There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


Mental diarrhea

Yup, yup, yeaahh. Feelin’ pretty full of myself right now. Like I just drank a case of Crunk. On top of the world…

See, I just got my Xmas card from one of my many bosses. It had a bonus in it. Jealous? I can feel your envy radiating at me through the ether, and I say unto you, “Envy me! I am the shiznit, and ye shall bow down before me.”

Oh, yeah, some of you get your fancy-pants stock options, but what can you buy with those? (A future? Peace of mind? Pshhaw.) Nope, I’ll go ahead and keep my bonus, thank you. Because nothing says “Thank you for uprooting yourself, putting up with being crapped on, living like a college student, and putting up with our insufferableness” like £25 in gift certificates to the grocery store.

Two of the funniest movies you’ve never seen:

The Wrong Guy: Dave Foley. Everything about this movie is funny. At the beginning, before everything goes terribly wrong, Foley plays a guy who works at a mega-corp sort of place. Pay careful attention to the set and the clothing. I don’t understand why so few people know of/own this movie.

Rolling Kansas: Thomas Haden Church. Yeah, that guy from Ned and Stacy and Wings. Rip Torn redeems himself for that Men In Black crap. I learn the recipe for wine spodie-odie. Kevin Pollack is back to the funny. It’s a stoner movie that’s funny when you’re not stoned.

When my friend Cookie got married, one of those legendary evenings ensued. It seemed like it might be rather inauspicious to start with, as the hair girl who “did” my hair just sort of messed it up and stuck a couple of bobby pins in it then charged me $80. She literally took two handfuls of my hair and tied them into a knot. “$80, please.” What can you say? The whole wedding party was there being groomed, so throwing a fit wasn’t really an option. You know how tense brides are…

So, you know, it was early June, which in Texas can be balmy or hot, and that day chose to be hot. It was an outdoor affair. The location was a b and b sort of place near downtown Texas, very stately, very nice, run by a very odd couple. There was all kinds of family drama going on, as always happens, due to the fact that the groom’s family are what we might call “atypical.” His cousin, let’s call her Sheena (she’d like that), is the biggest closet lesbian I’ve ever met. She is so in hate with this fact about herself that she is rabidly homophobic and tries to pick fights about the subject. She damn near got into fisticuffs with the man of honor because he’d had a manicure to look purty for the wedding. I mean, first of all, he’s a man and he’s on the bride’s side, plus he got a manicure. There was so much intrigue and whispered gossip and selfish tantrumming before that wedding… I’m telling you, the fact that Cookie’s dad looks like a muscular Samoan man is the only thing that kept things from spiralling out of control.

Her brother looks like he was cloned from her dad. We found him passed out in a bedroom in the b and b a few hours before the wedding. He had a bottle of Pepto-Bismol next to him. When he came to later, he said he had eaten six avocadoes for breakfast. He’ll turn up later in the story.

So, the wedding went off quite well in spite of a fairly sizable white trash contingent who just didn’t get the whole “understated elegance” theme and thought there would be a carnival.

Cookie had to yell “Slow down!!” at me when I took off toward the front steps where the ceremony was being performed, because apparently the bridesmaids aren’t supposed to gallop down the aisle. Other than that, I don’t think I made a big arse of myself. I accidentally stepped on Greg’s feet when I made him dance with me. I swilled a lot of champagne. The usual.

Then, the after-party. We went to one of the few cool places in downtown Texas, having changed out of our gowns and ties. We met up with quite a few other wedding guests, one of whom is Cookie’s co-worker. She is very attractive, recently divorced, has four children, and was looking for some booty because she had an all-night babysitter. She introduced herself to Greg, grasping his hand in hers and rubbing it against her nipple. Yup, her boob copped a feel of his hand. He, of course, had a big smile on his face. I had my mouth wide open. We settled in at our table, and Cookie’s co-worker started sort of making the rounds of the table. Pollinating. She came and sat by us for a while, and at some point, reached over and rather energetically checked out my rack. On the plus side, she told me I have nice tits. There really is no minus side. At this point, you can guess what the equation forming in Greg’s mind was. Keep in mind, we were already hammered. Thinking that it was only polite, I felt her rack, too, but she was wearing a uber-wunder-bra system, so all I got was a couple of hands full of scaffolding. She said her boobs were all flat and flappy from having all those babies. Greg didn’t seem to mind.

By this time Sheena had joined us, as had the man of honor, whom she had deemed her nemesis because she was certain that he’s gay.

More bars. A lot more drinking. Cookie’s brother, the non-Samoan, had joined us by this time. Like the co-worker, he was looking for some bootage. He just wasn’t sure who he’d give it up to yet. Many interesting conversations ensued. Greg didn’t have any of those, because he was stuck with Sheena’s “boyfriend,” who was a geologist and couldn’t talk about any other topic. She and her boyfriend had never shared any kind of intimacy.

Because she is obsessed with all things gay and how much she hates them, that’s all she wanted to talk about. So Sheena kept asking me if I had ever kissed a woman. I told her that I hadn’t. She took this as proof that I agreed with her point of view, so I had to let her know that the only reason I hadn’t is because I had never had the opportunity. She, in disbelief, said that she didn’t believe I would ever kiss a woman. Oh, ye of little faith. Seeing as there was only one way to prove it, I went ahead and laid one on her. She didn’t seem to mind as much as she said she would.

While this was going on, Cookie’s co-worker was downstairs doing lap dances for people. Every so often she’d come upstairs and try to keep her options open with Cookie’s brother and grab my boobs.

At some point, Sheena demanded to witness more girl-on-girl love, so I had to make out with Cookie’s friend, too.

I’m sure a lot of other stuff happened too. Greg was might disappointed that Cookie’s friend did not come home with us that night. An awful lot of speculation swirled for months about just whom she got booty from that night, but so far, no one will confess.

Some months later, Greg made a lewd aside to the fact that he’d done a bridesmaid on a patio after a wedding. I got miffed and told him I didn’t want to hear that stuff. Then he reminded me that it was me and I felt dumb.

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