Baby baby baby oh…

What a weekend. It started oddly and ended even more oddly.

The middle was good though.

Let’s do this in order:
Friday evening was the school dance. It was a horror show. Here are my comments:

at the school dance. expect this to resemble a twitter page tonight. question: should a woman my age know the words to any justin beiber song?

Not sure what my favorite Macarena memory is. Could be my father in law at the wedding. Could be when we got Ketan to do it that one time.
Both were improbably awesome

These kids know the words to these rap music songs. Yes, I said rap music songs

Thriller? It’s only 6:40 and they’re that far down the list? Songs I won’t hear include: in da butt and I wanna sex you up

The current song is either being sung by chipmunks or I just had a stroke. In either case, send an ambulance and 3 fingers of rum

You can feel it (it’s electric)

There is little dancing. Mostly its 100 screaming kids beating each other with balloons. Every parent is buried in their phone

I went to get myself a water. A bulging, rippling woman in a Tinkerbelle shirt (irony anyone) grabbed my hand and said “grownup?” I said “last I checked” I was given a larger bottle. It does not contain vodka I’m sad to say

20 minutes later we have not crowned a limbo winner

Fog machine + no ventilation = bad.
I got gloss on my lips. Man on my hip.

Know the “everybody clap your hands song?” It doesn’t work well when half the kids get the steps wrong because they can’t tell left from right (my child is in that half)

Some “best of both worlds” song just came on and, in unison, each kid hit the floor and writhed and screamed. What the hell was that?

These songs all have organized choreography. In my day (leans on cane) all we had was the electric slide
/shoos kids off my lawn

Large breasted mother’s shirt reads “I’m not short. My (obscured by the underside of said breasts) is”. And it is Macarena time again

The world better prepare for another billionaire…or in my case, another drunk 36 year old.

The gym has 2 city certificates. One says over 170 occupants is dangerous. The other says 540 people. What?

So, Shmuppie had a blast. There was no dancing. Just a lot of running around by a mass of children. Of course, the dance was for kids in Kindergarten through 5th grade so the mix of people was strange. Parents were also dancing, including one mother in way too small of a dress (she looked like an overstuffed sausage) gyrating suggestively.

I also saw a woman who bore a striking resemblance to the girl I dated in high school. Well…she would have if she’d decided to forgo trying anymore, buy a large purse and found it acceptable to go out in public in knee-high argyle socks and fuzzy slippers.

The parents all looked horrified and tried to avoid eye contact with each other. We could have banded together but all chose to go through our own personal hells on our own. Because, without booze, what was there to do?

I went home and drank too much wine.

Saturday: FAIR DAY!

Wisely, we set out to go to the far at about 9:30. We arrived and found the fairgrounds mostly empty. We were able to move through the front half and all of the animal exhibits in no time. Moo was having a really good time and was in a good mood. She enjoyed all the fried goodies we were giving her. The crowds picked up as we hit the main midway, but it still wasn’t bad. It turned out that they set the single-day attendance record on Saturday, but we were gone by 2:30 and missed most of the crowds.

By that time, I was done. Moo had been strapped to my chest all afternoon and I was sore in places I didn’t know could be sore. She had also gone from happy to exhausted to furious to asleep and was a rather dead weight hanging from me. Shmuppie, despite not admitting to any fatigue, fell asleep on the bus.

It goes without saying that Saturday’s dinner was a large salad. We needed vegetation to fight off the afternoon. For reasons unknown, Moo was in a great mood at dinner and ate a slice of pizza, 4-5 shrimp, some feta cheese and some salad. She’s an odd little duck.

All in all, we had a really good time and now have a plan for next year; arrive early, leave early.

Sunday:
We really didn’t have much planned, but isn’t that how it always goes. By the end of the day, I’d been skewered by a wire fence and been threatened by some white trash.

My father needed me to run up to their house in the morning to winterize their fish pond.

Remember their pond?

They have problems with a blue heron who likes to come by and spend the winter eating their fish. So, they spread this claptrap of wire mesh across the pond. My father’s got a bad knee, so I was drafted to assist. We uncoiled these evil spools of mesh, stabbing ourselves multiple times and more or less covered the pond. As I understand things, this isn’t a 100% foolproof method of pond covering. One winter, as I understand things, the heron came to visit and then got stuck under the mesh. My father had to scoop/fish an angry heron out of his pond. Oh, I wish I had been there that day.

We got the pond set and I went home. We went to the store and I limped my ass to the couch for some football. Shmuppie and I made a lovely dinner of chicken thighs in a light tomato sauce. It was served over spaghetti. All it really needed were some kalamata olives to put a really thorough Greek spin on it. But, it was good.

Oh look…the little red light on my blackberry is flashing. I have email. Could it be?

Yup.

Dingaling had gotten herself good and drunk and wrote back. Needless to say, I was called every name in the book, sworn at and told that if I ever emailed them again I’d be sorry.

Did an employee of the State of NC just threaten me in an email send from her State of NC email address? Could someone be so foolish?

Yup.

JewelrySlut and I had a look at it and shook our heads. Not smart…not smart at all. I could send this to her boss and she could find herself in some hot water.

Right before we sat down to eat, the little light started flashing again. Quasi was answering!

I was called a crybaby because I didn’t like that I was getting calls at work. I was told that I had made Dingaling angry because I had insulted her (I’ll wait while you go to Friday’s post to re-read the email) and that I shouldn’t make her mad (Hulk get mad. Hulk eat at Hardees!). I was also told that both JewelrySlut and I had insulted them and that we had made it known to them and their family how we felt about them. And that, more or less, I should fuck myself.

Did I also mention that he’s a state employee using his state email address?

Great. Now those 2 sacks of shit are all riled up and, for all I know, ready to come firebomb the house.

Monday:
I had yet another dentist appointment. In the waiting room, the little red light started flashing.

Dingaling had sobered up. She told e that they had spoken to their lawyer and that he advises that I could tell anyone who called that if they kept calling, my job could be in jeopardy.

Hmmm…interesting. Let’s parse that sentence, shall we?

“Their lawyer” They’re not the types to keep a genteel southern gentleman (I suspect he wears seersucker all year long and looks downright rakish in his bowtie and suspenders) on retainer. This means they have a need for a lawyer.

Calls at work putting a job in jeopardy: Happen to you guys much lately?

Hmmm…sounds like someone’s in a bit of trouble. I’d guess that now would be the wrong time to call them and see if we could buy their Wii off them. We’re getting one for Christmas, but if I can save a few bucks and help out a family member…I’m that kind of magnanimous.

So…they seem to have a mess on their hands. You know…you could have said that from the start and not acted nasty. We didn’t start out nasty…it only got there once I got involved.

We won’t see them or communicate with them again until JewelrySlut’s father dies. I just hope they have a phone so I can call them.

Pictures tomorrow.

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