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July 04, 2005
That Old Party Joke Pt 1
Saturday I went to Sweetney's (not) Fourth of July Party. Instead of crashing the party with nothing but empty hands that need filling with beers Emma and I decided to bring some food. So before leaving we whipped up some cupcakes and little pirate flags on toothpicks to bring to the party.
"There are going to be kids there."
"Yeah, I know. I probably shouldn't run around naked then."
"No. I mean, what if the kids stab each other in the eyes with the toothpicks."
"Oh yeah. Kids do that sort of shit all the time. I didn't think of that. I only thought not to wear my shirt that says 'Eat shit and die.'"
Thankfully the kids didn't think to poke each other in the eye. The only poking I saw going on was when I poked one of the toothpicks through my tongue. At least I hope it looked like I was poking it through my tongue. I don't want to find out that I had a nasty pickled lamb tongue in my mouth for 15 minutes or so sucking it in and out and nearly gagging only to find out that the kids weren't even convinced it was my tongue. Granted, the fact that I stuck toothpicks through it should have tipped them off already.
But they're just kids. I expect them to be tricked. Not like adults. I only expect them to be half as amused as me.
Like the night I pulled my sausage out. I didn't expect anyone to think it was my penis. It was like 4 feet long, for Christ's sake. I just thought it would be funny.
After skipping Thanksgiving my mom had been bothering me to spend time with my family for Christmas, and I finally gave in. I told them I'd go up from Ohio, where I was living at the time, to visit them in Wisconsin for a week.
"Bring some of those sausages" my dad said.
"But they're only selling them this weekend. Won't they go bad?" It was the weekend after Thanksgiving and some people I knew slaughtered a pig and made some sausage.
"Know it won't go bad. It's smoked, right?"
"Yeah. They're selling smoked and double smoked."
"Oh. Double smoked. Get me five pounds of that."
"You think it'll keep?"
"Yeah. Just keep it in the fridge."
When I loaded up my truck with some Christmas presents, the sausage, and my dogs, who I didn't trust in the hands of my neighbor for a week -- considering last time I left them with him, for only two days, I returned to find him nearly passed out on his porch with a bottle of Carlo Rossi while my dogs ran around the neighborhood tipping over garbage cans -- I noticed the sausage was moldy. So I called up my dad and broke the news to him. I say "broke the news" because he's a bit of a sausage fanatic -- which may explain why I have a pound of horse sausage in my fridge at this moment.
"Just wipe it off. It'll be fine."
"Dad. It's this slimy mold. It's pretty gross."
"It's just on the outside. Wipe it off and it'll be fine."
So I did as told and started on my way.
Around that time I was going on road trips quite regularly and I thought it would be fun if I challenged myself never to eat on days I was on the road. That came in handy with respect to the moldy sausage, but it didn't work out so well when I made it to Chicago.
I showed up at my friend's house -- just to say "Hi" -- and he insisted I go to a party with him.
"Hey, Bob's having a party at his house."
"Sweet. Let's go."
I figured the sausage would be fine in the wintry Chicago night and I arranged for the dogs to stay in Bob's garage while I drank."
"Bob. I'm putting my dogs in your garage, ok?"
"Isn't there some place else you can put them?"
"Bob. I can't leave them in that cage in teh back of the truck. And besides, they seem to like it in your garage."
"What? They're in there already?"
"Yeah. What do you have to drink."
I knew I was drinking on an empty stomach, but I ddin't think too much of it. After a few stiff drinks I wasn't thinking much at all. In fact all I remember was hitting on on of the few girls at the party. I told as much to the friend that brought me to the party.
"Dude. That girl is pretty hot. Either that or she's the only girl at this sausage fest."
"Yeah. Go get it!"
"What? Go get what?"
"Didn't you say you brought some sausage?"
"Yeah. So?"
"Go get it."
"Why?"
"Stick it down you pants and pull it out in front of her."
I immediately ran out to my truck.
Posted by calculatoronfire at July 4, 2005 02:30 PM
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Comments
those cupcakes were all the rage.
the pickled tongue? not so much.
Posted by: sweetney at July 5, 2005 09:10 AM