Month: September 2010

Dr. BJ and I had the pleasure of joining Skiwi, Disco Dancing Dog Groomer and some of their Out-of-Town Guests  for dinner last night. Unfortunately, I was late getting home from work, which resulted in Dr. BJ and I arriving post salad but just in time for the main course. I phoned Skiwi to inform him I was late and Dr. BJ would be joining me. “No problem, we’ll just cut the lasagna into six pieces. No, wait, too late for that. We’ve already cut them into five pieces, so we’ll all just eat half of ours and put the uneaten halves on a plate for Dr. BJ.” So congenial.

We had a lovely time, enjoying our half pieces, drinking wine and sharing stories about all of our adventures. Out-of-Town Guests are on holiday and have been doing a lot of hiking and camping. They started talking about mountaineering and the toll it takes on one’s hands. Out-of-Town Guest #1 said she cared too much about her hands to do mountaineering and then pointed out Out-of-Town Guest #2’s hands, which were “very large and look arthritic, but they’re not.” I told Out-of-Town Guest #2 he should consider being a hand model. “I could be the ‘after’ model,”he said. “Maybe the ‘before’,” I replied. “Right, before. My hands and feet have been more places than you’d like to know.”

Skiwi then started discussing speakers – he is a major speaker trafficker – and relayed a story about one of the times I assisted him in the retrieval of a set. “Pretty sure that was blogworthy,” said Skiwi. “Speaking of blogworthy,” commented Dr. BJ, “I haven’t read the blog from the other night at the bar when that whole thing went down with Touch Me, No, Wait, I Will.” I told Dr. BJ I didn’t include that in the blog because so much had happened that night and, I wasn’t entirely sure on the spelling of ‘booger’.

Upon arriving at the bar the other night I ran into someone who I haven’t seen for ten or more years. Touch Me, No, Wait, I Will immediately recognized me and I immediately realized he was totally high. He started rubbing on me, trying to lift me up, and saying, “Oh, wow, you really do feel like a girl – I like that.” This type of activity took place each time he ran into me throughout the night. After the last time he rubbed himself and then me, I noticed something on the back of my arm. I asked Dr. BJ if he knew what it was and he said no. I looked at it again and said, “It is a booger! I’ve got a bloody booger on my arm from Touch Me, No, Wait, I Will!” Dr. BJ shouted, “Oh, gross! Don’t touch it! We’ve got to get that off of you and quick.” Together, Dr. BJ and I remedied what could have been a very tragic moment. Tragic for a variety of reasons, primarily because we were in the middle of a caricature drawing and I didn’t want the artist to include that in the sketch.

Tina Turner really knew what she was doing when she released Private Dancer. There is definitely something to be said about having the dance floor to yourself. Which is exactly what happened when OregganO, Sleepless, LA LA Lovely, Passed The Sniff Test and I decided to venture to our favorite dive bar for karaoke – we were the only patrons there.

Clearly, there would be no fire marshal violations taking place tonight. In addition to us, the bartender and Karaoke Master were present. We ordered our drinks and Karaoke Master told us he would “start it up” shortly. A few minutes later, as we were enjoying our drinks, we heard Karaoke Master on the mic, “OK everybody, we’re going to start up karaoke in about five minutes, so get ready to sing.” We were still the only patrons.

We appreciated the respect Karaoke Master was giving us and then we noticed Joint Juice in the corner. Maybe the announcement was for him, not us, we thought. Turns out, it was for all of us.

We all took our turns singing, even Joint Juice. Sleepless supported every performer, dancing – at one point on a chair – for anyone and everyone who t00k the mic – all seven of us.

I soon broke the news to them that I had paid $500 to reserve the bar for a private party and, for an extra $50, got Joint Juice (not to be confused with junk juice – which has protein and is often times served at private parties).

As is often the case, Sleepless, OregganO and I made “big” plans while we were drinking. This time, the plans involved a barbecue. Sleepless is housesitting at a fantastic pad with an incredible patio, so we thought, “Why not!?!”

Cream of Tartar had promised to be the grillmaster, just prior to sharing a serious story with one shoe on – so, unfortunately, we had to reallocate barbecue duties. I was working the grill and chatting with Tree about work. “That’s why I work at a restaurant,” said Tree. “When its slow, I just drink.” OregganO piped in, “I drink at work sometimes too.” I then reminded her that she works from home.

As we were sitting out on the deck, a couple of things happened. I was feeding OregganO her Jell-O shot, it dripped down her chin, and FatGirl ran over and “licked it up.” This so-not-gay activity had all of us laughing, when all of a sudden FatGirl looks at all of us and says, “What? It tastes better on her face.”

Skiwi and Disco Dancing Dog Groomer surprised us by showing up on their bikes. Skiwi took a quick glance around the room and said, “We rode our bikes to a covert area, donning our covert cooler packed with ice, wine and two Elmo cups, and waited to see what happened.” Looks like this is what happened.

Being that the weather was so nice, we decided it might be good to compliment it with some music. Sleepless quickly ran into the house to locate some music and returned with a small white object. “Is this an iPod?” “No,” I had to disappoint her, “It is a remote.”

We later headed to a local dive bar (yes, we do a dive bar circuit) where FatGirl proceeded to muck with Right Rear – constantly trying to grab Right Rear’s pecks when Right Rear said, “Watch it Stewie, I know your tricks.” Dr. BJ looked at me and shouted, “Right that shit down! That’s BW!”

Sundays are always a good day to tie a scarf around your hair (’50s style), apply a vibrant shade of lipstick and drive around in a red, convertible sports car with a 4’x3′ mirror out of the back. After driving around two counties, Tree phoned to invite Sleepless and I to join he and Screamer for brunch (which, since it was well after one, is really just lunch). Just before we were finishing up, FatGirl suprised us with his presence. Sleepless thought our server was cute, so FatGirl shared Sleepless’ feelings with him. This activity caused Sleepless to get all a flutter and resulted in several questions about what she should do now. Tree looked at Sleepless and said, “You’ve been hanging around us (gesturing to me) for why too long – now you think everything is about you.”

Immediately after brunch, Sleepless and I stopped by OregganO and Cream of Tartar’s house. They weren’t home, however, would be back soon, so we completely made ourselves at home – even though we had to do so outside. Cream of Tartar offered to make us dinner (elk, corn and tots) if we waited for him to finish the plumbing downstairs. Not the kind to turn down dinner, we graciously accepted the invitation and patiently waited for him and dinner. During this time we had fabulous “girl conversations” while listening to Wilson Phillips and Bryan Adams. Cream of Tartar, in the midst of cooking our dinner, shouted out, “Bryan Adams? Oh man, are you trying to make me cry?” He then turned up the volume, probably to drown out the tears, and sang along to “Please Forgive Me.”

After dinner, FatGirl stopped by for drinks. As soon as he found out Cream of Tartar was there, and he is a fireman, his excitement for life increased dramatically. Cream of Tartar, not one to let down, made FatGirl an offer he couldn’t refuse, “You want to put a helmet on and take pictures?” Within seconds FatGirl (and minutes later, Sleepless) was wearing the helmet and BDU and hanging from the ornamental iron on the stoop while OregganO snapped photos. After Sleepless’ photo shoot she was relaxing in her chair, wearing the helmet and sipping on her wine, when Cream of Tartar said, “You look like a girl that just came out of a recruit school.” “What does that mean?” asked Sleepless. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad,” Cream of Tartar replied.

Tree and Screamer soon arrived and, they too, got in on the action. In proper host fashion, Cream of Tartar headed to the kitchen to prepare food for Tree. Tree wasn’t aware Cream of Tartar was being so thoughtful until he heard shouting coming from the kitchen, “DO YOU WANT A BEAN BURRITO?” Tree politely and quietly replied, “No thanks, I’m having cookies and milk at home.”

Tree and Screamer were showing us pictures of a dog they are hoping to get and I asked what they planned to name him. “Maybe Dolores,” said Tree. “Winston,” said Screamer. “We can call him whatever we want – we’re gay,” said Tree. “Dolores, Winston, Lola, maybe all three.”

Although FatGirl was having fun, he was hurting from his recent workout routine. Cream of Tartar suggested he try eating elk meat. “The elk is going to help your workout tomorrow,” said Cream of Tartar and then he raised his arms above his head and did the “call of the wapiti.”

As the night went on, Cream of Tartar’s contributions to the conversations got better and better. At one point he decided to tell a story, looked down, noticed one of his flip flops were missing and said, “This story is a good one and so serious I’m going to tell it with only one shoe on.” It was around this time that OregganO decided to assist Cream of Tartar. He looked her in the eye and said, “Thank you for protecting me and the horny elkerdness.”

Unfortunately, the rice is not working in my favor – camera is still inoperative. Fortunately for me, my friends hang out with me for more than just my camera. Some hang out with me so they can be in the blog.

Late last night, while waiting for the foccacia to bake, I invited OregganO and Sleepless to go to one of local resorts for lunch. I thought it might be nice for us to meet up with MyFace. Due to the late hour at which we were making plans, I failed to advise MyFace of the plan. This morning, when OregganO and Sleepless arrived all dolled up to lunch, I suggested we (aka Sleepless) contact MyFace to let her know we would be joining her for lunch.

Sleepless took care of the call to MyFace and then phoned her tattoo artist to inquire about appointments for me, her, OregganO, Patty Melt and FatGirl. As she hung up the phone she said, “Phew, got rid of those penguins.” “Penguins?” asked OregganO and I, “What penguins?” “You see,” Sleepless began to explain, “My brain is only so big and I can only have so many penguins in there at one time. So, when I’ve finished certain tasks, I just let those penguins drop off the iceberg.”

We located a lovely pub and opted, based on their mimosa/bloody mary special, to dine there. OregganO and I each ordered a bloody mary and Sleepless ordered a mimosa with pineapple juice (she doesn’t like organge juice – a ‘penguin’ that will have to stay on the iceberg). Once we got our drinks we decided there clearly were not enough olives. We shared our olive interest with our waiter and he returned with two sipper straws fully covered in olives.

We were enjoying our meal when our second drinks were served. “Courtesy of the bartender, the thirty olive bloody mary.” Thirty olive – superb. Good to know the bartender wasn’t so quick to let those penguins drop off the iceberg.

I closed out my Vegas trip with a stay at the Oasis Manor. Shez Perez Hilton, Top Secret and their family were, as usual, very congenial. We spent a lovely evening just outside the pool house reminiscing about Top Secret’s “Back in the USA” party. “I’m so glad I got to know you outside of your pole dancing,” Shez Perez Hilton told me. “Yes, me too. I am more than just a pole dancer.” Being that I was hosting a “Welcome Back, Kotter” party for Dr. BJ, my stay was short and sweet.

The Welcome Back, Kotter party was a great success. I was in charge of pictures, so I was tooling around the house gathering candid and not so candid shots while, at the same time, overhearing very random comments and conversations. Tree was heading to the making room room, however, was so intrigued by the topic being discussed by Sleepless and OregganO that he held off going in until he shared his wisdom, “Junk juice does have protein.”

A little later Dr. BJ was struggling with the electric wine opener and Passed The Sniff Test stepped in to help. “Wow, look at him,” said Sleepless. “He puts his finger in and gets it (cork) out.” “He’s a keeper,” said Dr. BJ. “He opens my wine.”

Maintaining proper party procedure we pulled out the porta-party karaoke.  Dr. BJ was on the mic when Carmas With A ‘K’ shouted, “Come on, you can do better than that.” Dr. BJ replied, “Hey, I’m dancin’, I’m entertainin’, I’ve got jazz hands. What more can I do?”

I was snapping pictures the ‘safe’ way with the band around my wrist so as not to drop it) according to Maverik Midget King when it somehow ended up in my drink. I quickly pulled it out, wiped it dry and attempted to take more pictures – to no avail. “Put it in rice,” shouted OregganO. “I do it all the time with phones and iPods and they work great – dries them out.”

Once OregganO made it home she sent me a text so I knew she was safe. “I’m home, thanks lady are.” “Are? OK, glad you are safe. If you feel like you need to dry out, put yourself in rice.” Her reply, “That should have said see as in are you tomorrow, climbing in rice as we speak. LOL.”

Made it to Las Vegas without incident. Upon arriving the boys were telling me they would have to sneak me into the hotel, only enter one at a time and if someone asks I am their cousin. I asked why we had to be so secretive and they told me they were afraid all of the hotel staff might recognize that I did not check in with them and would ask for my ID. I convinced them this would not happen – which surprised them because hotels in France always do such things. Sure enough, the staff couldn’t care less that I was with them.

Having the good fortune of spending two days with two incredibly fit, sexy and ‘youthful’ French men definitely makes me think I’m living right. Right now for sure.

We met up with thier flight crew for breakfast and then a group of ten of us made our way to Lake Mead for a barbecue and JetSkiing. The temperature was about 105 degrees and we had the national park picnic area to ourselves. It was at this moment I realized national parks in Las Vegas are only truly frequented by Internationals. I was enjoying the barbecue and the conversations being shared when one of the pilots asked, “Do you understand what anyone is saying?” “No, unfortunately, not a word.”

One thing I did understand, and that Sleepless would appreciate, is they brought two magnums of White Zinfandel, and a make-shift cooler to chill them, to accompany the food. “Wine and bread (motioning to the loaf of Italian bread), it is not a French meal without them.” Having French people there also helps.

As the trip progressed there were a few times when Maverik Midget King and BD told me, “From now on we speak only French – then you must learn.” “Hmmm, oui.” I would then wait until they forgot about this request and started speaking to me in English again.

As I was getting ready to bid them farewell, “À bientôt,” one of them farted. “Did you just fart?” I asked BD. “Yes, I did, but it is a French fart, very different.” “You stink,” I told him. “Only in French,” he replied.