Rub and pop

Dr. BJ did it – he bought a house! Gone are the good ol’ days of us (OregganO, Dr. BJ and I) casing neighborhoods and committing ‘soft’ breaking and entering acts. This life changing event called for a celebration, so we bought some champagne (Cordon Negro for Black Jesus)and invited friends over to celebrate. Luckily, Tree could join us for a little rub and pop (champagne corking – the rest of us are very timid about this task, which is funny considering all of the other things we’ll do/try).

 

Earlier, before the guests arrived, I was chatting with Dr. BJ about all of the people who care about him and want to be an active part of his life. “You know, you’re like a chocolate fountain,” I told him, “Everybody wants to dip into you.” We shared this story with our guests, FatGirl giggled, and then said, “OK, I’ll tell you a white joke.” I’m not sure why or how this related, but it was very appropriate considering the source.

 

Passed The Sniff Test showed up to join in the festivities and brought his mom, Wiener Whistle. She was sharing a story about how his brother, Skirt Chaser Not Skirt Chaser, experienced the “greatest day of his life when he saw the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile and got a wiener whistle.” “Wow, mom,” said Passed The Sniff Test, “Wiener whistle? Where does that come from?” “I can’t help it, it just slips out.” “I don’t think that it just slips out,” said FatGirl. “If they did just slip out,” I added, “pregnancy dangers wouldn’t lurk at holiday parties.”

 

Passed The Sniff Test started sharing phrases/activities with us that he felt were very common. These included cock punch, squirrel tap, cup check and donkey punch. He informed everyone he plans to get me a t-shirt with “cock punch” printed on the front. “That should get me dates,” I said. Oreggano quipped, “Again, you are the reason you are single.” “Some guys like that,” Tree comforted me. “Yep,” said Passed The Sniff Test, “There is a Jack for every Jill.”

 

Passed The Sniff Test then started talking about getting a colonoscopy. “I’m glad I don’t have to have that finger until I’m 40.” “I thought it was 30,” Tree said with a questioning look. “No, 40,” Passed The Sniff Test confirmed. I could tell this answer conflicted with Tree a bit, so I leaned in to him and whispered, “Hmmm, guess that explains the weirdness of that doctor appointment.”

 

Dr. BJ pulled out the camera and started snapping photos. FatGirl leaned into a photo with Passed The Sniff Test and Wiener Whistle. As he did so, he flipped the bird. He said it was for Passed The Sniff Test but in the photo it was clearly directed toward Wiener Whistle. Not one of FatGirl’s finest moments, but he’ll probably get a minority scholarship for it.

 

As the music was playing, Tree started naming several 80s bands. Dr. BJ was unfamiliar with most of them, however, kept reminding Tree, “I love Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam. Oh, and Prince.” After several attempts of trying to assist Dr. BJ with recall of some of the finest musicians ever, Tree gave up and told him, “You’re so no white.”

 

As Passed The Sniff Test and Wiener Whistle were leaving, FatGirl tried to make right, “It was a pleasure to meet you. Sorry I flipped you off.” Soon after all of the guests left, with the exception of Dr. BJ and OregganO, Dr. BJ laughed and said, “Oh, my straight boyfriend – he loves the Chocolate Bear.” “It’s good,” said OregganO, “everybody needs one.” “I wish I had one,” I added.

 

“What a night,” OregganO commented. “Full of racial shit and wieners.” “Yes, there was a lot of that.” We started cleaning up and Dr. BJ decided to keep the empty champagne bottle (on which I had written his new address), “It has my address, so I can remember it.”

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