Tattoos, 10 years, and a cup of cranberry juice.

Just so you know, there's nothing more exhilarating than asking your fiancé where the fingernail polish remover is and then using it to remove permanent marker from your fingernails under her less than excited glare. I also had fun stripping down to get in the shower Sunday morning and seeing all my new faux tattoos drawn on with blue highlighter, especially the "I heart dick" on my arm. This is in addition to the huge ejaculating penis drawn on my inner left thigh, the upside down cross on my right thigh complete with "666" and "SATAN!" next to it, respectively... and several illegible things written throughout my body. Holy shit. Looks like Saturday night was a doozy!!
It all started out at my 10-year high school reunion. You know, there's nothing more polarizing than walking into a packed room with people you haven't seen in a decade. Especially getting there late and everyone already being there. I had a fucking blast though. I'm one of those people who loved high school. I hated middle school and everyone in it, but I loved my senior year and mostly my entire class. If I could go back in time, that's what I'd set my flex capacitor for. Either way, it was so great talking to everyone and just getting generally shitty with old friends. The one question I got tired of hearing was "So how have you been" and I eventually tried to work things in like "Oh man, my life is awful. Ok. Just kidding" and things of that nature.
Regardless, eventually the 4 hour time limit we'd rented Roux House for was up, which means its time for the North Gate Tavern after party. Now here's where things get a wee out of hand. There's nothing worse than a drunk person having control of an entire bar and seeing everyone from his high school ask for liquor. Because that drunk person is going to give everyone he sees as much liquor as he can. And yes, that's what I did. I was running back there and completely invading my bartenders' space, grabbing outrageously expensive bottles of shit and pouring like a 6 year old with a jug of Kool Aid. After my 10th shot (at least it seemed like that), someone should have taken me out with a tranquilizer dart. I'm going to start ordering the doorguys to put me in a sleeper hold once I pass a certain threshold. Do you think you could do that, Danny? Aren't you into wrestling?
Well, then I decided to try and dye my dick red. Yes, really. I asked for a 16oz cup of cranberry juice and submerged my junk in it. Then I just walked all over the place with a cup of red, sticky liquid on my wee-wee. As luck would have it, the bar was closed at this point. While most of us were ordered to get out, I decided to walk around in the back parking lot and assault the other NGT employees off the clock with a plastic cup and a lack of all respect for myself. I'm trying to largely block most of this out, because I'm not the type to engage in exhibitionism. I have heard people drink cran to treat urinary tract infections. Perhaps I got this backwards and tried to go from the outside in. I just remember people recoiling in horror as I was running around.
The next morning as I'm walking to my car, I saw Nicole outside the back door. "You were pretty naked last night. We expect that kind of behavior out of Joe, but we thought you were better than that." I showed her all of my new tats. I asked why nobody drew on my face, and she told me that luckily Joe told everyone not to because I "had stuff to do today". Thanks, Joe. So there is what happens at my 10-year reunion. It's time to bring some humility back to the table though. I've been out of control the last couple of weekends. I think I have some pretty good reason. How fucked up is it to have your little brother's bachelor party, his wedding, and a high school reunion in 3 consecutive weekends? I mean, come on. Thats the kind of stuff you should stretch over years. At least months. I'm dealing with weeks, people. So cut me some slack.

Anyways, now I guess I'll have to top it at my 15-year reunion. And in case you're wondering, cranberry red is only temporary. You'll have to go with something stronger for a longer effect but my guinea pig days are over. Why doesn't somebody else do something stupid soon? It's my turn to make fun of you!

Linens and Things.

The other day Joe called me to find out where my brother is registered at for his wedding. I told him Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I thought that was where it was. I mean.. doesn't that seem right? Apparantly it was not. Here is a transcript of the conversation we had about it:

JoJoD272 [9:34 AM]: How do?
CPT2117 [9:36 AM]: well haloo!
JoJoD272 [9:36 AM]: You lied to me.
JoJoD272 [9:36 AM]: Patrick is not registered at Bed Bath and Beyond...
JoJoD272 [9:37 AM]: LIAR!
CPT2117 [9:37 AM]: i know. i'm sorry. my mother said you called.
JoJoD272 [9:37 AM]: I did...
JoJoD272 [9:37 AM]: I talked dirty to her for a while.
CPT2117 [9:37 AM]: perhaps i meant a little BEYOND Bed, Bath, and Beyond...
JoJoD272 [9:39 AM]: Ahh, it was like a Da Vinci Code riddle that I had to unravel...
JoJoD272 [9:41 AM]: Bed, Bath, and Beyond.... Hmmm... three B's
JoJoD272 [9:41 AM]: Bluebonnet begins with a B'
JoJoD272 [9:41 AM]: But there is no Bed Bath and Beyond on Bluebonnet!
JoJoD272 [9:42 AM]: Bleah...
JoJoD272 [9:43 AM]: Did you know that the "things" in Linens and Things are sex toys and illicit drugs?
JoJoD272 [9:44 AM]: Patrick will be receiving a set of anal beads and 1/8 of an ounce of crystal meth for his wedding.
CPT2117 [10:04 AM]: that is fantastic.
CPT2117 [10:04 AM]: i guess "Linens and Illicit Drugs and Sex Toys" was a little too long of a title.
JoJoD272 [10:05 AM]: exactly...
JoJoD272 [10:05 AM]: My mom used to always call tampons "things"
JoJoD272 [10:05 AM]: What if they only sold linens and tampons?
CPT2117 [10:05 AM]: then they'd be "Linens and Tampons".
CPT2117 [10:06 AM]: I think that would be wildly succesful.
JoJoD272 [10:06 AM]: How about a store called "Used Linens and Tampons"
JoJoD272 [10:07 AM]: How would that one fare?
CPT2117 [10:07 AM]: Hmmm... Maybe "Linens Used For Tampons"
JoJoD272 [10:07 AM]: Or tampons used for linens
CPT2117 [10:08 AM]: That would look good spread out on your bed. Your Used Tampon douvee.
JoJoD272 [10:09 AM]: They would be all the rage in Paris.
CPT2117 [10:10 AM]: For all we know, it already IS all the rage.
CPT2117 [10:10 AM]: What's up with that phrase. "All the rage".
JoJoD272 [10:11 AM]: It sounds like it wouldn't be a very good thing...

Various Thoughts

You know that little decorative added weed in a bouquet they call "Baby's Breath"? Why do they call that baby's breath? What in the fuck does that have to do with a baby, and more importantly... its breath? That makes no sense to me at all. If your baby is exhaling that shit, it is not a beautiful thing. Something is very wrong.

This weekend while staying in a hotel room, I was wondering why it's an industry standard to not be in the room when housekeeping comes in and cleans. I just want to stay in there one day. When they come in, see me laying on the bed and say "Oh, I come back soon...", I just want to go "No. I want you to clean it with me in here. I want to see what you do." Then I will ask for their autograph.

In our old bandroom, located in a garage behind Paul, Adam, and Talley's house, we'd get the cops called on us every time we practiced. But why is it that if a car alarm is going off in your apt complex at 4 in the morning, nobody does shit? It can just go off all night. Over and over. I think I'm going to test this theory by starting a band that sounds just like a car alarm. We'll play 45 minute sets in various apt complex parking lots. I'm working on our myspace profile now.

The Bachelor Party. Part One

There's nothing that says "congratulations on getting mairred" better than a 2 day bender in New Orleans, and this past weekend has become the newest testement to that. My brother is getting hitched this weekend, so last weekend we serenaded him with a drunken send off that classically asks Where-Am-I-and-what-the-fuck-am-I-doing...and it was better than ever. Two days in the French Quarter always equates to a lot happening and never being able to remember much, but there was certainly enough that I do remember to get down on paper to make for a fairly interesting blog.
First of all, let me give you a little background. It was a joint bachelor party combining my little bro's wedding party with Jeremy O's court as well. He's getting mairred in July sometime, and since most of the particpants know each other, we got 4 hotel rooms and invited around 20 people. Everyone was arriving at different times, so we were bouncing from room to room just bullshitting about what we were gonna do while waiting for other people to get there. All of a sudden, the room bursts into excitement upon arrival of a most animated member of the party. I don't want to name the person directly because of possible destruction to his professional career, but for all intentional purposes of this story, we'll call him Bobby.
Bobby is related to someone in the party, so although he doesn't know many of the people well (because they're mostly friends of the two grooms), he has become fairly acquainted with them over the course of the 4 trillion parties we've attended in the last few months. So he gets there, walks into the room with beers in hand screaming, "LET'S PARTY, MOTHERFUCKERS!" and going on and on. So everyone is sort of looking at him blankly while he's going "WOOOOOOO HOOOOO. Shit. Let's go get fuuuuuucked up. You ready? Huh?" and so forth. So we're making our way down the hallway to the elevators and Jeremy has to fill out this sheet of paper with all the cars on it to get some sort of comped deal on parking, to which Bobby responded with "I drive a Mercedes. A fine one...". Then he broke into a sprint to the elevator. We're all looking at each other with worried expressions. This was going to be a long night and we didn't know what the hell was up with him. Was he going to get us beat up, kicked out of places, arrested...
As our elevator is making it's way down to the lobby, there was a woman who was already on it who was standing as far away from us as she could get. Bobby looked at her and called her a whore or something before we finally got to the bottom floor and he ran through the lobby and out the door. We were all gathering up and looking at him outside the glass doors when this fat guy and his wife walked up trying to walk into the hotel. Bobby started dancing on the back of the woman, to which her husband looked at him and said "What the fuck are you doing, asshole...". When they finally were able to get inside, the man told us "You better watch out for your friend there because he's about to get some fucking stitches"
We were walking down Royal looking for a restaurant while Bobby was leading the way with his arms extended above his head in a Y, taking long strides and swinging his arms around. He then ran back to me, pointed at a pile of trash and said "Wouldn't it be cool if you ran up that ramp?"
I answered back, "Um, that's not a ramp. That's a pile of trash."
"Oh. Well... Wouldn't it be cool if it was a ramp?"
"Yes. It would be great."
We ended up at a pizza place. Bobby sat at the head of the table while everyone else tried to get to chairs the farthest away. Unfortunately Brandon, Jeremy, and Chris were the slowest to sit down and were stuck next to him. We were all talking about various things while he was knocking everything in front of him onto the floor. When the waiter came to take drink orders, Bobby looked at him impatiently and shouted "Whiskey!" Then he started telling everyone at the table that they sucked and everything was bullshit. Once he was given his whiskey and the waiter was taking food orders, he again tried to order whiskey. The waiter told him he had his whiskey to which he continued to ask for more whiskey before he finally gave up on him and started taking other orders.
I told the waiter to bring him some breadsticks. Once they'd came, he started devouring them and making a huge mess. When he'd finished his breadsticks, the waiter came to clean up the table. Bobby looked at him and said "Queer...". The waiter was like "What did you say" to which Bobby replied "Nothing." Knowing we were all doomed, Rhett called down to the waiter and said "Man, look. We're sorry about thim. He's been drinking all day and just not in real good shape." The waiter went and got a much larger waiter who started baitingly asking "IS EVERYONE ENJOYING THE FOOD? IS THERE A PROBLEM?" while glaring at Bobby. We finally managed to make it out on our own conditions while Bobby apologized for his actions. Over and over. And over. And over...
Then we made it back to the hotel to meet Joe, Adam, and Blain who had finally made it down. About half of us decided our next stop would be the hotel bar. Bobby decided he'd join us. He ordered a round of tequilla shots for us all. It was still a little early to start with shots, but we thankfully accepted, and raised to a toast of the two grooms. We all leaned our heads back and took the shot, while Bobby ackwardly dumped his all over his face. He wiped it off with his hand, sat and stared into space for about 2 minutes and then left. Although I suppose it was the thought that counted, Joe reluctanly paid his $45 tab as we eventually left the bar to take on the night.

High School Era Summer Construction Days Of Yore

The other day I was fondly remembering the days when me and my pals' immaturity blatantly reared its head at the working mans' expense. Yes, there was indeed a time where I behaved inappropriate at work. Kind of like now, but probably a little more obvious. There was no computer screens to hide behind then. There was no air conditioning. Who could forget... High School Era Summer Construction Days Of Yore.
One day, me and Joe were pinning walls for soundboard around one of the air handlers at a job called Norplant in Hammond. It was a really tough spot to get in, and we would take turns snaking ourselves around the units while the other would apply an extremely toxic glue with the most powerful fumes I have ever smelled to the base of a nail impaled through a perforated aluminum square. There he would pass the gluey pin to whomever was on application duty. Eventually the fumes would get to you and things would stop making sense while your head was spinning out of control. One day Joe began talking like Yoda while trying to get out from behind the unit. "Mmmmm... Stuck back here I am, Yes?". I would laugh uncontrollably. Then he would switch to Aggravated Yoda. "MMMMMMM!! ( in high pitched Yoda voice). Sigh...
Once while renovating a school, I was on a ladder and stripping some old insulation off a pipe running down a hallway. Out of anger of the insulation's persistance, I took a razor knife and while screaming "MOTHER FUCKER SHIT FUCK", gouged a portion of ceiling tile into bits. There were a few teachers in the building preparing for the upcoming school year, and I hadn't noticed one of them walk out of a classroom. She looked up at me and said "Well, that's nice". I then saw my buddy Dustin standing behind her laughing uncontrolably.