What a fun time the forth of July is. Parades, BBQ’s, beers, ice cream, and fireworks. Love the fireworks (and the beer of course). Crowds of people gathering and the many different locations to let off and watch fireworks. Amazing how they get the different colors and shapes to the explosions that are ignited at the beginning of the fuse in each firework we light.
The symbolism of these fireworks are of the rockets and bombs that burst in the air used to fight for our freedom here in the U.S. That’s not to say that is where they are originated from, but it symbolizes defending our country. Very patriotic for a day we celebrate our independence on.
That brings me to my point. The day that we celebrate our independence on.
Now, I’m just as patriotic as the next guy. I’ve hit the parades, ate the hot dogs and burgers, drank the beers, (love the beers), ate the ice cream and done the fireworks with the kids until midnight. Good times. But getting up to go to work the next day is a bitch! Why the hell are we up going full speed 8 hours before we are supposed to be to work? That really sucks! We should be up ALL night celebrating! Letting off fireworks! Getting drunk! Playing card games! Cooking up Brats! Not trying to get to bed so we aren’t dragging ass the next day at work.
Of course this only applies to the forth landing on a week day, Sun-Thur. as apposed to the weekend, Fri-Sat. Because I work blue collar white man hours, Mon-Fri. (see disclaimer).
We have other holidays that we celebrate the night before, so why not the forth? New years day is celebrated right at midnight. Christmas is celebrated in the early morning hours. Not to mention Santa Clauses visit the night before. So why not have the celebration of our independence be celebrated on the very beginning minute on the forth of July? That’s right…12:00 am, July forth!
This can’t be that big of a deal can it? I mean, we are still celebrating on the forth. Just doing it at a different time of the day. This way, we can work all day, get home with the family, load them up in the wagon, and pick that nice spot in the park to watch the fireworks at 10pm, ON THE 3RD, until 10:30ish or so, then go be home and ready to do your own firework show at midnight! Stay up all night with the kids/adults and party your brains out until the wee hours of the morning. Spend all day the 4th recovering, and be ready to hit the keyboard first thing on the 5th.
Not too much to ask is it?
Lets all band together. Spread the word, and get this in the works for next year! (even though it’s on Friday in 2008, we can still do it on the 3rd, Right?)
Thanks for your support!
-L
Showing posts with label Beer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beer. Show all posts
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
I hear the tequila inside me say....
My 30th B-day party was quite the bash…
The day started out on the golf course where 8 of us gathered together for a morning round of cigars, beer and golf. 9am, out on the 3rd hole I shank 3 balls in the river. Not good. 5th hole, lost 2 more out of bounds. 6th hole, lost another out of bounds. 9th hole – a 400+ yrd straight shot and I kill it! Best hit of the day. Straight down the fairway, less than 100 yrds from the green with a clean shot ahead. My second shot, I kill it! Fantastic shot…30+ yds past the green. Shit! Didn’t get any better on the green either.
The best thing about that round of golf was hanging out with the guys, smoking the stogies. We all gathered at Todd's house (yes, his name has been changed to protect the innocent), later that night for a beer tasting contest. The fee to get into the party was a 6 pack of unique beer. We must have had at least 20 different types of beer there. Not to mention all the liquor for the non beer drinkers. (aka 'White Bread')
The BBQ lemon pepper chicken and steaks Todd and his wife made were to die for.
As the night moved on, we were all getting our lips on the different kinds of beer we had to prepare for the test. We had a lot of studying to do before the final exam just hours away. We all continued to kick the beers back and smoking on stogies all night.
Then – the testing began. My turn came up, and I knew I had this in the bag. I grab the first cup. Knock it back, and swish it around. Then the second…third, forth, I knew what all six of them were. That was a lot easier than I thought. I grab my cigar and my beer and stroll back out to the back yard as the next contestant strolled in. I was counting on winning the main prize. (whatever it was.)
Finally, after what seemed to be hours of deliberation, the results of the test were released. The little 22 yr old girl that don’t drink very much and don’t smoke cigars had all 6 right!
There's going to be a tie between me and her! I just knew it.
Now, I don’t remember if anyone else got all 6 right. I just remember I didn’t. I got a whopping zero! None if them! I was shocked. I wanted a recount. Maybe they screwed up my ballot. I didn’t leave any hanging chads. How could this be!?
Oh-well, where’s the leftover beer, I’ll drink it!
It was starting to get pretty late. The party was still in full swing. I go down to the bar and White-Bread offers up a shot of tequila. He and my wife (now ex-wife ladies) strong armed me into having one. I fought vigorously for several seconds, then the pressure got to me. I sent the rest of my beer down and grabed the shot. We all kick em back and mine went down very fast. I don’t really like tequila so I don’t drink it. Ever. And the events that came about shortly after reminded me as to why I don’t like it.
Just as fast as the shot went down, I felt it coming back up. I set the shot glass down and started scrolling through my mental notes as to where the bathroom was. ‘Just to the left in the hall’ I thought. As I turn to run, I realize there is a sink in the kitchenette that is much, much closer. However, this sick is behind to ladies who are engaged in conversation and oblivious to the fight that is going on inside me. I have to make a choice. The bathroom – nearly 20 feet away, or split the ladies and hit the sink a mere 5 feet away.
I hear the tequila inside me say, ‘The sink!’. Off I go to the sink. As I head in that direction (again, a mere 5 feet away mind you) I speak very politely to the ladies, ‘excuse me please.’ They both take a step back as I approach and it was a good thing they did, because the tequila thought that me saying 'excuse me' was the secret code for ‘ok – it’s clear! You can come out now!’ I had barely got to the ladies, still at least 3 feet from the sink when the tequila/beer/cake/chicken all started its journey out of me, thru the air, past the ladies and into the sink. I see the two ladies do what Keanu Reeves did in the Matrix. I was very impressed. I don't think they were.
I was told that one of them was about to put a chip in her mouth just as I had done this. After I parted them, she politely set the chip back down in the bowl and walked away. Literally with not facial expression at all. (maybe this is funny only to those of us that were there....)
About 2 minutes later, after the laughter somewhat started to settle, someone herded me into the bathroom and sat me in front of the toilet, where I continued my praying. It felt like days. Weeks, months. Holy crap I felt like shit.
After I picked up my stomach and some of my lungs off the rim of the porcelain God, I realized I had a mess to clean up in the sink. I wobble my way out there, and Todd had his bio hazard suit on and my mess nearly cleaned up. I said ‘sorry buddy, I can do that’ and he looked at me with the eyes of death and said, ‘I got it man, don’t worry about it’. But his eyes…they told a different story. One like..’you are never coming over to my house again you drunk bastard!’ I’m sure he will tell you different, but I felt so bad.
After that, I don’t remember a damn thing. I have no recollection of getting home or the entire next day. I all remember is everyone saying, ‘It’s not a party until Larmus pukes!’
All in all, I think it was a great party and I would like to thank those that cleaned up after me when I obviously couldn't. And I apologize for all that.
Party on!
The day started out on the golf course where 8 of us gathered together for a morning round of cigars, beer and golf. 9am, out on the 3rd hole I shank 3 balls in the river. Not good. 5th hole, lost 2 more out of bounds. 6th hole, lost another out of bounds. 9th hole – a 400+ yrd straight shot and I kill it! Best hit of the day. Straight down the fairway, less than 100 yrds from the green with a clean shot ahead. My second shot, I kill it! Fantastic shot…30+ yds past the green. Shit! Didn’t get any better on the green either.
The best thing about that round of golf was hanging out with the guys, smoking the stogies. We all gathered at Todd's house (yes, his name has been changed to protect the innocent), later that night for a beer tasting contest. The fee to get into the party was a 6 pack of unique beer. We must have had at least 20 different types of beer there. Not to mention all the liquor for the non beer drinkers. (aka 'White Bread')
The BBQ lemon pepper chicken and steaks Todd and his wife made were to die for.
As the night moved on, we were all getting our lips on the different kinds of beer we had to prepare for the test. We had a lot of studying to do before the final exam just hours away. We all continued to kick the beers back and smoking on stogies all night.
Then – the testing began. My turn came up, and I knew I had this in the bag. I grab the first cup. Knock it back, and swish it around. Then the second…third, forth, I knew what all six of them were. That was a lot easier than I thought. I grab my cigar and my beer and stroll back out to the back yard as the next contestant strolled in. I was counting on winning the main prize. (whatever it was.)
Finally, after what seemed to be hours of deliberation, the results of the test were released. The little 22 yr old girl that don’t drink very much and don’t smoke cigars had all 6 right!
There's going to be a tie between me and her! I just knew it.
Now, I don’t remember if anyone else got all 6 right. I just remember I didn’t. I got a whopping zero! None if them! I was shocked. I wanted a recount. Maybe they screwed up my ballot. I didn’t leave any hanging chads. How could this be!?
Oh-well, where’s the leftover beer, I’ll drink it!
It was starting to get pretty late. The party was still in full swing. I go down to the bar and White-Bread offers up a shot of tequila. He and my wife (now ex-wife ladies) strong armed me into having one. I fought vigorously for several seconds, then the pressure got to me. I sent the rest of my beer down and grabed the shot. We all kick em back and mine went down very fast. I don’t really like tequila so I don’t drink it. Ever. And the events that came about shortly after reminded me as to why I don’t like it.
Just as fast as the shot went down, I felt it coming back up. I set the shot glass down and started scrolling through my mental notes as to where the bathroom was. ‘Just to the left in the hall’ I thought. As I turn to run, I realize there is a sink in the kitchenette that is much, much closer. However, this sick is behind to ladies who are engaged in conversation and oblivious to the fight that is going on inside me. I have to make a choice. The bathroom – nearly 20 feet away, or split the ladies and hit the sink a mere 5 feet away.
I hear the tequila inside me say, ‘The sink!’. Off I go to the sink. As I head in that direction (again, a mere 5 feet away mind you) I speak very politely to the ladies, ‘excuse me please.’ They both take a step back as I approach and it was a good thing they did, because the tequila thought that me saying 'excuse me' was the secret code for ‘ok – it’s clear! You can come out now!’ I had barely got to the ladies, still at least 3 feet from the sink when the tequila/beer/cake/chicken all started its journey out of me, thru the air, past the ladies and into the sink. I see the two ladies do what Keanu Reeves did in the Matrix. I was very impressed. I don't think they were.
I was told that one of them was about to put a chip in her mouth just as I had done this. After I parted them, she politely set the chip back down in the bowl and walked away. Literally with not facial expression at all. (maybe this is funny only to those of us that were there....)
About 2 minutes later, after the laughter somewhat started to settle, someone herded me into the bathroom and sat me in front of the toilet, where I continued my praying. It felt like days. Weeks, months. Holy crap I felt like shit.
After I picked up my stomach and some of my lungs off the rim of the porcelain God, I realized I had a mess to clean up in the sink. I wobble my way out there, and Todd had his bio hazard suit on and my mess nearly cleaned up. I said ‘sorry buddy, I can do that’ and he looked at me with the eyes of death and said, ‘I got it man, don’t worry about it’. But his eyes…they told a different story. One like..’you are never coming over to my house again you drunk bastard!’ I’m sure he will tell you different, but I felt so bad.
After that, I don’t remember a damn thing. I have no recollection of getting home or the entire next day. I all remember is everyone saying, ‘It’s not a party until Larmus pukes!’
All in all, I think it was a great party and I would like to thank those that cleaned up after me when I obviously couldn't. And I apologize for all that.
Party on!
Monday, April 9, 2007
'It's not a party unless ....'
Parties are fun. Especially when the people you are with don't judge you or anyone else that is there. Just a bunch of cool friends hanging out, and having fun. No drama....sigh....good times...
Speaking of good times...Here's one:
Some friends of mine called a party to their house one winter day. It must have been new years or something. I Don't really remember.
I get there, and the party was already happinin. Shots were flying, beers were being downed, board games with alcohol were being played, music going...typical fun party. I had a few jello-shots to chase my beers down and a few shots of this, and a few of that. Then, the party moved downstairs and into the garage.
The house is a split-entry house, so you go down 4 or 5 steps, and your on a landing to the front door, then you go down 4 or 5 more stairs and you are on the bottom floor of the house. Straight across from the stairs is the bathroom. To the right is the TV room, and to the left is the door to the garage.
The garage has a typical 'male' setting. No car, dart board, work bench, yard tools hanging, you know, typical garage. Me, Dalton, (names have been changed to protect the guilty) his date Amber, Jason and his date Heidi are standing around in our own little conversation when Jason leaves to go to the bathroom. Heidi asks if any one needs another beer. 'I do!' I say as I start to down the last half of my someteenth beer. She grabs me a bottle and even twists the top off for me. 'Your awesome! Thanks!' I say. She smiles and says 'Your pretty alright your self...and your welcome!' and with that, I focus back on the conversation that was going on, when not 2 seconds later, the rest of my night began to come to an end...
As I stand there, holding my beer, I see Heidi, out of the corner of my eye, lift her beer as if she is going to drink it. Now, I don't know why, maybe the beer gods were watching, but I suddenly gripped my beer tighter, as if it was going to drop out of my hand, but I am now thankful I did! Next thing I knew, Heidi had 'tapped' my bottle and it started to foam over. (if your not familiar with 'tapping', this is when one idiot hits the top of a bottle with the bottom of their bottle. This causes the beer to foam up and shoot up and out of the bottle. It literally shoots up. 6-8 inches. So it can cause a mess if your not on top of it and start chugging it to prevent the mess it will make.)
My quick thinking saved the garage floor. I wrapped my lips around the top of my bottle and started chugging. Chugging foam that is. When you chug foam, it normally tends to fill every crevis in your stomach, throat, nose, ears, then your eyes and lastly, your mouth. This is exactly what happened. As it had gone through all the above, then into my mouth, I thought I had it all under control. I looked at my bottle and seen it was still foaming. I went to drink more of it, but as I tried to open my mouth, Daltons eyes were getting bigger and he started to move back away from me as he seen bubbles coming out of my nose. Heidi was crying she was laughing so hard, and the foam in my stomach wanted out. Bad. So, it started coming out. I knew there was no turning back. My cheeks instantly filled up and I covered my mouth to prevent anyone in the room from being decorated with what I was about to release. I ran into the house and busted open the bathroom door.
Now, remember a minute ago, before I got this new beer, Jason had left to go to the bathroom. Well, I remembered this as soon as I busted open the door and seen him standing there with his hand just zipping up his pants. All I remember of this is the size of his eyes as I busted in the room and him backing up against the wall like I was a freight train he was avoiding.
I didn't make it to the porcelain god in time for the first wave. In fact, when I flung the door open, it was pretty much on its way out then. It flew out of my mouth, past Jasons face, across the bathroom and on the back wall of the shower and into the tub. By that time, I had my body wrapped around the toilet hanging on like it was an old girlfriend I didn't want to let go. You know how the rest of that goes.
I don't recall much of the rest of that night. I do recall some kind of wrestling match out in the snow in the front yard, but everything else is pretty much gone. This was the first of what was to be several incidents at parties where my insides decided they wanted to join in on the fun too. Thus, the phrase 'It's not a party unless Larmas pukes!' was coined.
So - with that said, I would like to thank those that cleaned up after me when I obviously couldn't. And I apologize for all of that.
Party on!
Speaking of good times...Here's one:
Some friends of mine called a party to their house one winter day. It must have been new years or something. I Don't really remember.
I get there, and the party was already happinin. Shots were flying, beers were being downed, board games with alcohol were being played, music going...typical fun party. I had a few jello-shots to chase my beers down and a few shots of this, and a few of that. Then, the party moved downstairs and into the garage.
The house is a split-entry house, so you go down 4 or 5 steps, and your on a landing to the front door, then you go down 4 or 5 more stairs and you are on the bottom floor of the house. Straight across from the stairs is the bathroom. To the right is the TV room, and to the left is the door to the garage.
The garage has a typical 'male' setting. No car, dart board, work bench, yard tools hanging, you know, typical garage. Me, Dalton, (names have been changed to protect the guilty) his date Amber, Jason and his date Heidi are standing around in our own little conversation when Jason leaves to go to the bathroom. Heidi asks if any one needs another beer. 'I do!' I say as I start to down the last half of my someteenth beer. She grabs me a bottle and even twists the top off for me. 'Your awesome! Thanks!' I say. She smiles and says 'Your pretty alright your self...and your welcome!' and with that, I focus back on the conversation that was going on, when not 2 seconds later, the rest of my night began to come to an end...
As I stand there, holding my beer, I see Heidi, out of the corner of my eye, lift her beer as if she is going to drink it. Now, I don't know why, maybe the beer gods were watching, but I suddenly gripped my beer tighter, as if it was going to drop out of my hand, but I am now thankful I did! Next thing I knew, Heidi had 'tapped' my bottle and it started to foam over. (if your not familiar with 'tapping', this is when one idiot hits the top of a bottle with the bottom of their bottle. This causes the beer to foam up and shoot up and out of the bottle. It literally shoots up. 6-8 inches. So it can cause a mess if your not on top of it and start chugging it to prevent the mess it will make.)
My quick thinking saved the garage floor. I wrapped my lips around the top of my bottle and started chugging. Chugging foam that is. When you chug foam, it normally tends to fill every crevis in your stomach, throat, nose, ears, then your eyes and lastly, your mouth. This is exactly what happened. As it had gone through all the above, then into my mouth, I thought I had it all under control. I looked at my bottle and seen it was still foaming. I went to drink more of it, but as I tried to open my mouth, Daltons eyes were getting bigger and he started to move back away from me as he seen bubbles coming out of my nose. Heidi was crying she was laughing so hard, and the foam in my stomach wanted out. Bad. So, it started coming out. I knew there was no turning back. My cheeks instantly filled up and I covered my mouth to prevent anyone in the room from being decorated with what I was about to release. I ran into the house and busted open the bathroom door.
Now, remember a minute ago, before I got this new beer, Jason had left to go to the bathroom. Well, I remembered this as soon as I busted open the door and seen him standing there with his hand just zipping up his pants. All I remember of this is the size of his eyes as I busted in the room and him backing up against the wall like I was a freight train he was avoiding.
I didn't make it to the porcelain god in time for the first wave. In fact, when I flung the door open, it was pretty much on its way out then. It flew out of my mouth, past Jasons face, across the bathroom and on the back wall of the shower and into the tub. By that time, I had my body wrapped around the toilet hanging on like it was an old girlfriend I didn't want to let go. You know how the rest of that goes.
I don't recall much of the rest of that night. I do recall some kind of wrestling match out in the snow in the front yard, but everything else is pretty much gone. This was the first of what was to be several incidents at parties where my insides decided they wanted to join in on the fun too. Thus, the phrase 'It's not a party unless Larmas pukes!' was coined.
So - with that said, I would like to thank those that cleaned up after me when I obviously couldn't. And I apologize for all of that.
Party on!
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