black and white
Since I'm in limbo for the moment with my lung, I'll take some time to share my birthday experience with y'all.
Saturday started off nice and homey with me spending the day with Denise and the kids, celebrating our time together, opening gifts (one of our foster sons shares my birthday, so it was busy--or Denise was anyway with baking two cakes...) and spending time with friends. All very quaint, sedate and excellent for what it was. I love being with my family, and I'm glad I was able to share the day so well with my kids just playing with them.
And when the clock chimed eight I was at Ian's. We collected Paul (Dusty had forgotten and went to Sacramento for someone else's birthday) and walked downtown to the U-Bar for car bombs, beer and rum & cokes. Phil skipped out on community service again to come drinking with us and we played a few rounds of pool. I used to be good at working the billiards. That night I sucked (though I won most games, they were due to errors on my opponents' parts).
Ian and I got into a debate (I know not why) over whether a guy is a bigger dick if he demands a girl terminate an unwanted pregnancy or if he says he can't deal and skips out on an unwanted pregnancy (longtime readers will remember my personal experience with this moral dilemma). Of course, both men are dicks as the right thing would be take responsibility and support whatever she decides. This put me in a mood so I bought myself a brain hemmorhage and then everything was groovy again. All of us a good bit pissed, we went on to Duffy's.
Well into my drunk by now, I allowed myself to be goaded into more aggressive pursuit of cute blonde bartender chick, and so I complied. I finally got her name, a lot more flirtation, a lot of water (yes, she watered me repeatedly) and the affirmation from her that I should instead try this out again when I'm not so into my cups. Groovy by me. The girl is adorable.
From there we drifted on over to the Black Cocks White Sluts for some non-alcoholic carbs for the walk home. Ian and Paul drifted ahead, and even further ahead when Phil and I stopped to talk up a couple random girls on the street. One, another blonde, skin damaged from either too much sun, too much smoking or both, grew more and more infatuated with the conversation, with sharing my pita and with staying with us even after her friend grew agitated and threatened to leave her with us (and then did just that--alone). I'm sure she had a name, but I'm pretty bad at those and I was really really piss drunk. Having lost all the boys, we made our way through campus towards Ian's and stopped at the benches beneath the clock tower. Nice good R-Rated fun ensued (I'd had more than a bit too much to drink in order to perform an NC-17 showing, alas) and then we split.
Finally at Ian's, Paul is drunkenly trying to conquer the Star Wars galaxy on PS2 (and demanding I join him) while Ian and Phil are having a drunken argument about comic book writers that goes nowhere for hours because neither of them really had a point to make. I curled up in a ball on half of one of the couches and passed out.
Side tidbit: that night I also learned from Paul that at his band's show the night previous, he got drunk and made out with one of his male friends in another band who then bit a chunk of his tongue off--so he was a bit soured on that. Though the male-on-male kissing was a nice revelation I wouldn't mind following up on later.
Saturday started off nice and homey with me spending the day with Denise and the kids, celebrating our time together, opening gifts (one of our foster sons shares my birthday, so it was busy--or Denise was anyway with baking two cakes...) and spending time with friends. All very quaint, sedate and excellent for what it was. I love being with my family, and I'm glad I was able to share the day so well with my kids just playing with them.
And when the clock chimed eight I was at Ian's. We collected Paul (Dusty had forgotten and went to Sacramento for someone else's birthday) and walked downtown to the U-Bar for car bombs, beer and rum & cokes. Phil skipped out on community service again to come drinking with us and we played a few rounds of pool. I used to be good at working the billiards. That night I sucked (though I won most games, they were due to errors on my opponents' parts).
Ian and I got into a debate (I know not why) over whether a guy is a bigger dick if he demands a girl terminate an unwanted pregnancy or if he says he can't deal and skips out on an unwanted pregnancy (longtime readers will remember my personal experience with this moral dilemma). Of course, both men are dicks as the right thing would be take responsibility and support whatever she decides. This put me in a mood so I bought myself a brain hemmorhage and then everything was groovy again. All of us a good bit pissed, we went on to Duffy's.
Well into my drunk by now, I allowed myself to be goaded into more aggressive pursuit of cute blonde bartender chick, and so I complied. I finally got her name, a lot more flirtation, a lot of water (yes, she watered me repeatedly) and the affirmation from her that I should instead try this out again when I'm not so into my cups. Groovy by me. The girl is adorable.
From there we drifted on over to the Black Cocks White Sluts for some non-alcoholic carbs for the walk home. Ian and Paul drifted ahead, and even further ahead when Phil and I stopped to talk up a couple random girls on the street. One, another blonde, skin damaged from either too much sun, too much smoking or both, grew more and more infatuated with the conversation, with sharing my pita and with staying with us even after her friend grew agitated and threatened to leave her with us (and then did just that--alone). I'm sure she had a name, but I'm pretty bad at those and I was really really piss drunk. Having lost all the boys, we made our way through campus towards Ian's and stopped at the benches beneath the clock tower. Nice good R-Rated fun ensued (I'd had more than a bit too much to drink in order to perform an NC-17 showing, alas) and then we split.
Finally at Ian's, Paul is drunkenly trying to conquer the Star Wars galaxy on PS2 (and demanding I join him) while Ian and Phil are having a drunken argument about comic book writers that goes nowhere for hours because neither of them really had a point to make. I curled up in a ball on half of one of the couches and passed out.
Side tidbit: that night I also learned from Paul that at his band's show the night previous, he got drunk and made out with one of his male friends in another band who then bit a chunk of his tongue off--so he was a bit soured on that. Though the male-on-male kissing was a nice revelation I wouldn't mind following up on later.
posted by dryblown @ 11:14 PM
