So what's been going on?
Quick summary of the past few days' events, primarily for my own benefit.
Friday night was McKenna's birthday party at the White Horse. Pretty much the entire bar was there for the fiesta. Matt got ragingly drunk. Laurel and I drank Frank's beer behind his back. I think someday we might be friends again.
Saturday I went to Mike's for some Rifftrax action. Turns out that The Island of Dr. Moreau is so bad that even clever quips can't distract from its soul-crushing awfulness. But it was nice to hang out with everyone. Afterwards Frank and I went to a screening of a USC movie that Laurel starred in. It was showing with three other movies, and Laurel's was the best. It is always a relief when your friends are in stuff that is good.
We were chatting with Heath at the reception afterwards when the sky opened up and it started pouring, thus putting a damper on our plans to head out to Dave and Buster's for Mike's birthday. Word on the street is that they didn't have any air hockey, so it's probably good that I didn't go, because if I had driven (or ridden, rather) out to Orange County and found out there was no air hockey, I would have burned that place to the ground. Or at least complained about it all night. I think everybody dodged a bullet there.
Frank and I got some dinner with Laurel and Heath, then headed to Martha and John's place because it was apparently Martha's birthday (I think?), and that was a good time. I like those kids.
Sunday Paul called and asked me if I was coming to play four-square. I told him I had forgotten all about it and Paul was like "Well you should come down!", apparently not remembering that I don't own a car. Suffice to say, I did not make it to four-square. Does four-square have a hyphen? Ben would know.
Last night was margarita night at Big Wang's. I finally told Mike that he's in a good enough place now where I can admit that I don't like him and that we are Friend Divorced. Glad to get that off my chest! On another note, when Lindsay and I have both had bad days we should probably not be allowed in the same room together. It will only end in stupid arguements. It was kind of a pokey night but then the Hollywood Female team showed up and Laurel got to yell about her hatred of movies where animals don't talk but are treated like people. Good times.
Friday night was McKenna's birthday party at the White Horse. Pretty much the entire bar was there for the fiesta. Matt got ragingly drunk. Laurel and I drank Frank's beer behind his back. I think someday we might be friends again.
Saturday I went to Mike's for some Rifftrax action. Turns out that The Island of Dr. Moreau is so bad that even clever quips can't distract from its soul-crushing awfulness. But it was nice to hang out with everyone. Afterwards Frank and I went to a screening of a USC movie that Laurel starred in. It was showing with three other movies, and Laurel's was the best. It is always a relief when your friends are in stuff that is good.
We were chatting with Heath at the reception afterwards when the sky opened up and it started pouring, thus putting a damper on our plans to head out to Dave and Buster's for Mike's birthday. Word on the street is that they didn't have any air hockey, so it's probably good that I didn't go, because if I had driven (or ridden, rather) out to Orange County and found out there was no air hockey, I would have burned that place to the ground. Or at least complained about it all night. I think everybody dodged a bullet there.
Frank and I got some dinner with Laurel and Heath, then headed to Martha and John's place because it was apparently Martha's birthday (I think?), and that was a good time. I like those kids.
Sunday Paul called and asked me if I was coming to play four-square. I told him I had forgotten all about it and Paul was like "Well you should come down!", apparently not remembering that I don't own a car. Suffice to say, I did not make it to four-square. Does four-square have a hyphen? Ben would know.
Last night was margarita night at Big Wang's. I finally told Mike that he's in a good enough place now where I can admit that I don't like him and that we are Friend Divorced. Glad to get that off my chest! On another note, when Lindsay and I have both had bad days we should probably not be allowed in the same room together. It will only end in stupid arguements. It was kind of a pokey night but then the Hollywood Female team showed up and Laurel got to yell about her hatred of movies where animals don't talk but are treated like people. Good times.
posted by Jeff at 8:51 AM
7 Comments:
"We were chatting with Heath at the reception afterwards when the sky opened up and it started pouring...."
I suddenly realize that the vegetable tray I used as a rain shield is still sitting in the back of my car.
"Frank and I got some dinner with Laurel and Heath, then headed to Martha and John's place because it was apparently Martha's birthday (I think?)"
It was just a holiday Glogg party. Martha was born on the fourth of July. That's the opposite of Christmas.
"It was kind of a pokey night but then the Hollywood Female team showed up and Laurel got to yell about her hatred of movies where animals don't talk but are treated like people."
What?
Like The Incredible Journey? Or March of the Penguins?
Also, Laurel is a speciesist.
"Maybe I should have tried to make it through to the post-pokey portion of the evening."
Don't worry, Jenni. It was still pretty pokey, even though the conversation was clever. Like My Dinner with Andre.
"It was just a holiday Glogg party. Martha was born on the fourth of July. That's the opposite of Christmas."
Not as opposite as being born on June 25th. Now if we only knew just one person born on that day, then we could have a party.
I have no idea where I got the idea that it was Martha's birthday. Perhaps because of Matt's recent festivities? I don't know. Fortunately my fundamental impoliteness meant that I never erroneously wished her a happy birthday.
i don't know what pokey means.
but to answer Frank-
Either animals must talk or animals must be regarded as animals.
If a non-talking animal is treated like a person it's JUST STUPID!
"Pokey" (also spelled "poky") means "slow" or "dawdling." When I was a very small child, one of my favorite books was The Poky Little Puppy. He was the member of the litter who kept falling behind to look at caterpillars and snails and things. So for years (until, honestly, I was at least seventeen), I was under the impression that "pokey" meant "curious and inquisitive." 'Cause, you know, that puppy was always poking his nose into things. I thought this was an admirable trait.
I think this may explain a lot of my current problems.
Also, Laurel, I still don't get you. You mean like in the Disney "Sleeping Beauty" or "Pocahontas," where the heroine has animal friends, but they can't speak?
"Either animals must talk or animals must be regarded as animals.
If a non-talking animal is treated like a person it's JUST STUPID!"
ok, but remember, thinking of animals as little people is the basis of modern veterinary medicine, I NEED people to think of animals as little family members and spend LOTS of money on them. The more money I get paid for animal medical care, the more money I have, and the more money I can give to Team Atrox to make things to amuse me.
:)
I had "The Poky Little Puppy's Wonderful Winter Day." He frolicked quite a bit in the snow, that puppy.
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