Fun Fun Fun Till The Booze Takes Her Inhibitions Awa-ay!

Wednesday, Oct. 04, 2006, 10:20 p.m.

My roommate and I have several mutual friends, and last night, one of them came over to cook us pasta.

(Side Note: For those of you who may be having flashbacks, I am not referring to The Original Pastaman, aka "Butch". Since deployment ended, I haven't talked to him, but now that you mention it, I really should make at attempt to look the guy up. End Side Note)

Our friend, whom I shall call BoBo, cooked us a delicious meal of spaghetti and tasty sauce plus bottle of wine. As he cooked, more people began arriving at our house. Apparently my roommate was expecting them. I was not, but because I highly enjoy visitors, especially when they bring their own booze, I knew good times were to follow.

Shortly after the meal was consumed and one bottle of wine was gone (mysteriously! Better get another bottle!), it was decided that the nine (9) of us would play one of my favorite games in the entire world, Cranium!

Although the wine had begun to take hold by that time, we managed to keep the game going long enough to get to one question which required an "artist" from each team to create a drawing of a specific item with his eyes closed.

This is supposedly a dog. My guess was a snowman or, if we are limiting ourselves to the Animal Kingdom, a sickly duck.
And he was the sober one. A trained eye may have noticed that the drunk one (possibly me) (definitely me), took the picture.

Shortly thereafter, our game began to dissolve into madness, and the camera became the focus of the insanity.

Hence:

When I told my roommate to pose, she did this. The next three pictures were my depressing attempt to emulate The Sexy.

Attempt #1, or, "Sexy Like Harpo Marx"

Attempt #2, or "Does It Look Like I'm Trying Too Hard?"

Attempt #3, or "Let's Try A Different Tactic"

Non-Attempt, or "Fuck It; There Is Wine To Be Consumed"

Then BoBo gave Sexy a shot:

I believe he succeeded. I dare you to naysay.

We then ventured away from Sexy, and headed toward Gangsta.

I have no idea what I was going for, here, but it was certainly less "East Si-yede!" and more "Look! It's A Crocodile!"

After that, things got a bit out of control. For example:

I won't frighten you with the rest at this point, but a few of 'em are posted on Flickr, if you haven't had enough.

In case you're wondering why I suddenly have the energy to write an entry at 10 p.m. on a Wednesday night, I'll share with you my secret: God gave me Monday and Tuesday off.

I say God did it because the Army never purposefully allows good things to happen to me. I was actually supposed to be on night shift for our division's field training exercise over the last two nights, but because my division operates under a procedure wherein nobody knows what will happen until it is actually currently happening*, I was informed two hours before my supposed shift, on both nights, that Thank You, But Your Services Will Not Be Needed.

To which I replied, "Woo hoo! I shall stay up all night ravenously devouring Kettle Korn and playing on the Internet!"

And I did. And it was Good.

*Seriously, I didn't know which day I would deploy to Iraq until I was actually on the plane. Same for the return trip. And even then, it was iffy.

In other news, thank you to all of you for the encouraging chorus of "Hooray for being single!" and "You can do it!" and "DRINK, BITCH, DRINK!" You all put a smile on my face, warmth in my heart, and a hangover throughout my entire body.

Hopefully that tradition will continue this weekend, as I am hoping to encounter the NoGoodFamily sometime on Columbus Day and tell them in person that they really need to not live so far off of I-95.

Smooches, all!