I woke up this morning in a bathtub full of ice. A note in my hand read "look in the mirror." There, written backwards on my chest but now forward and readable in the mirror, were these words written in red lipstick "Douchebag, you got really wasted and we had to remove your liver to save it. Just kidding, ass." Holy crap honestly I couldn't even remember where my blog was. Maybe it was hanging out with my liver in a tub of ice. I'm not going to lie to you guys, I had a few gin and tonics saturday night at Sarah's birthday party and, well, they done me wrong. They treated me shitty. In short I got jobbed. What I did not do was puke. What I did do is drive a carload of people home at least 50% of which puked. Dammit that was a great party.
This is me in the women's restroom. This is normal for me when I'm donning a sweet sweet 70's porn 'stache.
This is me and horface trying to reproduce the profile shot but at the bar. My wife is in the back there looking pretty hot but making a weird cheese smile face and trying to sabotage my profile shot.
Today I should be hanging out all creepylike in the women's restroom or I should be a pizza delivery guy delivering a pizza "with sausage" to a bachelorette party and some awesome bow chikka bow bow music.
Highlights of the day:
- Sarah being asked by her friends who've never met me "who is that guy with the mustache" and for real telling them "I have no idea."
- Danielle inviting me to the ladies room for a photoshoot and spinoff party.
- And the following conversation
Sharda: "where are we now?"
Danielle: "2 minutes from your house"
Sharda: "oh ok good"
John drives for 20 min
Sharda: "where are we now?"
Danielle: "2 minutes from your house"
Sharda: "oh ok good"
Danielle: "2 minutes from your house"
Sharda: "oh ok good"
John drives for 20 min
Sharda: "where are we now?"
Danielle: "2 minutes from your house"
Sharda: "oh ok good"
8 comments:
I heart John! Even Aunt N hearts John and she is really old. Thank you for not posting any pictures identifying me, especially the one where we kissed for your wife so I could know what it is like to kiss a 'stache. You've allowed me to stay employed another day at the damn college where I teach America's children. -Steph
ha... I downloaded the pictures from my camera and I was like "hey I guess I kissed Steph, nice"
Believe it or not, that 'stache gives you a kind of Errol Flynn thing. Or maybe Cary Grant. Anyway, classy.
Or like a Pancho Villa thing.
Haven't you always had a mustache?
No?
Weird.
If I hadn't been aware of the week of morph-staching and you asked, "do you notice anything different about me," I probably would have said something like, "did you get a haircut?" or "hey, you finally got contacts." Apparently you were born with a face made for a cheesy porn 'stache.
As I thought about your week of beardsmanship, it dawned on me that you would have made a lame Transformers action figure.
'Mustachius Prime - Kids have the power to change your beard into any configuration they want. Then, once clean shaven, wait one month for the fun to begin all over again.' (On a side note, I looked up the Transformers characters and apparently there is/was actually one called Side Burn. True story.)
I had given up on your blog, but checked it just for the hell of it this am... holy crap the birthday thing was awesome. The chopper v stache is primo. You would be drinking for free wearing that configuration in a few bars around here.
Nice job.
There's actually a transformer I made for John. Maybe he'll post it.
I haven't laughed so hard in a long time. The 'stache experiment was awesome. I wish I worked with you.
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