Everything I Like Causes Cancer

Where we've been convinced to write a new post on Dec. 2. Stay tuned!

12/28/2007

I Threw Up All Over a Crater

Posted by Gwen | Labels: , ,

I really can't explain how this got started, but while at dinner Saturday night in Chicago it became de rigueur to shoot commercials featuring a bottle of Moon Mountain wine. In this one Zellmannnnn flexes both his comedic and abdominal muscles (you have to wait for Johnny B to finish telling us how good his note was before Z starts):

This is only part of the reason there was a "two-table buffer zone" around us by the end of the night.

Andy, Steve and Johnny B occupy "The Zone."

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2/13/2009

Damn that Sass!

Posted by Gwen | Labels:

I took the day off today to get ready for the arrival of weekend house guests.  Five of my Chicagoland Gang - Johnny B, Mrs. Johnny B, Laugh and Mrs. Laugh, and Scope - are making the trek south on the Double Nickle today to spend the weekend with little ole me and go to the Taste of Soulard, the kick-off event of Mardi Gras here in The Lou.  I'm wicked excited and I have a ton of stuff to do - make beds, clean the basement bathroom (the one I'm afraid of), cook, go to the liquor store, clean - before they get here.


And then I get up this morning to find that my BFF Sass gave me an award for being so awesome.

Now I'm all conflicted about who is more awesome - me for being award-worthy or her for recognizing it?

All kidding aside, I consider Sass an incredible judge of character and was waylaid by the nice things she said about me*.  So much so that I wish she'd picked another Friday to showcase me - doesn't she know that refreshing her blog every five minutes to check for new comments is going to cut into the time I need to get ready?

* Go read them and in the comments tell her how right she is.  KTHXBAI.

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9/11/2008

Squee.

Posted by Gwen | Labels: , ,




This is my friend Johnny B.  You've probably seen him skulking around here lately, he's been commenting every now and then.  


I'm so excited because he will be here later today and is staying for a couple days.





I've been busily readying the guest room and cleaning and cutting the grass and shopping and getting ready.  He and I are throwing a casual beer-in-the-backyard shindig tomorrow night so he can meet some of my peeps.  He's going to be disappointed that I don't have any Christmas trees to burn but I did remember to get wood and starter sticks for the firepit.  

Skylar says, "Come over!  We'll burn some Fatwood and drink a beer!"

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12/22/2008

Pints, quarts . . . I don't know metric.

Posted by Gwen | Labels: , , , ,

Scope already did a bang-up job of telling the highlights of the weekend here and I have little to add but pictures. I especially liked the part in his version where I was dubbed Best Dressed. It really wasn't a dressy affair but I had the dress and I wanted to wear it so I did.

This weekend was like living a scene from The Big Chill, sans dead guy, of course. Although Scope came close to eating the crab dip that had overnighted on the counter and that might've killed him.

The house we stayed in, a lovely bungalow perched at the top of one of the famous dunes in this area, was christened "Scabby Cabin" at some point and I still don't know why. I'm sure there's a story. Are any of the gang out there? How did that get started? Also FYI, I made molds of the locks while John was sleeping and am having keys made. I'm on vacation from the 25th to the 5th. See you there?

On our way there Zellmann and I stopped at a surprisingly good little fish shop in Porter, IN because we were both starving and I really had to pee.

Who am I trying to kid? We stopped because of the name.

There was no heat in the tiny cinder-block building nor was there a potty. Thankfully, my internal organs froze while we ate thereby eliminating the pressure in my bladder.

But the fried perch sandwich was yummeh in my tummeh!

Once everyone arrived we went out for dinner.

And apparently had mussels.

Later on, back at the house, we opened presents and someone had a pants-off dance-off, Christmas style. I've decided this is going to be next year's card, captioned "Merry Christmas, assholes!"


These two are always in charge of making the obligatory stupid gag jokes using household items and they do excellent work.

The paper towel-holder phone is ringing!


Our gracious host had stocked the house well - the ham and the booze were plentiful, and much appreciated when I woke up at what felt like 3 am but was probably 1:30 and went to the bathroom and somehow ended up scavenging in the kitchen with the other vultures.

Drunkenness and lack of clocks aside, there really was a time warp in that house. The setting was idyllic, the company was side-splitting, and time melted away even if the ice and snow didn't.

The guys started breakfast as soon as we got up Saturday morning - WHY were we up that early? WHY? - and the rest of the day was spent sipping mimosas and bloody marys and homemade hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps and grazing on the last bits of the 9-pound ham we had started eating a mere 12 hours earlier. We lounged and played Christmas music, told stories and raunchy jokes, picked on and laughed at each other, and played games like Yahtzee! and "Jumbling Towers", a generic Big Lots version of Jenga that came with the house.


Zellmann and Johnny B even started a game of table-top football using the wine corks scattered around the house from the night before. At some point they must have decided to incorporate the biscuit basket into the game and needed to empty it because I found the left-over biscuits in my purse when I went to leave. It could also have been Jeannie, but she doesn't generally put buttery things in it.

I told Scope earlier that I don't have the right words to express how comfortable and funny and generally awesome these people and these visits are but I've watched this video a couple times and I think the warmth and general awesomeness of the weekend comes across nicely in it.



The rest of my pictures from Chicagoland Christmas 2008 are here.

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1/31/2008

Laissez les bon temps roulez!

Posted by Gwen | Labels: ,

Last Saturday night LM and Katy and I crossed over the Mighty Mississipp' into Alton for the Riverbend Krewe of Mardi Krawlers' first annual Mardi Gras Masked Ball. We drank too much and stayed out way too late, but we didn't smoke enough because Illinois recently went smoke-free. We'll do better this weekend, I promise.


The event was held in the Ballroom of Spirits Lounge which is housed in a former (and haunted!) Masonic Temple. It's a gorgeous building and the new owners have done beautiful things inside. I was apparently crushing on Beth that night because I took 5,000 pictures of her. (I'm going to tell everyone it was because her costume rocked the house. You can't miss it in the pictures.) Anyway, she assisted with the design and palette of the Temple. She's got mad design skillz, but she shouts in her emails.

Oh, I also went Hairstyle Hunting again. Be sure to watch for the mohawk in the pictures. Rumor has it that he's a hairdresser.

This weekend's Mardi Gras festivities include the Grand Parade on Saturday. I somehow landed face first into enough spots on the Flesh Eater's float that I and my friends Johnny B and Laura (driving down from Chicago for the event) are on a float! I've done Mardi Gras almost every year since I moved to St. Louis in 1994 and this will be the first time I've been on a float. That is our actual float pictured to the left. I'm pretty stoked because it has a bathroom. There will be many photos to follow, it's just a matter of when the hangover ebbs to a point that I can sit up straight.

In the meantime, enjoy these from the Krewe Ball. Don't forget you have to click on the image once to activate the plug-in and then click on the thumbnails.

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2/17/2009

Taste of Soulard: The Lowlights

Posted by Gwen | Labels: ,

1. Ditching Scope.

As you may or may not have read over at his place we lost Scope for about an hour at the end of the day on Saturday.  It was entirely unintentional.  I swear.  Our group was made up of several smaller groups and numbered 20 or more.  It was difficult keeping track of everyone as the smaller groups kept taking off in different directions to other bars.  Mid-afternoon a decision was made to move again and the groups, for once, were all in the same bar and ready to leave at the same time so evacuation happened fast.  So fast, in fact, that when Scope came out of the porta john the only people in the crowd that he knew had simply disappeared.  Gone.  Vanished.

When we got to the next bar I started asking where he was.  Everyone had scattered to the four corners of the bar so it was easy to believe that everyone had seen him someplace else.  We were finally forming a real search party when we got the call from Laughlin's 15 year old son telling us that Scope had called him for help.

Hey guys! I found Scope! He's on this phone!

As Johnny B commented on Sunday, "We didn't ditch him.  We were thinking about him.  We just forgot to continue thinking about him."

2. Learning how to make Nicolay's famous Homecoming Bloody Mary's.  This is a skill I should put on my resume and will be a regular feature of my Sunday morning ritual from here to eternity.

3. Scratch 'N Sprinkle:  I don't remember what this is but I know it has something to do with scratching your crotch and sprinkling the imaginary dandruff or fumunda or whatever onto someone's food.  H?  Clarification?

Whatever it is, this is apparently what Scratch 'N Sprinkle looks like.

3. Jeannie's new motto:  If you can't say something nice, be vague.

4. The only acceptable thing to have in a stroller at Mardi Gras is a keg.  Otherwise you might forget the stroller.

5. Sunday morning breakfast:  Steve whipped up omelettes and hash browns and biscuits . . . he even made a Slinger for Biloz though he was skeptical of the ingredients:

We were all skeptical about the future of scary bathroom (which I cleaned, by myself and without gloves*, so there) after he ate it.

6. This sign.

BTW, the left-handed bird is for those of you who noticed I always use my right if flying solo.  I need to practice my sneer - it's not as angry as it used to be.

7. Seeing LARPers in Carondelet Park on Sunday.  No lie.  There was a group of about 20 guys dressed in wacky renaissance and alien costumes doing battle with Nerf swords.  I was mostly embarrassed that I knew who they were and what they were doing.

*  Alright, alright.  I didn't have gloves but I did cover my hands with a clean cat pan liner.

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1/21/2009

Confessions

Posted by Gwen | Labels: , ,

Alright, I've been called out.  My friend John, who bore witness to and participated in Saturday's overindulgence, left this comment on my Facebook page today: As much as I would like a slap on the ass, I'm a little disappointed in you! No commentary on your world-class bender on your blog?? The public deserves to know. :)

I take pride in operating transparently here.  I would love to tell you all about it.  But the funny thing about a World Class Bender is that you are supposed to forget parts - if not all - of what you did and what happened.  If we didn't forget, people would never go on them.  Duh.

That said, he's right, I should tell you what I do remember:

11:30 AM:  I arrive at Curtain Skirt and order a Bloody Mary.  I eat one small cracker with some cheese.

12:15 - 12:30 PM:  I order my first highball of the day.

2:30 PM:  John, who came to town to visit a very lovely girl, arrives at Curtain Skirt with said girl.  Let's call her Becky because that's her name.  Introductions are made and we all have one more drink "for the ditch."  (It's a joke; we did not drive drunk.)

3 PM:  The Curtain Skirt gals leave to go home, change into sweats, eat pizza and watch movies.  John and Becky and I go to another bar/restaurant.  I was at a crossroads here but didn't think twice about turning my back on You'll Feel So Much Better Tomorrow Lane and skipping down the road to Twisted Town.  Well, I skipped until I fell down anyway, but that came much later.  I think.

Thereafter:  Ask John and Becky.  I know what we did but specifics are fuzzy.  When I called John on Sunday afternoon to see if I needed to apologize he told me that I did actually order food at the restaurant but didn't eat it because I was too busy chatting up the person at the table next to us.  I've deduced that person gave me this which I found in my purse on Sunday:

8:35 PM:  Drunk dialed Johnny B.   A vague recollection of this was confirmed by checking the dialed calls on my phone.  I have to say:  just one drunk dial?  And to him?  At 8:30?  Pfffft!  Whatevs.  Not offensive.  Moving on.

Sometime after that:  I went to bed.  John and Becky were still here waiting for the cab to pick them up to take them back to her house but I was again at a crossroads:  lay down on the floor or excuse myself and go upstairs.  I chose wisely this time.  I remember turning out all the lights as they sat there but John told me later that I said it was "to aid with their making out."  So considerate, I am.

As with any big day/night out like that, I misplaced a few things - my sunglasses and dignity - but I also gained a few things - a scrape/bruise combo on my left elbow, a rocks glass, my name in calligraphy on a napkin, and this story for my blog.  Totally worth it.

Special thanks go out to John and Becky for fueling and surviving WCB 2009, to Mel-O for teaching me what a banana bag is so I could obsess about needing one, to Peabody for bringing me soup and a biscuit on Sunday because I couldn't keep anything down, and to Leslie for feeding me a cheeseburger and taking me to get my car on Monday.  You're an excellent WCB pit crew.

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2/01/2008

Snowed in!

Posted by Gwen | Labels: ,

Thank God I had taken today off! This is what my back yard looks like from the back door. Inside the back door, that is; I'm not going out there!


I'm certain this is the most snow we've had in a very long time because I've lived in this house for three years and have never purchased a snow shovel. I've never needed one. My next-door neighbor was kind enough to scoop the front for me.

So here I am at home, busily preparing the house for guests. My friends Johnny and Laura B are driving down from Chicago tonight to partake in the Mardi Gras festivities tomorrow. So far today I have ironed and hung the new curtains in the guest room, stripped both beds, done a ton of "laundry" bedding, roasted garlic for snacks later, made a pot of chicken orzo soup (great for a hung-over tummy), ironed and hung the newly-washed shower curtain, brought the coffee pot and other sundry Mardi Gras necessities (BIG CUPS!) from the basement and washed them, made a pitcher of iced tea (also great for a hang over), washed the ceiling fan in the kitchen (it was GROSS!) and put fresh flowers in the guest room.

Left to do? Finish the bedding laundry and make the beds, wash the ceiling fans in the bedrooms, vacuum (rugs and couches), and touch up the bathroom. As you can see, I fully utilize the cleaning opportunity that house guests present. From the condition of my nooks and crannies, I'm guessing that last year's Mardi Gras was the last time I did some of these things. I'm just paranoid that my two cats will trigger some heinous anaphalactic episode in a guest (the horror!) so I clean like a maniac.

I have high hopes for tomorrow despite the wint'ry mess that's out there. We'll get up early and have bloodies and mimosas with breakfast, a cinnamon loaf (purchased, I'm not that ambitious). I hope to make it to the parade staging area by 9:30 which is where the big-fat-hairy Mardi Pardi starts. After the parade we'll all hang out in the staging area with the other floaters and then cap the day at Broadway Oyster Bar where Dash Rip Rock is playing at 6. Dash is a band out of Louisiana that fuses southern rock with punk. I know! It doesn't get much better than that, does it? My favorite song of their's is about taking acid and going to the zoo; it's called Monkeys Coming Out of Your Ass. "Monkeys! Fucking monkeys!" Click here to hear it for yourself. Put your drink down or you'll spill when you start to rock out.

If I have time later today, I'll come back and tell some stories of Mardi Gras Past. I'm giggling already thinking about the stupid shit we've pulled over the years.

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