The party of blame

We’ve all been to one of those parties or know one of those people where/who, regardless of what happened, the blame is put on you; if not you, anyone but them.

 

I had this party on Sunday.

 

We were sitting around the table, catching up, when it started. Beaner was sharing a story and as she did so, and we asked her further questions, she first blamed Live Longer, then me. “Well she suggested it and she did it too.” The details of the situation don’t matter, just the blame.

 

Ice Cream Man then told us a story about a recent situation in which he received a citation for peeing on a tree and having whiskey in a breast milk bag in his pocket on a college campus. “I finished my whiskey,” Sleepless told us and added, “And I told him cops were coming. Six cops later….” “You could have yelled that louder,” Ice Cream Man told her. “Did you finish your pee?” I asked. “I don’t even know if I started,” he replied.

 

High Kick immersed from the back bedroom and said, “Sorry. I’m not used to drinking so much. I’m only 100 pounds and so…” then she retreated to the back bedroom again.

 

Live Longer shared some stories with us about her recent trip to Mexico and how her friend got sick from a street food vendor, “I think she got sick from the toothless guy who sold her food.” “Why?” I asked. “Because he was toothless,” she replied and then said, “I couldn’t poo the whole trip. I blame Mexico. Oh, I just noticed, this is the party of blame. I like it.”

 

 

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