Monday, December 11, 2006

The Menace of Venice

Recovery is very slow from the wicked weekend, which miserably happens when you’re awake for 32 straight hours. I’m still paying for my sins tenfold.
Shelley arguably had the best time at her Saturday bash, getting showered with numerous gifts and five dissimilar birthday cakes. I opted to go the colorful flowers route. There certainly wasn't a shortage of ice and tasty trollops.
Could be nominated for Bash of the Year, too much fun was had, almost to a criminal degree after the events in Noel’s van. Trouble emerges whenever Noel is in attendance, his universally renowned spliff rolling worthiness never once doubted over the years. Killing the keg of amber assisted in promoting great contentment among the countless party goers.

The party was instantly qualified with the arrival of The Hat.
His undeniable spark of enthusiasm brightens up rooms, his humorous observations pick intricately at the brain. As was the case for The Hat, it was exhilarating to meet some sexy girls while hammered by the Morgan. My lone victory of the evening was messing around with this pretty girl in the bathroom.
I followed her there after exchanging some witty repartee and affectionate glances, the sexually charged chemistry beckoned was beyond expectation. It could be best described as a sudden burst of old fashioned animalistic response, had been a while since something like that random happened, so quickly, without thought of consequences. Liquor kills inhibitions.

She was either wasted or embarrassed after getting busy, which wasn’t surprising considering the line of drunks waiting to hit the head throwing suspicious looks in our direction upon exit. Didn’t get her information either, probably because my attentions went elsewhere as the night progressed into drunken blurs, and then she was gone.

I continued my much ballyhooed streak of noteworthy drinking feats, steadily moving up the scale of champions as conceived by the Circle. The Hat was relentless in his pursuit of many women, one of which insulted his hat, an absolute no-no. When he finished with this girl, she was visibly shaken and contrite.
That was the only tinge of drama felt, although very few actually saw the somewhat heated exchange that was hidden in the garden. Despite the speed bump, he was successful in playing the game right, a normal occurrence.

The night was finished off with the bacon I brought.
The Hat, inspired to take brisk action after a food conversation turned into unhindered late night appeals for swine, willingly utilized his inimitable skills in the kitchen (he’s actually a close second to Roxie in that category). I always, without fail, arrive at any bash destination with copious amounts of booze and ice, but the wild card I’m known for is bacon. I always bring bacon, and understandably, the bacon always gets cooked and devoured down to crumbs. The smell of bacon usually elicits wide smiles from everyone.

Saturday quickly devolved into Sunday, meaning church would be skipped in favor of NFL football. No denying myself the pleasure of $10 buckets of beer courtesy of Katy, the more than capable bartender at Del’s Saloon. Even with Wayne making a five beer cameo, analysis couldn’t be completed yesterday, and my lack of sleep still deters progression towards suitable answers.

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