If he wants to lick the pole, let him lick the pole: Part II
Right. So I walk into S & D’s place and D regales me with “I thought I sensed someone from the mainland here”. Ha ha. I felt rather conspicuous with my chic blonde hair and groovy wrap. Everyone at the party was really nice. Nonetheless I did find I had a bit of a hard time identifying with my fellow partygoers since: a) they were all paired up and b) they either had babies, or wanted them. Yep. I was the hipster from Vancouver living the life of debauchery and… and online dating. Whatever.
Eventually the majority of the people left except for a couple of D’s friends, who I will refer to as NippleBoy and EngagementFundGuy. Strangely, I seemed to get along with these gentlemen quite well. Possibly because we were all drinking. We went downstairs to watch sports and play sports trivia with a child of eleven? Who bested us all. He was all like, “Who won the all male Ice Dancing Championships of 1997?” and I was like “Ummm… Jarkko Ruutu?”. I hate Ruutu. I like saying Radek Bonk.
NippleBoy looked amazingly like Patrick McKenna from Traders and the Red Green Show. It was a bit weird. He told an interesting story about D licking a pole and the health ramifications and reverse psychology therein. You would think maybe it was a stripper pole, or perhaps a flag pole (perhaps it was a drunken bout of patriotism?), but no: it was a bus pole. Yep. You may as well just put money in your mouth. Ew.
EngagementFundGuy was quite funny also. He has been with his partner for five years and is balking at an engagement ring. This is all well and good. I indicated that after six years there is a large possibility that the problem will resolve itself: in that she will leave him. I’m not bitter. NOT BITTER. I think I also made reference to laying the smack down to the next ass clown that tells me women are complicated. Not only am I out of a six year relationship because he “didn’t believe” in marriage – I’ve wasted six weeks of my precious life on some idiot that can’t even seemingly operate a phone or two-finger type some stilted email from time to time. And no, the fact that we jumped into bed really quickly had NOTHING to do with it. Whatever. Where was I going with this?
Oh yeah, the sports prodigy/eleven year old boy wolfed down two hotdogs while screaming that the television for half an hour, and then trying to touch everything was his Dorito hands. Why do I not want kids, you ask? Because I think white leather sofas are luscious. That, and I can’t work the goddamn kiddy gates. D made a big show of pretending he had installed it incorrectly and getting out his tools to “fix it” in order to make me feel like less of a dingus. Thanks, D.
NippleBoy and EngagementFundGuy left and then S & D went to bed at 10:30. Bitchin’. I didn’t mind because they have way more channels than I do so I stayed up until midnight watching that movie with Sharon Stone, a Baldwin, and Tom somethingorother. Yeah, that was worth it.
The next day S and M (yeah, what else am I going to say?) and I went to tour downtown Nanaimo. I love that, for thirty years, I have been traveling up to Lasqueti and passing by Nanaimo and I have never walked along the seawall or toured the downtown. It was really nice! I embarrassed S by taking pictures of everything. M ate a lot of gravel. Crunchy. Why do kids do that??
Then I caught the ferry home and was left to read Chekhov unmolested. Why will no one molest me? Michael picked me up on the other side and informed me that I had a flat tire. We took it to Canadian Tire. THREE HOURS LATER we left and I watched Borat with him. It’s fun to watch the movie with people that don’t have a frame of reference when you say things like “my moustache still tastes of your testes”. Yep.
And then home again home again, jiggity jig! I had my first day of volunteer work at the SPCA today. I enjoyed it: the people seem nice and the animals don’t talk back. Seriously, how many kittens do you all want for Christmas?
Eventually the majority of the people left except for a couple of D’s friends, who I will refer to as NippleBoy and EngagementFundGuy. Strangely, I seemed to get along with these gentlemen quite well. Possibly because we were all drinking. We went downstairs to watch sports and play sports trivia with a child of eleven? Who bested us all. He was all like, “Who won the all male Ice Dancing Championships of 1997?” and I was like “Ummm… Jarkko Ruutu?”. I hate Ruutu. I like saying Radek Bonk.
NippleBoy looked amazingly like Patrick McKenna from Traders and the Red Green Show. It was a bit weird. He told an interesting story about D licking a pole and the health ramifications and reverse psychology therein. You would think maybe it was a stripper pole, or perhaps a flag pole (perhaps it was a drunken bout of patriotism?), but no: it was a bus pole. Yep. You may as well just put money in your mouth. Ew.
EngagementFundGuy was quite funny also. He has been with his partner for five years and is balking at an engagement ring. This is all well and good. I indicated that after six years there is a large possibility that the problem will resolve itself: in that she will leave him. I’m not bitter. NOT BITTER. I think I also made reference to laying the smack down to the next ass clown that tells me women are complicated. Not only am I out of a six year relationship because he “didn’t believe” in marriage – I’ve wasted six weeks of my precious life on some idiot that can’t even seemingly operate a phone or two-finger type some stilted email from time to time. And no, the fact that we jumped into bed really quickly had NOTHING to do with it. Whatever. Where was I going with this?
Oh yeah, the sports prodigy/eleven year old boy wolfed down two hotdogs while screaming that the television for half an hour, and then trying to touch everything was his Dorito hands. Why do I not want kids, you ask? Because I think white leather sofas are luscious. That, and I can’t work the goddamn kiddy gates. D made a big show of pretending he had installed it incorrectly and getting out his tools to “fix it” in order to make me feel like less of a dingus. Thanks, D.
NippleBoy and EngagementFundGuy left and then S & D went to bed at 10:30. Bitchin’. I didn’t mind because they have way more channels than I do so I stayed up until midnight watching that movie with Sharon Stone, a Baldwin, and Tom somethingorother. Yeah, that was worth it.
The next day S and M (yeah, what else am I going to say?) and I went to tour downtown Nanaimo. I love that, for thirty years, I have been traveling up to Lasqueti and passing by Nanaimo and I have never walked along the seawall or toured the downtown. It was really nice! I embarrassed S by taking pictures of everything. M ate a lot of gravel. Crunchy. Why do kids do that??
Then I caught the ferry home and was left to read Chekhov unmolested. Why will no one molest me? Michael picked me up on the other side and informed me that I had a flat tire. We took it to Canadian Tire. THREE HOURS LATER we left and I watched Borat with him. It’s fun to watch the movie with people that don’t have a frame of reference when you say things like “my moustache still tastes of your testes”. Yep.
And then home again home again, jiggity jig! I had my first day of volunteer work at the SPCA today. I enjoyed it: the people seem nice and the animals don’t talk back. Seriously, how many kittens do you all want for Christmas?
posted by Duder at 10:40 PM
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