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J.Ho called Steve to ask if she could bring two more to the party.

Issue Date: Wednesday, Jun. 13, 2007

Happy Wednesday!

Wednesday’s suck.

Who said that?

I did. And I’ll say it again, Wednesday’s suck.

And why, pray tell, do they suck?

It’s the middle of the week. It’s called hump day when I am sure that no one is getting humped while at work in the middle of the week, unless you work on the set of, “Oh, Cum All Ye Horny”.

Did you just make up a title to a Christmas porn movie?


Dude. You are so going to hell.

Moving on. So, let me tell y’all about the weekend in Houston.

Wait! First, to Lulu, Mr. LuLu and their precious gem. Yes, I suck. I am sorry I did not call you while Mister and I were in town. Accept my apologies? Please?

When J.Ho called Steve to ask if she could bring two more to the party, he was all, “Sure, who is it?” Jen: “Sue Momma and Mister.” Steve: “Woo hoo!!!!!!” Jen: “Don’t tell anyone. It is a total surprise!” Steve: “Okay, I promise.”

Five minutes later, on the phone with D’, Steve: “Dude, Susan and Mister are coming with Dave and J.Wo... whoops, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Act surprised!” D’: “Whatever.”

Five seconds later D’: “Hey Glo, Sue and Mister are coming to Steve’s party. Don’t tell anyone. And... act like it is no big deal that they are there.” Glo: “Huh? Oh, alright.” D’: “And don’t tell anyone.”

Point five seconds later: Glo (on the phone with Brenna): “Sue’s coming to the party tomorrow! WOO HOO!! Oh, and don’t tell Jay.” Brenna (shouting though the house): “Hey Jay-bird!... Sue-Momma is coming to the party this weekend! Oh, but act surprised!”

So, Friday at about 3:15 I headed out the door. Already booking over 50 hours for the week before the day even started was a bonus. I drove over to drop Samantha* off over at Mister’s office and then packed the remaining stuff in the Tahoe and waited for Mister to come downstairs. We started off at about 3:30 and hit a nice little traffic jam on the way out of Dallas.

Who knew?

*My prized, dear little sassy Chevy Equinox. She was treated poorly while we were gone. Something that left poop the size of a chimichanga on my driver-side window was the tell tale sign of, oh... I’m guessing a turkey buzzard using my beloved car as its perch for its morning constitution on Sunday. Bastard.

So we made it to J.Ho & Dave’s house at approximately 8 or so. Great directions, by the way. And then we went to this teeny little bar in the Heights for food and booze. No booze for J.Ho as she is the pregnant. We talked a bunch and then headed back to their perfect home for a little napping (and from me: a lot of snoring**).

**More on this later.

A bit about their home. When I was wee and I couldn’t make up my mind between being a trucker or a ballerina when I was older, I imagined myself living in Manhattan in a brownstone walk up or a loft apartment. Their house? Was sort of what I always dreamed of with the hardwood floors, the awesome brushed nickel doorknobs, the fantastic accent lighting, the gorgeous marble counter tops, and the amazing toilet paper dispensers. And if you think that a toilet paper dispenser can’t be awesome? Well, then, you just haven’t been to their house now have you? HAVE YOU? I didn’t think so.

So we slept in, Dave made breakfast because he loves us and cherishes us and really appreciated the WINE I brought for a housewarming gift. WINE that his wife can’t drink because she is the pregnant and allergic to grapes.

Yes, we’ve been over this. I suck. Moving along.

So we all got dressed in our finest hanging outside in Houston when it is 111 degrees in the shade and has about 98% humidity wear. Wanna know what that looks like? Put on a pair of jean shorts (or jorts as my brother in law calls them) a tank of some sort, flip flops and sunglasses that are so scratched up that even if your vision wasn’t like that compared to some subterranean shrew you wouldn’t be able to see out of them. Perfect!

After we got dressed we went to a store to get a bathing suit for Mister and some more booze.

You can never have too much booze.

And then, we sweated a lot and got to Steve’s House.

They had changed the menu from Crawfish to Barbeque as to be more kid friendly and also because crawfish can stink like a bitch if the trash is not immediately disposed of. And spicy. And also, it was hot outside. So yes. Barbeque.

Did I tell y’all that I have started drinking beer again? I figured that it would be too hot and humid and also very pansy-like and a total pain in the ass if I would have gone for my normal liquid imbibement. (Is so a word.) “Dear sir, I say, would you mind terribly making me my sixtieth gin (BOODLES!) and tonic with limes for the day?” And then whoever the “sir” was would have punched me in the neck and that can call for a bad Saturday all around. No? Yes... yes, it would.

So, I thought to myself, “Self, what would Stacey drink?” And myself answered, “Michelob Ultra.” So I got myself a twelver of Michelob Ultra and commenced to drinkin.

Also, I got sunburned from walking from the truck to the back of Steve & Laura’s house. It was a hot sumbitch.

I am also translucent, pretty much, so white I am blue. So there you go.

Nobody was surprised when we walked in. Wonder why?

I went and changed into my swim suit and then applied the Neutrogena spray on cooling sun block in SPF 45 which was deemed by Dave as, “That smells like douche.” Lovely! So, I had everyone smelling me and my douche-ness all day. All the women, “Dave, you are so smoking crack, that does not smell a thing like a douche.” And all the dudes, “Yeah, you smell like a douche.” Then the lesbians chimed in. “Dave, she does NOT smell like a douche.” So it was considered a win/win. Lesbians smelling me and my spray on sun block and NOT smelling like a douche.

There were like eighty-four kids in the pool, seventeen families and about twelve sets of couples. It was a big shindig. There was an old fat dog, a couple of old (cute) fat men and babies everywhere.

We all swam and played toss the kid and then at sundown the adults called, “ADULT SWIM! All munchkins out of the pool!” And they played water volleyball and my handsome (and tall) husband, along with Jay and Dave wiped the other team out 5-2. So while they were all being “Oooh-rah!” and spiking the ball, the women were up on the porch, smoking, drinking, talking and visiting with one another. It was an awesome day that I wish could have lasted at least another 48 hours.

The hostess had made some lovely desserts in the form of Jell-O™ shots with rum (for the first round) and with chocolate liquor for the second round. I had twelve (okay five... six?). There were also buttery nipple shots which I thought was something that you only do if you are really getting shit faced. Well it turns out that I only had two beers in the cooler when we left at midnight, so. Well, you do the math.

After we left we went to the 59 Diner and I made inappropriate exclamations over the sprinkles on my vanilla shake and then brought up tea-bagging and mimed a donkey punch again, after apparently hitting on our waitress.

You cant take me anywhere.

Sunday was for sleeping in, packing up and getting everyone together for lunch at Star Pizza. Which was awesome. Everyone left from there for home and I already miss them.

Thanks guys!

Oh, and Mr. Lulu... D’ said, “Tim said your diary was like crack.” That’s a compliment, right? Or were you talking plumbers? Hairy and unsightly.

Remind me to tell you guys what I did yesterday. It involved my nostrils, and I know that everyone is always up for a good nostril entry. Right... RIGHT?


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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