cops?

We did edward fortyhands last night. Everyone made it through, though some of us threw up in the process (like me!). At most we had maybe 10 people here. The cops showed up at 12:30. Very strange. We had 120 plus people here at the beginning of the month, no cops. There is no way 10 people can be more crazy, out of control, and loud than 120. No way. The dudes in blue (actually it was probably brown/khaki, but that doesn't work as well) said they had complaints about us being loud. With the layout of the neighborhood it could only feasibly be two neighbors. The ones who were shooting (illegal) fireworks off earlier in the evening or the ones who came to our house warming with their 15 year old daughter and stayed till 3:30 in the morning. Whatever, cops were probably just making it up. Nothing happened anyways, they didn't even get out of the cars. Yup, there were 2 cars. Anyways, here are a couple pictures, I'm going to put the rest up on flickr in a day or two.

On my preperation for my descent into hell.

I have to be at the DMV in one hour. I woke up a hour ago. I have almost got my mind ready. I should have scheduled my appointment closer to the start of a happy hour. You, DMV, are not my friend.

I haven't spent enough time in hotel bars. I haven't spent enough time in hotels.

Tonight there is supposed to be an exciting game of edward 40hands. What is edward 40hands? From wikipedia.

Edward Fortyhands (also known as 80 Ounces to Freedom or The 40 Challenge) is a drinking game in which each player duct tapes a 40 oz. bottle of alcohol (usually malt liquor) to each of his or her hands and is not allowed to remove them until they've been consumed. Typically, before the alcohol has been completely ingested, the drinking party will need to urinate, smoke a cigarette, answer a phone call, or something similar, giving each participant an incentive to finish their alcohol as quickly as possible. This often leads to humorous scenes of similarly-handicapped players attempting to unzip others' pants or light cigarettes using teeth, feet, or elbows. It can also be used as a "goal" for the game: to see who can abstain from these activities until they are finished with their drinks.

Yup, it's friday. Here's a video, just for fun.

I hear that sometimes you fall into old habits, I am just one old habit after another

I spent approximately two hours fighting for something I should not fight for at all.

Two weeks ago this saturday I met a girl. I'm not being vague. She is a girl.

We have spent some evenings together. We have spent some mornings together. We have spent some afternoons.

I like her. I enjoy her company, I enjoy her personality, I enjoy the time we spend together.

We have had two fights. Actually, I was found out about spending time with another girl while things were still being figured out between the two of us, and tonight we fought.

I fought. She said the same thing over and over again.

Honestly, we hung out and I wasn't sure if we were ever going to see eachother again, so I hung out with another girl. Once we hung out again and I thought we would hang out more I stopped hanging out with the other girl.

Apparently people who barely know me are telling this girl to look out. Granted, I have done shit things in the past, and I will do them again. But I don't know what is being said about me, and I don't know who is saying it.

The point of this is I fought for 2 hours. For a relationship that doesn't even exist. It's a "hey, I like you enough to not try to fuck other girls right now" sort of thing. Is that a relationship? Maybe, probably not though. Is it worth going through you most recent relationship/love/sex information and hitting levels of honesty not expected from a man at most times? I doubt it.

I argued like my life depended on it. (That's a Booth trait, if your keeping track.) I argued like a marriage was ending. I argued like I haven't in a long time. I argued like I cared. And I did. But if your going to believe things said about me said by acquaintances and not give me the opportunity to say those things are true or false by not telling me what is said, well, I'm just going to put another Booth trait into action and drink Jack Daniels. That will solve as much as me making my point 15 times and you not getting it.

I fucking said it, I fucking mean it, I fucking meant it. (that's for you gabe)

I am going to bed. I am pissed.

Tomorrow is friday. It can only get better, unless it gets worse. I won't stand in front of any buses.

I hate you for making me fight so hard. I hope you see it.

Kelly Clarkson is more punk rock than me.

Fuckin A! I bought the new Kelly Clarkson album My December yesterday. Why would I support a dinosaur on it's last leg (the record industry)? Because Kelly Clarkson is punk rock. Old bastard Clive Davis tried to give her 10 million bucks to take 5 songs off of the album because he didn't hear any hits. She said no. See, she wrote or co-wrote every song on there. Who would have thought an AMERICAN IDOL would have any sort of artistic credibility?

It needs a couple more listens before I can say a diffinitive thing on it, but listening to it last night in my backyard with all of my friends felt pretty good.

Here's to you Kelly!

TMI - Video Sunday

The wonderful IslandGirl tagged me for this a few days ago. I have been thinking about it all week. So here we go, too much information about me.

1. In junior high I had a suicide pact. It was myself and this girl Jessica Andre. We wrote it out and both signed it. We made two so we could each have one. I don't remember ever coming close to having to follow through, but there was talk of pills one especially horrible thursday. She became a stripper who then got married and had a couple kids. I became a drunk. She is divorced, we don't see eachother.
2. My dad had a stash of porno in this locked cabinet. I figured out how to get into it with out unlocking it. I broke the lock one day and tried to fix it. He figured it out and fought with my mom because she though she did it. Turns out he had pictures of his mistresses and letters from them in there. I never told either of them. But I liked porno, what are you going to do?
3. I don't need to watch porno. I just have to hear it. I get off more easily and with better quality just by hearing a woman moan and talk during sex. When I lived with my ex and we could hear our roommates making business I would be instantly in the mood. Her, not so much.
   
4. I was in a relationship for 5 years. It was the result of a bet.
5. I was two shifts away from being engaged. I went to the mall after a training meeting at work, picked out the ring, filled out the credit application, and waited. I needed to put down 500 bucks, then I could finance the rest. I had 375 on me. I told the salesperson I would work my next two shifts and have the money to come in. She put the ring on hold. I didn't go back.
6. I will get vivid sensations in my mouth of the barrel of a gun. I have never had a gun in my mouth, but I can taste it.
7. I threw away all the pictures I had ever taken before I had a digital camera. I don't want to remember how my life used to be, the good parts and the bad parts.
8. When ever someone says "where do you see yourself in xxx years?" or "what do you see for your future?" I see myself driving a car and a little girl is sitting in the passenger seat. She is my daughter, she's about 10, and my wife is dead.

Well, there you go. I nominate Frowning of A Lifetime, Rattling the Kettle and Honea Express. Make it happen.

Enjoy your sunday.

I need a jinx-removing candle

I have this thing, a jinx if you will. If there is something I am hoping will happen, or if the opportunity for something might present itself, I have this tendency to talk about it. Or write about it. And sometimes I can get away with it once, a passing reference to a friend or stranger, but usually not. If I have a plan for my life, a desire to move, a girl I want to take out, and I talk about it, it is gone.

Everytime. Well, almost everytime. Sometimes it still happens, but it is super rare.

It happened again.

Things we going pretty well with the girl here on referred to as second chance. A couple of email exchanges had taken place. There was interest in setting up a date. There were a couple complications (we live about 100 miles about, my shitty car can go about 25 before near explosion). But it all looked good. As it flew out the window.

I called her to firm up the details. She said she would call back. A few days later I said hi, wondering how her move went. She said she'd call after work. A few days after that called her to just get her to come hang out with a bunch of friends.

We never talked.

So that one is done. I was hoping for something more exciting, but I got nothing.

Tomorrow is video day and a nice little meme.

a lonely liver suspended in liquid

Why, Hello. How have you been? I've been all right. Feels like I haven't seen you in a while. Oh, I've just been doing shit, nothing exciting at all.

I've been jonesing for some blog action, but I haven't really been able to get around to it. But this morning, I have some time, so we'll do a sort of fly by bombing, like the ones that were on cnn in the early 90's, while Whitney Houston sang the Star Spangled Banner, and we made sure all those evil hospitals, medicine factories and playgrounds were out of our way. I'll be back later to do some thorough insurgent killing, but only the women and children, gotta keep t real.

I wrote that and it said "Star Bangled Banner". It sounded way right, but not completely. I had to google the national anthem. I am either dumb, drunk, or my politics finally seeped into my subconscious enough that I think the US national anthem is about Susanna Hoffs.

Yeah, the war metaphor is a little crazy, but, why not?

I went to Santa Barbara with Gabe, tried to pick up one of our waitresses who had been single for like 8 hours, and threw up on myself.

We had an impromptu girly drink night, Daiquiri's, but because their girlyness has been debated we didn't call it Girly Drink Night. Those fuckers were strong too.

I think I have an update on the Second Chance blog. I think I jinxed it by talking about it.

I got tagged by IslandGirl for a Meme. It's gonna be ridiculous.

More coming soon, I promise.

p.s. - can you believe I didn't already have a tag for vomit, I am so disappointed in myself.

on holidays, at best

Last night some of my favorite people with dicks (see: dudes) sat around a table in my backyard. We talked about our girlfriends, our conquests, our livers, our jobs, our music, our lives. We drank Old Fashioneds and PBR. We smoked cigarettes. (Even me, just one, for the first time in a couple of years.) It was a perfect ending to the holiday that was father's day. None of us are fathers, yet. But when it happens I hope we still have evenings like this.

I have a fairly large fear of ending up like my parents, socially. They had a large group of friends, did all sorts of fun things together, had parties, all of it. Most them had kids too. But as the years went on everyone went away. There were no more parties at our house, no more nights staying up with the adults, and, eventually, no more marriage. I hope we don't end up like them.

so it is sunday...

This is the first Sunday to have a video. It will continue on. This wonderful song is "Laid" by James. I think it helps express what I was thinking yesterday, but it might not. It feels right though, and that's what important.

The thing that sticks out the most about yesterday was being at Maxdon's. I had a great time at Wing and a Prayer, and a great time at the party, I even had a good time at Maxdon's, if I was only there for maybe 15 minutes. But it felt strange.

Last night I couldn't figure it out. Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the confusion, or maybe the jealously, or maybe the joy, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

It was the role reversal.

I have spent MANY nights at that bar. Tons, shitloads, ooddles, whatever. Probably an average of about 2 nights a week since I was 20.5.

Yeah, I'm a drunk, that's not what this is about.

Quite a few of those nights I sat at a table or in a booth (HA! I'm inside myself!) with my ex and Bill and Crystal. And a lot of those nights someone we knew would stumble in, or stumble over, have a drink and leave. We would still be there bullshitting about music or sports or our drug addict friends or dogs, and this friend would leave to go back to their business.

And last night I was the stop-by.

I like to think that we were always cool with the person, including them in conversations and trying to make them comfortable. Because it would be shitty if we didn't. And I would like to think that they didn't stay long because they had exciting things to get into. And I understand that position now.

It was a bad idea to go there last night. I hope I didn't make anyone uncomfortable, but I'm sure I did. I hope I didn't seem like an asshole, but I'm sure I did.

I had put a bunch of shit about dealings with my ex here, but, really, it's not important.

Oh yeah, it's Father's Day. Just like how it was in my family, I'll just gloss over it.

I'm going to go celebrate not being a father with an enchilada or two and a margarita, in honor of my father, who likes to drink.

Enjoy your day.

p.s. an update on "second chance" is on it's way.

number 100: there's a lot of cock blocking.

this is my 100th post. It will contain the same quality as the rest.

none.

previously: this picture is from a Dodger game on monday. Pepper's paid for it.
currently: I AM SHITHOUSED.
expectantly: more cock blocking.

Prologue: So, this is the 100th post. I am sure some meant more than others. I have loved them all the same. Patterns have developed. Theres booze. That's the one that is almost always there. From there we have making out, ladies, and pussy bullshit (thoughts and feelings, it happens to all of us.) And that is it. I am filled with booze, ladies and tears. I haven't changed much in a long time.

Today turned into the perfect cliff notes version of my life. Honest. I didn't even plan it. I'm gonna slang some bullets, because it's fun, and then I'll hit it all up with a life summary/ knowing is half the battle sort of thing.

• Although it technically counts as yesterday, I was drunk and tried to fall into some play. It didn't happen.
• I woke up at 6:45 for a Responsible Alcohol Service class.
• I played a show at a mostly empty bar.
• I met a girl before that. She was nice, she became crazy. But not like all the others.
• I ate a bag of popcorn and took a nap.
• I got picked up for a party.
• The girl I was with kissed me, then a lady, and then a whole lot of back and forth.
• Black Mike is FREE!
• I went to Maxdon's.
• My ex was on a date with a very cool guy from further southern california. I am happy for her, but something is strange.
• Robert drove me home.

I am going to need a night to process the evening. I have a lot of thoughts running through my mind. I am emotionless, but I am feeling something. I am confused.

Drunk sleep for all.

what are YOU doing...

sorry, no picture.

I find myself standing in my doorway at night. Usually music is playing, a drink is in my hand, and sometimes I am sending messages on my cell phone. And I am standing there, or leaning, depending on how far advanced into the evening I am. And I am waiting.

I LOVE unexpected visits.

Every night I think this will be the time when someone decides to show up unannounced and hang out. We'll drink beers, or do shots, or talk about politics, or dance, or make out, or fall in love, or yell at each other, or just plain live.

But I end up standing there, and no one shows. And no one calls. And no one sends text messages. And no one sends emails.

I love my friends, and they are always there and always show up. It's the others I would like to see more often.

More drinks for me, have a good weekend.

10 years ago, oh fuck...

I was inspired by a post Island Girl did about herself 10 years ago. Big ups to her for this one.

10 years ago, this exact week, I had just finished my freshman year of high school. Tomorrow, I would be going to the KROQ Weenie Roast (look at that lineup! WOW!) Summer had just started, I discovered making out, and I loved the shit out of Nirvana. Thinking that the best way to get into my head, or rather, the me of 10 years ago, I pulled out my yearbook. Here's some quotes about me.

• "You are truly someone to take sides with." - Liz Blanchard
  
• "I have really, really enjoyed our time over the past year. You are such a sweetheart, your great hugs (even though you crushed my boobs sometimes), and loving words have been so nice to hear over the past year" - Jessica Pickle I had a HUGE crush on this junior. She moved to Colorado and wrote me a letter once. I had that letter for a long time.
• "I hope you come here all 4 years, so I can watch you grow" - Joy-Carin Rufener

And then a whole bunch of people saying "You're Cool" or "KIT" or "Have a great Summer!". I would like to think that as I got older and more developed as a person the messages in my yearbook would get better, but they are probably mostly the same.

It is pretty strange to look at something like a yearbook 10 years later. I was trying to remember things from then, and I remember some, but it made me remember a lot more. Enough of this reminiscing, I'm going to go for a walk.

celibate girl walks into a bar

(no one pictured is celibate girl)

I used to have "a bar". The one I went to all the time, the one where I knew the bartenders and owner and cooks and all of it. I still know most of those people, and I still go there, but it's not the same. As I enjoy saying, "I lost it in the divorce". That is not 100% accurate, but that is ok.

I ended up there tonight. I was trying to make headway with a lady who is not the second chance, but interests me none the less. She never showed up. But celibate girl did. And that is fine. Most of me has moved passed my fascination. But part of me is still getting kicked in the balls about it. And her are the sordid details.

Celibate girl showed up, probably invited by Robert, because with one comes the other, most of the time. She shows up with a gentleman, whose name is Kevin. (I just decided to get rid of all sort of fake names/pseudonyms/whatever. Celibate girls' name is Hannah. All parties are happy. Or at least me.) Hannah and Kevin aren't old enough for cheap car insurance, let alone able to buy drinks. After being asked to buy a Jager-Bomb for Kevin I devise a plan and make it happen. (It was asked for by Hannah on Kevin's behalf) I use a plan because I used to love this bar, and even if my feelings have changed lately, I still respect it. It comes out later that someone already bought him his Jager-bomb, and mine was a "gift".

Fuck That!

I drank at this bar underage, and the tips reflected that. I have drank and drank and drank at this bar, and my tips reflected that. But I just got screwed.

There have been conversations between myself and Hannah about getting to know each other better. We might have tried a little bit, but not that hard. So I sat in this style of chair I have sat in some many times before, and it hit me. I am being used.

Hannah might not be into this Kevin, but she might as well be. Don't use me to get other dudes drunk.

She tries to tell me there was a misunderstanding, and tries to give me money. I won't take it. I tell her that it was a lesson. And I learned it. So I get rid of her. DELETE! I don't have her number anymore, I hope it lasts.

The point to this whole thing is that I don't need this shit, I am drunk, and I hope someone will learn a lesson.

goodbye...

This is Big Dog. I met him 7 years ago. He was my step-dad's dog, but he soon became mine. I wasn't a dog person growing up. We had cats. Big Dog helped me to see how awesome dogs can be. I have great memories from living with him in both Lancaster and Sacramento. Big Dog passed away yesterday. They think he ate some wild mushrooms (which happen to be poisonous) that had popped up around Oregon. I will miss you Big Dog. I already do.

...or don't - mix

I haven't put up a mix in a while. I was going to figure out the way CYSTSFTS? does it, but I am little lazy, so this weekend I will.

There is going to be a housewarming party Saturday night at my house if anyone is interested. I am going to go out on a limb and say that there will be a lot of drinking, nudity and a hopefully some making out. (I try and come up with ways to use making out as a tag every chance I get now, just for Marleigh.)

This mix has nothing to do with the house warming party. It's a representation of this feeling that shows up for 15-20 random minutes a couple of times a day. I enjoy it, the feeling and the mix.

Enjoy your weekend.

...or don't - http://www.megaupload.com/?d=1NYUXHSD
Personal Slump - The Weight
Black - Okkervil River
Melatonin - Silversun Pickups
The Lonely Vampires Club - The Wunder Years
10 Years Later - Mates of State
Memorial Day - Paint It Black
Jackie Lee - Off With Their Heads
Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod? - The Mountain Goats
Luca - Brand New

almost a second chance

I spent 20 minutes trying to find the right music to play while I wrote this. It ended up being Hey Mercedes.

I am not one to have a large backpack full of regrets, more like a wallet, a little kid wallet. I remember when I got my first wallet, it was a shitty red nylon one, and it had some change, a dollar or two, a picture of my parents and something with my address on it. Stupid little thing. Anyways, my "regret wallet" is mostly empty. I put events/people/places into it occasionally, and after a few years/months/days/minutes I take them out, realizing I am happy where I am now, and I wouldn't be here with/without that thing.

I do regret not buying the last Jawbreaker album when I found out about them in junior high and they were still together, but I probably would have sold it back at some point to buy a korn record, so I am actually ok with it. Besides, who would have wanted to be that cool in junior high? (HA!)

The main regret tormentor has always been my involvement with the fairer sex. Not the ones I actually stumbled into some sort of relationship but the ones I didn't. And not the ones I didn't because they saw behind the curtain or I wasn't boxing my weight, but the ones who because of circumstances it was impossible.

I had a girlfriend. They had a boyfriend. They lived in another state/country. They were married. I didn't know there name. I was moving away. They were moving home.

It's not even really a regret, actually. It's a what-if? What if any of those mitigating factors were gone and something could have happened, even for a night?

Most of these girls are very long gone and forgotten, thrown out with the boxes of pictures/address books/childhood memorabilia I have left at the dump during one of my many moves. Names and faces blur together. Did I meet them in a store, or under a tree, or at a friends apartment, or never at all?

Those chances never present themselves again.

Except this time.

I might have a second chance at a first shot.

lost in the supermarket

I was going to do a Wordless Wednesday with this picture, but I owe this to Whit, so it's gonna be Whit's Wednesday.

It has been a fun couple of weeks at the ol' Peppers. Word got around of my sexual ability Whit's leaving. The first reaction from everyone, naive 19 yearolds and road worn 40 somethings, was the same. "What are you going to do? Do have another job?" "No."

It was great.

People's minds were almost blown from his "lack of planning" or "ill preparedness" . Not mine, I would smile. I remember a time of single income homes, rather, I remember seeing it on television.

It is funny to me how people react when you do something financially risky/exciting/unexpected, especially in terms of employment. We are constantly bombarded with the buying-in of the american dream, the cars/houses/boats/breasts/shoes/shit, and when someone says "no thank you", even if they mean to or not, it throws them for a loop.

So the drink I am about to go make myself is for Whit, congratulations!

i don't like cops and i don't like park rangers

That's a tame one for Hilly. I here there's some full frontal's lying around, I haven't seen them myself yet though.

On with the show...

I woke up naked with a hangover from the LA Blogger party. Oh Yeah! We drove the hour and half or so to Carpenteria and started drinking. We swam and drank and ate and drank and danced and drank and drank and drank. Beer, tequila, red headed bitsy's, vodka fruit punch. We set the party guns for full annihilation and unloaded the rounds. We played this funny south korean drinking game that involves a lot of clapping. I felt bad for half a second for our fellow campers. You can't be excited to see a baker's dozen 20-somethings shirtless in party hats.

So most of us end up in the ocean naked. This, along with everything else, gets the park rangers called on us. That's fine. As much as it is my right to have a good time it is yours to complain. But complaining about noise when it isn't even the posted quiet time hour of 10 pm, please! Being naked in public, ok. Being drunk, sure. But what pisses me off is being in the water.

I can't go into ocean whenever I please? So what if I drown, I'm responsible for myself. There are enough fucking fences around, enough places I can't walk through, or explore. There's enough mountains I can't hike without paying 5 bucks a day to. We reserved and paid for two spots. Then spots got moved to super shitty spots with half the space because they had to pave the other ones. It's summer! What are you doing the 3-4 months in winter when there is no one there?

I got sidetracked. We are paying for the privilege to sleep in the vicinity of the beach and to use the ocean, but only part of the time? Fuck that. Let me swim whenever I want. It's not like there's maintenance on fucking water. ARGH!

Despite the being in trouble for swimming, it was a great time. Two great nights in a row.

Happy birthday to Bill!

my first party in the hills without that pesky freon addiction

Here's what I remember happening at the LA Blogger Party, a few days later...
(as close to chronological as possible)

On our way to the house, and by we I mean Bill, Whit, Tricia (thanks again DD) and I, Whit tells us LA Daddy (it's super funny to me to refer to people by their blog name) needs some plastic forks and ice. 4 20lbs bags. We find a CVS. They only have 7lbs bags and no forks. So we walk through it and out the other side (?) to a Vons. There's a VW bug in the parking lot and the sex jokes start. I exclaim loudly to my friends (and an unsuspecting woman) that I am wet. The party just started.

Oh yeah, we still had to buy 7lbs bags of ice. The count goes to eleven. (That's a Whit joke)

We find the house, we meet LA Daddy, we open beers, we tear paper to make business cards. We open more beer and the bloggers start showing up.

Red Stapler shows up, with the red stapler. If I had been on top of my game I would have made the UHF "red stapler, mmmmm, very tasty" joke. I'm kicking myself. She was way fun and way nice. Bill stapled my face.

Then we get to meet Write Write Baby. All three of them. The baby was a good baby, in that it wasn't giving out insider trading secrets and it didn't cause any physical harm to me. Two things I look for in a child. We played a little golf ball catch. I realized I am great with kids. For 30 seconds.

Then more and more and more and more bloggers show up. Super hot mom Baby on Bored showed up and I started to hit on her. And by hitting on her I said "I read your blog, the post about 10things to do instead of taking a bath with rose petals. It was funny." Smooth until the day I die. My ringman wasn't with me, but I saw it and abandoned ship. (A ringman is like a wingman, except they just check fingers for promise/engagement/wedding rings. They are useful helping continue eye contact and also not getting you yelled at for accidentally looking at a chest.) I decided not to try to hit on anyone else that night. She showed up with House of Prince, whose blog I had also read. As was revealed very early, she is breastfeeding. I made a joke that we could now make white russians, because the milk was here. Oh yeah. It gets better.

September 10th sat at a table with a bunch of people. We didn't say much to each other, but Donald and I talked about making money with a blog. It was a good base for another participant in shots later on in the evening. At the table I met Childsplayx2 who traveled up from San Diego and recommended living in New York. And I also met Andy, Kitchen-Fire's husband. We bonded over punk rock. I was excited, VERY excited. More people showed up.

I was anticipating meeting Rattling the Kettle. On his blog his sense of humor seemed like one I would enjoy, and I did. I wish we would have talked more, but at this point I had 3 drinks in my hand (beer, red bull and vodka, champagne with strawberries) and it was time to get things going.

Side note: being vegetarian at potlucks is sorta shitty, but you just have to improvise, like using a knife to scrape off all the fun stuff from the bagel bites so you just have mini bagels. Those do a good job, those and carrots.

At this point in the evening I spend most of it inside, jumping from conversation to ice chest to carrot plate to conversation. There were a bunch of people I didn't meet at this point, it happens. I did met Down With Pants (shot taker numero dos) and his wife. I wish I could remember her name, but I wasn't retaining much at this point. I had to start writing down blogs to check out on a piece of paper. DWP is huge! Like crazy linebacker huge, and just as awesome. I enjoyed the time with him and the Peruvian beer. Pretty much any beer with foil around the neck is tasty, and this one was too! DWP isn't a parent blogger, so I think we made some sort of super-hero-non-parent-blogging-world-power consisting of him Bill and I. You tremble. It is possible we formed no such group. But I do remember making fun of parent blogs. The funny thing is a parent blog is just like my blog, just change the baby name with my name and beer bottle with any drink reference. Keep the all the crazy baby antics though, I do those too.

I met 8cmdeluded and her friend whose business card is in my wallet. Things get pretty hazy at this point, but I know that party is winding down, and I think that we get into a friendly match of making fun of each other. There's the thing about letting someone come inside of you, then some stuff about owning a skateboard, then some "who the fuck is david sedaris" and something about Henry Rollins. It was good times for all, and by all I mean myself for sure, her probably, her friend maybe, and everyone else no.

I meet justinspace around the food table and we drank maker's on the rocks together, but separately. I never drink the booze on the rocks, my head explained to me why in the morning.

The shots happen sometime between the anti-mommy blogging jokes and the how to make babies conversation. It was me, Bill, DWP, Donald and When Tara Met Blog. Jim Beam, WOO! The party was great, but not so much a shot taking party. It was good to get the shots flowing, thanks again to those 3 for joining in on the fun.

Oh yeah, before the night is over, I take off most of my clothes and get in the hot tube. I almost drowned, the fucker had a crazy deep spot, like 7 feet.

I know I met some more people, but these are the things that stick out. Big Ups to LA Daddy once again for the great party.

Now I have to go read the 30 new blogs I'm checking out.

I am excited.

how to humiliate your husband!

At the LA Blogger Party I heard someone talk about how this phrase got people to go to there blog on accident, so I stole it for my title.

This is just a quick update on the events of last night. That's some ice we bought. It was just like the party, cool. (I am hilarious!)

It was great to meet new people, I have some new blogs to read, and I probably only put my foot in my mouth 6 or 7 times, which is a little low for a Saturday night.

I'll get more into this in a day or two, now I have to go to the beach for Bill's birthday camping and try set up some naked photo's for Hilly.

trees get chopped down

I went to a sake bomb party one time. It was at this apartment in Northridge. There was a keg gong, and chopsticks, and pot stickers, and Sapporo and sake. It was a wonderful evening. I bring this up because I was at that apartment a couple of days ago.

Congratulations to my good friends Adam Buus and Justin Hickman for graduating from CSUN.

I spent the day with these gents on Wednesday and it was good times like always. I just wanted to give them a hello.

Let the preparation for the blogger party begin.

Ready, Set, Go!

in preperation for the party tomorrow

In order to properly be prepared for Saturday, we had Girly Drink Night 3! It was mudslides with chocolate shavings. Then a couple whipits, then some beer, then a Cosmo, then more beer. And nudity. There is picture somewhere of myself and Danny naked on top of a VW bug. There were ass slaps and wrestling and a fire pit. If I ever enter into politics, this will be one of the many many evenings that will give my staffers headaches.

I would like to go on record saying that I am extremely excited about tomorrow. It is going to be fun meeting new people and putting faces to blogs.

I've been messing around with a mix to mark the occasion, I will put it up tomorrow morning. I am going to rest my liver tonight. It has a big day ahead of it.

*****UPDATE*****
Thanks to Robert at The Sounds I Make for uploading this picture. Check his site for a much higher resolution version.