Yes, I spent the day on Saturday visiting the Merecat and N8Dogg, and then heading over to VT’s for a fish and then birthday celebrations.
Here’s the fish.
While we were fishing in the hurricane we saw a massive willow tree break off and crash to the ground on the guy’s lawn. On the drive back to town, we saw two big maples across the road. We helped one guy hook on and drag it out of the way, but the other was a clusterfuck, and because we were still scared from almost smashing into it, we scurried around and booked it for the CDot.
After dropping off the boy, we made for the Beer Store and the LCBO, where we picked up some celebratory libations and then headed for VT’s casa.
Upon entry we were assailed by homemade confetti and rejoicing. The birthday festivities had begun. Silent Hammer BBQd the ribs that Sprinkles had so tenderly nursed to perfection, and some lovely breasts. There was salad that I believe Ant Farts prepared, and some corn on the Jesus cob.
Oh, and there was cake. Three of them to be precise. We have video, but there are too many incriminating faces in them, so we will just enjoy that at home.
My lady thought it wise to model some scotch.
Now we were laughing when she smelled it, so I didn’t think to get a picture of her face. Luckily my beautiful bride will humour me most of the time, so I just went into the bedroom and asked her to recreate the face she made when she smelled scotch for the first time. She didn’t recreate the gagging sounds, but I thought that this was a pretty good rendition.
There may or may not be a wonderful duet with VT and I on “Every Rose Has It’s Thorn” and “The Gambler”, and there was maybe something that I was singing loudly in my lady’s ear, but I don’t remember what it was. Unfortunately because of the no video rule, I can’t let you see how utterly awesome we are. I’m sorry.
I’m also sorry that I can’t go into detail about the conversation that Ant Farts, Sprinkles, VT, and I were having regarding sexual tendencies, feminine hygiene, and rhythmic motion. It was quite fascinating, but embarrassing for some (the unhygienic ones), so we just won’t bring it up any more. I guess I should say that the dirty ones weren’t there that night, so don’t go thinking it was me.
We had a great time, and as much as I love big, professional bands and listening to high quality digital music through the headphones, I’d trade it in in a heartbeat to be sitting around my buddy’s kitchen table while he fumbles a couple of chords to an old song that I haven’t heard in years. There’s no amount of polished music that can make me as happy as singing along, fucking up a chorus or two, and then laughing at a couple of jokes that someone told. (Not the Chuck Norris roundhouse joke. I will never laugh at that.) It’s a feeling of togetherness that I don’t get from paying $100 a ticket to go drink $12 beers at the ACC or some other venue. I love being able to high five the guy with the guitar, grab him another beer, and go piss off of the deck when the washroom is full. To me, that’s living the good life, and I’m thankful that I had the chance to celebrate a birthday for a great guy, and a really good friend.
Thanks for including us, buddy. Oh, and happy birthday.
We both lie silently still in the dead of the night, although we both lie close together we feel miles apart inside,