Darles Chikken's "A Tale Of Two Pities"
So... it's a New Year. And like any New Year, it should start off with a bang.
"When old friends get together, all else fades to insignificance." - The Four Horsemen Of The Apocalypse
New Years tradition: Get together with old (and not-so-old) college friends, drink like fish, and party like it's 1999. This has been our staple activity for the better part of a decade, and it shows no signs of slowing down. Quite the opposite.
Day One: 26 December 2005
It started off slowly, as I met fizrep for dinner at a tex-mex restaurant. He said "Just drive east until you see the big sign that says "EAT!". That's it." Doubting Thomas though I was, I followed his directions, and verily, there was a gigantic towering sign that commanded "EAT!" They made a compelling argument. Inside, his lovely Latvian lass and I debated on what makes "the best sea salt available", while fizrep himself poured that sea salt on everything he could get his hands on. I guess he answered the question for us.
fizrep and I continued north to Ithaca, encountering, to our dismay, the stronger part of a snowstorm sweeping in from the southwest. Now, if there's anything I hate, it's driving in really bad weather. And it was some heavy snow, completely obliterating the road surface at times and blowing in con mucho gusto. Amazingly enough, we did not die, although our 3.5 hr trip turned into about 4.75 hrs. Curses.
Finally we arrive and do some shopping for food supplies. We know we're going to be holed up in dancingsaracen's apartment for several days, so we purchase appropriately. And by appropriately I mean nothing even remotely resembling "appropriate". Snacks and chips, some meat and sammich fixings, soda, donuts, and a batch of gigantic hot dogs. Oh, and alcohol.
We get to dancingsaracen's apartment, unload and unpack, and set up a LAN. The gaming, drinking, and bad eating began there.
The less that is said about the next four days, the better. Honestly.
"Anyone who uses the phrase 'as easy as taking candy from a baby' has never tried taking candy from a baby." - Robin Hood
One of the minor disruptions to our ongoing week of goofing off was dancingsaracen's toddler daughter Tara. Tara was mostly happy to observe the antics of either the Veggie Tale gang or the older and venerable Fraggle Rock entourage. As a result, those DVDs were in perpetual motion and fizrep was trapped humming their theme songs ad nauseam. It hurt, lots. On the other hand, she did get out one good word: "Chips". I'm sure it had nothing to do with the 314 bags of chips we had acquired for our use. At least we did get her to say "chips please" or some reasonable facsimile there of. Then again, she might have been asking for "chick peas"; a toddler's language skills often leave a bit to be desired.
Okay, we also taught her how to say "feeb", because hey, you never know when you might be in preschool and some kid is just being a total jerk and needs to be called a feeb. That's just common sense.
Now, one of the other side effects was the need to control our own language. It is a known fact that computer games of all sorts tend to color ones verbiage with certain profane, even sacreligious, terminology. (Reference: The Terrible Mr. G, a veteran player of Counterstrike whose langauge during the game was so colorful that his neighbor planted a tape recorder in his desk, taped his Counterstrike sessions, and then made a remix out of his profanity-laced ravings. Hilarity ensued.) And such language might not be appropriate for those of the two-year-old variety; our vocabulary was definitely suitable only for five-year-olds and up. Hence, any number of situations like this:
"Look out! Look out!"
"Oh ffff-"
"Ahem..."
"-ffffffuuuuudge."
Let it be known that fizrep and I are bad parental units. Fudge yeah.
Day Five: 30 December 2005
We stumble out and expose ourselves to the sun's burning radiation. We have taxed our bodies too far; we need greater sustenance. Only a Chinese Buffet can save us now. And it does.
For those of you who recall the famous "That's not a bowl of donuts!" incident, we think we found someone who ate that guy.
katieledge and Miss Latvia 2005 arrive that evening. Our party relocates to Moe's house where we also find mshenzi. Some drinking ensues, unsurprisingly. The Vanilla Stoli vanishes out of time and space. Curious, that.
"I drank what?" - Socrates
Terminal Day: 31 December 2005
For year's end, the snow chooses to kick into Maximum Overdrive. Typical. In true Murphy's Law fashion, this is the day that most people have chosen to drive on. This leads to quite a bit of delay. But it does not stop us.
fizrep, katieledge, and Lady Latvia go snow tubing. No injuries occur; this would be different from one of my previous forays into winter sports, in which a snow tube attempted to murder me. Meanwhile, dancingsaracen and I relaxed at Chateau Moe and prepared ourselves for the evening to come (read: bullshitting, coffee. Strong coffee.). And then we went out to acquire supplies for the party. The other team came home, cleaned up, and headed out.
What strange turn of events took place next is tough to explain. Who do we meet in the supermarket parking lot but fizrep's ex-wife and her husband. Weeeeeeird. Unexpected. Foreshadowing? Nope. Just random oddness. Good thing fizrep missed that. Heh.
So, on to party. Anthony and Ella were our gracious hosts, and they prepared a feast supplemented by our ample stock of liquor. The perfect combination, I say. Up until Ella broke out Dance Dance Revolution.
Let's revisit an old statement: I can't dance. White man rhythm, two left feet, no hip, the whole nine yards. And, after that night was over, I can safely confirm that my dancing skillz extend in identical fashion to Dance Dance Revolution. Forward, Back, Right, Right, Double? WTF? Fuck you, Dance Dance! Double step my ass!
Let it be said that we were fortunate that Karaoke Revolution did not work from the get-go. Karaoke would have been an ugly sight. And sound.
So, back to drinking. katieledge prepared a vast pot of mulled wine (mmm, spicy). Moe brought some champagne. renospalace, vulgarbarbarian and Mrs. vulgarbarbarian brought more gin. shepholland and perkyczarlet brought more gin, and other goodies. kikimoose and chrysoberyl brought forbidden donuts. Someone brought cookies. The affair was a veritable smorgasbord orgasbord orgasbord.
Somewhere early on, we had a moment to toast to the distant: Kodos, angledge, ladybugbutt, marasca. Thousands of miles do not dull the memories. Alcohol does that well enough.
Ok, one thing about Dance Dance is it does burn the calories away. I'll give you that, Dance Dance.
So much food and drink did take its toll on all of us in one critical manner: We missed New Year's.
A New Year: 1 January 2006, seveal moments later
A few minutes late, we break out champagne and tequila shots, initiate a countdown of ten, scream HAPPY NEW YEAR, hugs and kisses all around, and hooray for all.
And another tequila shot.
Oh yes, let's do some Flaming Dr. Peppers too. And I'll wash it down with more mulled wine.
Oooh, beer!
Fortunately, the healing powers of "Kung Fu Hustle" restored my senses. Or maybe it was the sugary cookies. It certainly was not Dance Dance. ckirkman, this would definitely NOT have been the right time for Guitar Hero. Hoo boy.
Tune in next time for the exciting conclusion of this event: The Second Scavenger Hunt, in which our heroes create art, crown a young new pope, consume sugary death, and revisit the Goldilocks myth.
"When old friends get together, all else fades to insignificance." - The Four Horsemen Of The Apocalypse
New Years tradition: Get together with old (and not-so-old) college friends, drink like fish, and party like it's 1999. This has been our staple activity for the better part of a decade, and it shows no signs of slowing down. Quite the opposite.
Day One: 26 December 2005
It started off slowly, as I met fizrep for dinner at a tex-mex restaurant. He said "Just drive east until you see the big sign that says "EAT!". That's it." Doubting Thomas though I was, I followed his directions, and verily, there was a gigantic towering sign that commanded "EAT!" They made a compelling argument. Inside, his lovely Latvian lass and I debated on what makes "the best sea salt available", while fizrep himself poured that sea salt on everything he could get his hands on. I guess he answered the question for us.
fizrep and I continued north to Ithaca, encountering, to our dismay, the stronger part of a snowstorm sweeping in from the southwest. Now, if there's anything I hate, it's driving in really bad weather. And it was some heavy snow, completely obliterating the road surface at times and blowing in con mucho gusto. Amazingly enough, we did not die, although our 3.5 hr trip turned into about 4.75 hrs. Curses.
Finally we arrive and do some shopping for food supplies. We know we're going to be holed up in dancingsaracen's apartment for several days, so we purchase appropriately. And by appropriately I mean nothing even remotely resembling "appropriate". Snacks and chips, some meat and sammich fixings, soda, donuts, and a batch of gigantic hot dogs. Oh, and alcohol.
We get to dancingsaracen's apartment, unload and unpack, and set up a LAN. The gaming, drinking, and bad eating began there.
The less that is said about the next four days, the better. Honestly.
"Anyone who uses the phrase 'as easy as taking candy from a baby' has never tried taking candy from a baby." - Robin Hood
One of the minor disruptions to our ongoing week of goofing off was dancingsaracen's toddler daughter Tara. Tara was mostly happy to observe the antics of either the Veggie Tale gang or the older and venerable Fraggle Rock entourage. As a result, those DVDs were in perpetual motion and fizrep was trapped humming their theme songs ad nauseam. It hurt, lots. On the other hand, she did get out one good word: "Chips". I'm sure it had nothing to do with the 314 bags of chips we had acquired for our use. At least we did get her to say "chips please" or some reasonable facsimile there of. Then again, she might have been asking for "chick peas"; a toddler's language skills often leave a bit to be desired.
Okay, we also taught her how to say "feeb", because hey, you never know when you might be in preschool and some kid is just being a total jerk and needs to be called a feeb. That's just common sense.
Now, one of the other side effects was the need to control our own language. It is a known fact that computer games of all sorts tend to color ones verbiage with certain profane, even sacreligious, terminology. (Reference: The Terrible Mr. G, a veteran player of Counterstrike whose langauge during the game was so colorful that his neighbor planted a tape recorder in his desk, taped his Counterstrike sessions, and then made a remix out of his profanity-laced ravings. Hilarity ensued.) And such language might not be appropriate for those of the two-year-old variety; our vocabulary was definitely suitable only for five-year-olds and up. Hence, any number of situations like this:
"Look out! Look out!"
"Oh ffff-"
"Ahem..."
"-ffffffuuuuudge."
Let it be known that fizrep and I are bad parental units. Fudge yeah.
Day Five: 30 December 2005
We stumble out and expose ourselves to the sun's burning radiation. We have taxed our bodies too far; we need greater sustenance. Only a Chinese Buffet can save us now. And it does.
For those of you who recall the famous "That's not a bowl of donuts!" incident, we think we found someone who ate that guy.
katieledge and Miss Latvia 2005 arrive that evening. Our party relocates to Moe's house where we also find mshenzi. Some drinking ensues, unsurprisingly. The Vanilla Stoli vanishes out of time and space. Curious, that.
"I drank what?" - Socrates
Terminal Day: 31 December 2005
For year's end, the snow chooses to kick into Maximum Overdrive. Typical. In true Murphy's Law fashion, this is the day that most people have chosen to drive on. This leads to quite a bit of delay. But it does not stop us.
fizrep, katieledge, and Lady Latvia go snow tubing. No injuries occur; this would be different from one of my previous forays into winter sports, in which a snow tube attempted to murder me. Meanwhile, dancingsaracen and I relaxed at Chateau Moe and prepared ourselves for the evening to come (read: bullshitting, coffee. Strong coffee.). And then we went out to acquire supplies for the party. The other team came home, cleaned up, and headed out.
What strange turn of events took place next is tough to explain. Who do we meet in the supermarket parking lot but fizrep's ex-wife and her husband. Weeeeeeird. Unexpected. Foreshadowing? Nope. Just random oddness. Good thing fizrep missed that. Heh.
So, on to party. Anthony and Ella were our gracious hosts, and they prepared a feast supplemented by our ample stock of liquor. The perfect combination, I say. Up until Ella broke out Dance Dance Revolution.
Let's revisit an old statement: I can't dance. White man rhythm, two left feet, no hip, the whole nine yards. And, after that night was over, I can safely confirm that my dancing skillz extend in identical fashion to Dance Dance Revolution. Forward, Back, Right, Right, Double? WTF? Fuck you, Dance Dance! Double step my ass!
Let it be said that we were fortunate that Karaoke Revolution did not work from the get-go. Karaoke would have been an ugly sight. And sound.
So, back to drinking. katieledge prepared a vast pot of mulled wine (mmm, spicy). Moe brought some champagne. renospalace, vulgarbarbarian and Mrs. vulgarbarbarian brought more gin. shepholland and perkyczarlet brought more gin, and other goodies. kikimoose and chrysoberyl brought forbidden donuts. Someone brought cookies. The affair was a veritable smorgasbord orgasbord orgasbord.
Somewhere early on, we had a moment to toast to the distant: Kodos, angledge, ladybugbutt, marasca. Thousands of miles do not dull the memories. Alcohol does that well enough.
Ok, one thing about Dance Dance is it does burn the calories away. I'll give you that, Dance Dance.
So much food and drink did take its toll on all of us in one critical manner: We missed New Year's.
A New Year: 1 January 2006, seveal moments later
A few minutes late, we break out champagne and tequila shots, initiate a countdown of ten, scream HAPPY NEW YEAR, hugs and kisses all around, and hooray for all.
And another tequila shot.
Oh yes, let's do some Flaming Dr. Peppers too. And I'll wash it down with more mulled wine.
Oooh, beer!
Fortunately, the healing powers of "Kung Fu Hustle" restored my senses. Or maybe it was the sugary cookies. It certainly was not Dance Dance. ckirkman, this would definitely NOT have been the right time for Guitar Hero. Hoo boy.
Tune in next time for the exciting conclusion of this event: The Second Scavenger Hunt, in which our heroes create art, crown a young new pope, consume sugary death, and revisit the Goldilocks myth.