FISH & THE 70'S BUSH...revised

So, for the sake of New Year's and much debaucherous celebrating (although I'm not sure the new year was what we were celebrating exactly) The Tripod was in full assembly, meaning that all three legs were in the same place and there is actual photographic evidence of this for the first time since my wedding. Clearly, an event such as this does not happen very often.

Our celebration was to kick off Friday night with a girl's-out dinner and then drinks at Landmark. The night ,in fact, almost didn't happen due to a freak blizzard in the day in The Great White North.

I woke up from yet another strange dream on Friday morning around 9:30. This time there weren't any zombies though (although I do still blame BEG for the constant zombie dreams lately. She's such a zombie junkie). It was actually about my living in pumpkin house like in the children's story, and the raccoon that once ate the actual pumkins from my last residence's front porch, yes they were the pumpkins covered in hubby's blood from when he needed to get stitches from slashing his hand with a filleting knife as his carving tool, kept biting off chunks of the house and eating them. So weird.

Maybe I should stop eating things like donuts and summer sausage before I go to bed. Maybe I should just stop eating them altogether. Or maybe this is a fortelling of a future giant raccoon attack! Either way, I'm so in if Geraldo will be covering the event(s). And if he's wearing chaps and rubbing ointment on the bellies of chubby baby squirrels, there's no telling what I'll be capable of!

Omigod! I was all sorts of straying just then! Back to the original topic...a fully assembled Tripod and their weekend of chaos and grrrrr!

Anyway, I got up from that strange dream and then BEG called with a displeasing weather report from The Great White north. It was snowing something fierce and she didn't know when or if she would be able to flee The 'Sau for the first time in months.

This was so not cool. I actually had a terrible sight in my head of BEG sitting, freezing in her apartment and starving because she'd planned to not be there so she hadn't gone to the store for food, but hey...it's not like we have any control over the terrorist weather machine and I would try to make it to her and save her ala Dennis Quaid's character in The Day After Tomorrow saving Jake Gyllenhal (I don't care if this is spelled correctly) from the library.

She was all, "I'm gonna go check Wendy's pets and see how the roads are. I'll let ya know." And then we hung up. I myself had realized not so much earlier that the office still had not been tidied up and she would have no where to sleep if she made it.

I decided to bank on her making it and started to clean the office, which duals as her very warm bedroom when she's down. It had gotten a bit out of control with the rapidly approaching and passing holidays and my recent need to actually work on and finish projects. Hubby kept him self busy making a really pointless and time consuming graph of our heat efficiency in comparison to this time last year, which was just after we'd gotten here and were still leaving the door open all the time to move stuff in and out. He was harassed about this sometime around color coding for clarity and then he quit it.

Around 2:30 pm, BEG called back to let me know that the roads were fine. Apparently all was not fine with Wendy's fish though...

www.toothpastefordinner.com

...and BEG had to give them a proper burial at sea. We briefly mourned the loss and then she was on her way down. I started to wait and realized a couple hours into it that I was starving my ass off since I had not eating anything yet. Finally, she called again from the road and let me know she was just an hour away and also starving.

We booked out of my house nearly right after her arrival, both starving and ready for The Tripod dinner and other coming weekend festivities.

Along our way to The Outback for dinner, we decided to start our own fight club...except without fighting since girls just aren't like that and the few that are dangerous and belong in a nut farm. They don't just mean to fight, they mean to kill.

Wow, veering off-topic again. If this was a driving test, I would so be failing already.

We decided on Knit Club, not that I can knit or anything. Someone my dumb fat aunt knows was supposed to teach me and then she got sick and didn't. I also bought a pc instructional cd but never got to it. Regardless, It was funny and I think it had something to do with making soap when the conversation originally started.

The weather was super shitty, freezing rain and the roads were a nightmare, but we made it to The Outback and found KP had already masterfully scouted and snagged us a table in the bar so we could smoke at will (There's a system to getting a smoking table...it involves stalking and snarling and pretty much general contempt). This was followed by drinking, eating and torturing in a way only girls can, our poor, little puppy-like, twenty-one year old waiter Stephen and many overhead explanations of his 'FLARE' not to mention our consistent mockery of it.

Due to my new Nicole Ritchie style stick figure personage, BEG and KP kept demanding I eat more. I ate a lot in the first place and then me and KP shared dessert, which there was too much of for either of us or us together even to actually finish. Plus the pecans made it kind of gross. Some nuts are just better in theory.

...And I just took some time out to think about poor nut execution...which led to a shelled peanut in an electric chair...moving along now...

It was concluded, sometime around the time when KP's wrongly very rare steak arrived that everything involving The Tripod leads back to fish. I don't remember why or how this one even started but everything after that all weekend ended up back at fish when reversed. It's like we're psychic or something. Also, the things that didn't lead back to fish, led back to having something to do with a 70's bush.

There was much discussion of Stephen's trainable 'puppy' qualities and putting him on a leash in the same fashion as the former 'Puppy' who has now been outed from the circle due to the fact that he turned out to be not-changeable at all. We had a leash handy (a gift to me from KP) so it wasn't so far off. There was also contemplation of lubricants with Stephen's young and into masturbation boy input and other refinements and trying to convince Stephen to come out with us when he got off work.

He was reluctant since he already had plans to go to an underage party and especially since his younger love interest was just a few feet away, but then he decided after much coaxing and reminding him that he was 21 and had no reason to go to an underage party, he and a friend would meet us at the bar. And then we were out of there and on our way to The Landmark.

Arrived at the bar, got drinks, poked at the internet jukebox. We totally misplaced the existance of Stephen in our heads temporarily when BEG started playing Pat Benetar for me and we had to pow-wow about which Duran Duran song we'd like to hear. When we remembered like an hour into it, we looked around for him and his friend (BEG was the only one who bothered to look at the friend when Stephen pointed him out to us at The Outback so she was the only who knew what he looked like). They weren't there. Whatever!

We hung out for a bit chatting with other friends there. I actually climbed a booth and over Neil's head because the dumb-fucker refused to move (He actually said, "But I'm comfortable here."). KP followed suit. It was hilarious.

Stephen never actually showed up and if he did, we didn't see him or remember him or whatever. I imagine he may have been there but we were sitting at a table, us three girls, surrounded by six extraneous men. They were little boys and probably too imtimidated to show their faces.

Also there was the perfect strange grouping of people that came in together. BEG decided that all they were missing was an indian in full head-dress. This too was hilarious considering it was an a man and woman, parent types, a butch foreign lesbian, a lipstick lesbian, an extraneous middle aged woman that really didn't look like she belonged with them and a small Asian man. Too funny!

We got the hell out of there, taking KP back to her car. BEG and I returned to my house to find hubby, his friend Otto (He looks like Otto from The Simpsons, but without the hat and bus) and Shortleash camped out in my living room, mostly drunk and playing video games. The house was still relatively clean though so my week spent cleaning for the parties had been for nothing.

BEG and I exchanged Christmas gifts. It was splendid. I got her DDR 3 with the dance pad for her X-box and she got me the gothy Tinkerbell hoodie I wanted but couldn't ever seem get in my size from the Hot Topic. There were other gifts, but these were the most important.

Since there was a lot to be accomplished first thing Saturday, Shortleash booked home (Yeah, I know, all the way across the street), Otto crashed on the couch (I suspect extreme laziness prevented this one from leaving), BEG hit the cot and me and hubby our bed.

Saturday morning we got up with much, much party supply shopping to be done. I figured out that there was no way BEG's small car would fit all the necessities so we took my SUV and we headed out on our journey for everything under the sun apparently.

First, we hit Target since there was still a shortage of lampshades in my house and Coke products were still on sale. I bought a bunch of shit I wanted, but didn't really need including two, yes, count them, two, My Little Pony Butterfly Island Adventure playsets. Also, there was another hoodie I didn't have and knee socks to match (Yes, there were knee socks I didn't already possess)!

This was followed by Walmart where very nearly everyone was swearing and feisty about the general state of the store and their lack of open and properly functioning check-out lanes. Then Best Buy, McDonalds for much needed re-fueling, and then the grocery store for all that we may have missed at the other stores. All but one store involved two full carts (I'm not counting BEST BUY since I only went in for one thing and accidentally spent a small fortune on other umpulse buy stuff) and my SUV was packed to max capacity.

It took three of us to unload the car and just about an hour to put stuff away or as away as it was ever going to get in a house preparing for two gatherings one of which was that very night. Then we prepared for the New Year's Eve festivities by sitting on the couch and waiting. This was followed by the arrival of KP, Christmas gifting with her, and then after moving some furniture BEG and KP played DDR.

Hubby had rigged the laptop to the big TV and for some reason (I say this because we live in WI) we were listening to KROQ. That song, which I don't hate, by Deathcab for Cutie came on and we chatted about how it was a terrible and scary band name. This made KP bring up how back in the day, I had declared Green Apple Quickstep to be the end of band names when they showed up on the Basketball Diaries soundtrack. This is also the portion of the evening when it was decided that if we ever started a band it would have to be called FISH & THE 70'S BUSH, although, I'm not quite sure which, if any of us are 'FISH'. After that, Shortleash, Miss Maddy's Mommy and Little Miss Maddy finally showed up.

Miss Maddy's Mommy is knocked up again so she basically just hung out and watched TV or rather the Windows media player on the big TV. BEG played My Little Ponies with Miss Maddy and my pregnanat Midge doll was busted out for our mocking of it and the hilarity of Little Miss Maddy playing with it. Midge at one point actually gave birth to a rabid little tykes puppy at one point (for more on this please see http://pluralofapocalypsedeux.blogspot.com) And then they left since the mommy had to work on Sunday.

I think the birth of the puppies was what caused BEG to start hitting the bottle. Although, she did take the time to clean up all the toys and then yell at Shortleash about babysitting his kid all night. Of course, Little Miss Maddy loves coming over to my house because I give her whatever she wants and we actually pay attention to her unlike her own people.

It was around this time we had a group weigh-in. I think this was mostly due to everyone harassing me about my new stick figure personage and BEG calling me 'Ms. Ritchie' or 'Nicole'. As it turned out, I had lost another eleven pounds. This only seemed to make the natives more bitchy about my current weight loss situation. Anyway, we moved on.

Here are some photos of what came. Also, I think this is only the second instance of all three legs of The Tripod being photographed together...

This is The Tripod actually behaving...and I think I may have been freezing

Also behaving...for the most part. KP eyes are closed as they usually are in pictures. I think she secretly longs to be Asian.

This is the group fondle. There was a lot of this going on all weekend. Fondling each other...fondling ourselves!

BEG enjoying the spoils of Shortleash's trip the the most gigantic liquor store ever!

Clearly, me. Although I'm not sure why I was doing this. Not too sure why we are the way we are in any of the pictures, however I do know that there are more pictures of my underwear and my making funny faces than anything else.

Funny faces made by me...

Jazz hands...

There seems to be no real explanation for this either. However, fairly entertaining.

There was a call to Tyler made by BEG and KP, and a strange message left on Andy's voicemail from me. It was something like, "I don't know what to do. I'm panicking!" which was then followed by a few seconds of argument amongst the legs of The Tripod. This was all because Shortleash was flipping his shit on the phone with someone in my kitchen and he was being loud and distracting.

Also, there was suspicious ghost activity. You see, Shortleash and I had accidentally poured one too many glasses of champaigne and that glass got left on the newly moved into the house dining room table. Shortleash walked all the way passed the table talking on his cell on the table side ear, got all the way passed and about a foot a way and the wrongly poured glass flew off the table and hit the floor. Strange. This was declared, the work of my ghost(s).

Anyway, Sunday was the party involving family, to which thirty or 33 people were invited and for which BEG and I had done all the shopping the previous day. We, three spent all morning cooking for practically no one since only like fourteen people showed up, most of the invitees having come down with some suspicious illness at the last possible second. I don't believe any of them and neither did anyone else.

We kept praying the cross-dressers would show, but we couldn't get a hold of them when they were called. We should have sent hubby to the gay bar to round them up and lead the way back here. It would have been hilarious if nothing else.

There was also fighting and arguing with my bastard, gay uncle who decided it was polite to come into my house with his husband and just start disregarding everything I had to say and poking around in my stuff. Thanks to him tormenting my dog (Belle) she peed in her crate and was mental having never been around so many people here before. He was asked to leave her alone several times and to not give her table food, but as I said he's a bastard and disregarded everything I had to say. He also called KP rude when she lit a cigarette. I was all. "This is my goddamned house and we're smokers!" I don't remember having gotten the memo about the world now revolving around him but then again, The Tripod was also very busy all morning as stated with food prep for 30.

This insanity caused me and BEG to start drinking and we were literally giving away tri-plates of food to whoever we could find outside, namely Sammy and Ronnie. Yesterday, Ronnie declared, 'Damn those white girls can cook!' Apparently he was also interested in getting more, but was too polite to ask.

Oh, by the way, we made some fancy-pants stuffed shells (three trays worth) and garlic butter boneless chicken breasts. Plus there were fried red tomatos marinaded in tequila and other assorted goodness and standard party foods. My mother brought barbeque in the often traded back and forth crock pot.

Anyway, my mother did the dishes for me, which is cool since I HATE washing dishes! They are the bain of my existence! Finally, everyone left which was a welcome relief and it was declared that either we are just not doing this second party next year, or we are getting sworn statements from everyone claiming they will attend.

It was too much work and mostly for nothing. We basically could have spent the time we spent cooking for the assholes, making a splendid breakfast for the ones that actually counted and had a quiet morning of relaxing after the night before spent really partying.

Post asshole departure, we camped out, snacked (there was some taco dip abuse when Otto tried to put the lid back on the tray and instead it went flying into the air raining down shredded cheese and olives) and watched a streak of funny movies and then Serenity. We were in bed by 1 am which was good since none of us had really slept since Thursday night.

Hubby and Otto made breakfast for me and BEG on Monday morning. I think this was sort of a payback effort for all our hard work having gone basically unnoticed by everyone but the two of them. KP missed this, having gone home Sunday night. Sorry, KP. If it's any consolation, I broke the tooth the dog cracked in half on a piece of bacon and now need far more dental work.

BEG left for home around noon and was followed shortly thereafter by Otto. Hubby and I resumed our search for properly fitting lampshades. I still don't have any!

And thus ends the holiday tour of madness! Next up, January 8, the seventh anniversary of me and hubby (not the wedding anni though, this is just how long we've been together this time around). It's completely surprising there hasn't been more bloodshed.