in an effort to showcase all of these splendid gifts, but my guess is that someone will have the actual pics up before day's end. Mine? They'll be up in a week (or two).

So, I believe I was on Saturday now, though I neglected to mention Denny, prince of my sofa Friday night. He was in awesome spirits. Also a must-love individual, he had every girl in the place at his beck and call, fetching him punch and laughing at his one-liners.

After only a handful of meets together, I have developed a serious addiction for my cyber-mate, the one and only Sammy Baby. He is, frankly, the nicest badass you could ever hope to meet. Gotta love 'im. And for him, I stood on the downside of the slope, so that he didn't have to wear out his tip-toes. The highlight of the trip: I have the cutest pic of Sam and Donnie laying on their bellies, heads propped on hands, in uh... Who's room was that? Anyway, that pic later. What I wish I had a pic of happened 30 seconds later, and cannot be described. Suffice it to say that if you ever want Sam to move at lightning speed, you need only to let Velociman mount him from the backside.

Elisson will not say so on his blog, but he is a P.I. living in Miami. Well, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it. He and his wife, btw, look SO adorable together that I was stunned to discover that they have been wed going on three decades! Very impressive. Elisson and I bonded over headwear. He was pimped. I was P.I.ed. If I had the constitution of the Velocibride, we coulda bonded over that wicked drink of his, but uh, seriously, I was afraid to smell it. I did, however, look at it, so I figure I get partial credit. I'm thinking Moogie shoulda had one or ten of those things, as she did not dance on the table with a lampshade over her head, as I was hoping she would. But we had a good time, and I'm glad she was there, and we can't always wear the life-a-da-party crown. Riiiight Georgia? Heh. Nevermind. She totally wore dat crown. Good to see her and Rick, and they even brought Acidman. Acidhead, in fact, has formally apologized, proclaimed the priceless value of my enviable friendship, and sworn never again to piss in my Wheaties, at least not while I'm looking.

Side-note regarding lost and found: As far as I know, everything has reached its rightful owner. But as of Saturday morning, us cabin gurls had an extra pair of swimmin' trunks, Sam had Vman's shirt (and his monkey), Shoe had Zonk's pickle, and Velociman was MIA in Shoe's pajamas.

In other words...Killer meet. We partied til near dawn every night, and still...It just wasn't enough time, and I fear many of us suffer PBD, as mentioned by my Blight gurl in my Shoe gurl's comments.

And so... What to do now???

Hell, I'm going to Disneyworld.

(Heh. No joke. The Priss is out of school, and we are booked. Leaving tomorrow. Will lurk tonight, and will be posting again in a week. And hey, no posting of unflattering pics while I'm gone!)