Monday, August 01, 2005

Well number six has come and gone

Sweet pappy molassy, where do I begin?

First and foremost, Danny Glover put it best when he so eloquently stated “I am getting too old for this sh!t.” Honestly, I am still wiped out from the party, but that’s just how damn good the event was.

When I said people were there to party like Vikings, I meant it. People were definitely rocking a broom Helga style Viking helmet with horns until the wee hours of the morning. Hopefully someone got a picture of that. If not, I am sure there are more than enough pictures of me breaking no less than 4 laws and several morality codes wearing the WWII spiked helmet standing on the back of the go-kart (driven by Shannon), drinking a 40 of Olde English Malt Liquor…which brings me to my next topic, Go Kart Antics.

Yes, I could easily write a four-part miniseries about what sort of deviance resulted from the volatile mixture of a go-kart, malt liquor, and several unsavory individuals. In many ways the precedence for the party was set early on as G-man played chicken with some inbred yahoo from down the street. Thank sweet Jesus for Garvey’s stone cold stare because quite honestly the go-kart he was driving wasn’t a fair match for the mad max style camaro (this car had no hood, or front end to speak of, much less tags or registration) that cleetus was rockin. Mind you, this all happened at the very beginning of the party.

Later on my offroad go-cart adventure ended rather abruptly thanks to my neighbor’s thorn bush. That damn bush scratched the bejesus outta me. Basically I look like Roy after is tussle with the white tiger (minus the whole gimp left side of the face thing).

But wait, there’s more…in the spirit of the whole famous last words, Troy said “clear out of the driveway, I want to try something.” Thankfully, they weren’t his last words, but after his “stunt” I thought it a good idea to pack the kart away for the day.

So, you are probably thinking, gee what a responsible guy, probably the right call to put the go kart away. Well wrong. A few hours later we were back at it again, at least until John Q Law stepped in. Just as Dylan headed down the street a state trooper pulled his cruiser out of the driveway three houses down and give Mr. King a 5 minute speech about how many things were wrong with this picture (no helmet, no lights, unregistered vehicle). Thankfully he let him off with a verbal warning. Apparently he used up all of his citations on cleetus and his camaro earlier in the day.

Matt Ries took his first Beer Bong. And got to ring the beer bong bell to celebrate.

The crabs were good. We almost went through the entire bushel, less the last three magical crabs. I swear, there were three crabs left and I saw people go back and eat more crabs, when I checked the bushel, there were still three crabs. Later I saw people eating crabs again, but when I looked, there were still three in the bushel. Either it was A) magic, B) people were mistakenly eating crab shells, or C) the Donkey Punch lager severely messed up my perceptions.

Josh Gross won the Monster Drive long drive contest by being the first person to give it a shot and subsequently losing the ball. By default he was awarded the title winner of the longest drive contest. Subsequent to being awarded the winner, the ball mysteriously reappeared, but only for a short while (or until the next sucker took a swing and lost it in the jungle of my parents’ backyard.

So was that the end of golf? Nope. Send in the substitute golf ball otherwise known as fireworks. Now I didn’t witness this event with my own eyes (probably for the best) but apparently during the late night firework show, someone thought it would be more entertaining to take swings at the firework fountains while still ablaze. Ha! Take that Maryland and your non-projectile firework laws!

Rob and Courtney were held prisoner in my old room. They locked themselves in and could not get out and remained undiscovered until late Sunday.

Last but not least I found a beer can on the ceiling, not the roof, but the ceiling. Crazy old anti-gravity miller lite (now that’s a light beer!)

SO will there be a number 7? I don’t know. I may pull a Jay-z and quit while at the top of my game. Then again if Lance can do 7, why not me too? I guess we will have to wait and see…

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ben, you are the man! I'm so pissed that I couldn't make it there for the festivities!