Our dirt bikes bring all the boys to the yard. Damn right, they're better than yours.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

S'up, fools?

So, a blog, huh? How new-fangled! I was in Winnipeg this weekend for a delicious turkey-eating marathon with the big-haired guy I like to call my boyfriend when word of Some Cats Are Bigger Than Others came down the interweb pipeline. Trevor and I did a little soul-searching about whether the title was a clever metaphor for a group of people, you know, doing things, and thus Chris thought some of us “cats” were “bigger,” i.e. doing things, bigger than some others who, like, work at Pizza Hut or something. It hurt my brain a little, so I decided it was just a reflection of Chris’s love of cats. His pillow is actually a sac of cats, you know.

Anyway, on the topic of “doing things,” here’s a rundown -- in handy point form -- on what I’ve been up to for those who I’m too much of a jerk to keep in frequent contact with: I went to a flamboyantly gay psychic who told me I’m going to be giving birth to a baby boy and moving to France in the next year (he told me to bring a sweater); I ate the shit out of two Thanksgiving dinners and a wedding dinner; pretended to know the names of about 200 of Trevor’s family and friends’ names; decided once and for all -- after seeing a body bag being pulled out of a downtown hotel, observing approximately 3,571 rotten-toothed hobos stumbling into and/or attempting to mate with inanimate objects, and over-hearing a shirtless man in a truck mistake a big outside display of painted polar bear statues as “mooses” -- that Winnipeg is the sketchiest place in all of Stabtown; got hung up on by the singer of the Dandy Warhols; ate steak with Billy Corgan; asked Franz Ferdinand which one of them takes the longest to go to the bathroom; bowled my best game with a score of 137; fell down a couple of times; and, after writing this list, came to the conclusion I’m hopelessly uninteresting and disastrously unfunny. Neat!

Now, I leave you with a photo of Trevor wearing a helmet that was bolted down to some posts outside the reception area of the last wedding we went to, which we stole after getting so sloppy drunk that it was decided he required the helmet to avoid hurting himself. If you think this was the most embarrassing that happened groom that night, however, think again: on the way home, while his mother was driving him and his new bride to their hotel, the best man decided it was time to profess his undying list for mom. The story, as I’m told, is that he drunkenly insisted the groom’s mom “pull the car over” so they could “do it right here.” Awesome. ''

4 Comments:

Blogger Chris! said...

I totally have that same tie. But not the helmet, sadly.

1:04 PM

 
Blogger Superdude said...

Tales with the correct number of utterly absurd situations have a place in Allah-heaven beside Allah. Your seat is reserved, absurd collection of anecdotes!

3:36 PM

 
Blogger Dave said...

Awesome indeed. But a few things: 1) Why was there a helmet bolted down outside of a wedding reception? Was it part of a statue or something? 2) You actually brought the helmet to another wedding in anticipation of needing it? Did you bring it in a backpack? 3) Uh, did that guy do it with the groom's mom? With the helmet on?

Either way: cool.

11:51 PM

 
Blogger Heather said...

1) The wedding was held in a structure out a rugby field. Said field was just outside the building where consumption of deliciously cheep wine was being served. To "decorate" the aforementioned field, all the posts around it were topped with hundreds of these helmets, each carefully bolted into place.

2) The first helmet was acquired at a wedding in September after a toolkit was spotted in the back of another guest's truck that would allow us to successfully remove the gem from a post. Before the second wedding, which we attended around Thanksgiving, a reconnaissance mission was executed to acquire another helmet, just in case. No backpack was required. We weren't ashamed of our intentions to drink our way out of that Roman Catholic old-person fest. When the “Bird Song” came on right after “Brown-eyed Girl” we knew it was time and our choice was a good one.

3) He didn't get to do it with the Groom's mom, but he did fall on his face after getting dropped off and, like a giant karma sac-kick, scrapped the lust-face right off of him on some loose gravel.

7:53 AM

 

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