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!
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.
