damn, i’m rusty…and in more ways than one.
those of you who have read my blog know that i live a nostalgia filled existence fueled by a love of all things retro and a penchant for classic cocktails.
some people do drugs, or smoke crack to escape.
me? i pick a theme night, watch videos on YouTube and throw back a few well-coordinated adult beverages.
so last saturday night i was feeling kinda 70s – and i decided i just hadn’t heard enough bee gees lately and i really should be dancing.
so i googled up a few disco classics and mixed up the quintessential 70s cocktail – the seagrams 7&7. i was making myself some tall doubles because…well because that’s how tony manero would have wanted it.
after throwing back a few, i was minding my own business, walking down our shag-carpeted stairs (i know it’s called frise now, but we all know it’s just SHAG redux) and suddenly i realized i was no longer walking. no. i was now sitting and not exactly by choice… and an excrutiating pain was emanating from my ass.
so it appears i have broken my ass and not in a “yippee! we’re going burro riding down the canyon!” kind of way.
no, it appears i have broken my ass in a “holy mother effer, i have managed to crack up my ass so bad it’s blue and purple and i’m limping around like grandma after she got a new hip” kind of way.
now i’m 4 days into my injury with no light at the end of the pain tunnel. however, i’ve got bigger issues ahead. the hub’s fraternity reunion is this weekend and i need to bring my A partying game. the hubs is really excited for me to meet his great buds from school with whom he’s formed permanent bonds over masculine rituals like naked kidnapping and the infamous double inverted moon (don’t ask). the brother i’m looking most forward to meeting? ricky nelson AKA “garden party.”
which brings us to this saturday. in celebration of the fraternal festivities, this weekend’s theme is all about the 80s. i’ll be rockin’ a little whitesnake, and the drink of choice? chivas on the rocks. i just may forget about the pain.
Garden Party (GP) was my big brother in the fraternity. His parents were farmers in the Valley. Although I don’t think they harvested the same crops that GP was famous for selling. Gardens main responsiblity for watching over his little brother pledging was to make sure there was always stash available. Looking forward to seeing him this weekend. Funny that I am now the “drug salesman” and Garden is a geologist.
I can only imagine the joy one feels while experiencing the yippee, burro down the canyon with a broken ass phenomenon. Is this some new fad streaking its way through the lone star state?
….sorry bout your ass kid.
I’m not sure I would attend a party where naked kidnapping is an item of reminisce.
Thy name is Grace.
joeybear – i’m looking forward to meeting garden too. anybody nicknamed after a dead rock star who supposedly brought down his own airplane by freebasing coke while flying has got to be interesting.
damon – the trick is to break the ass BEFORE you start him down the canyon. then it’s all smooth sailing.
hanni – i have to go. i’m married.
heyjoe – i also can’t eat without spilling shit all over myself. i’m a lady that way.
I’ve been sitting here for 10 minutes trying to think of a 7 & 7 version of “One Martini, Two Martini, Three Martini Floor.” But I got nothing.
Sorry about your ass. I still sit down like I’m 80 due to my rollerblading butt crusher from last year. Hopefully you’re a fast healer….