Spent the weekend insulated from even the slightest hint of inhibition or negativity in the warm cocoon of many cold Miller Lites, my wife and family. My brother and sister-in-law came up from Orlando, and we spent 13 hours yesterday with my parents and in-laws, eating, drinking, wrestling, dancing, singing, shooting pool and basically harassing every woman we met, including our wives. I can’t remember feeling this good or having so much fun since I was a freakin’ teenager.
Rocked a killer “Viking” barbecue lunch at 11 a.m. at The Palms in Youngstown (8, -1/2). Highlights included the chicken(!!!); lamb; my dad, uncle, their drinking buddies, my brother and me cracking on each other for every bit of two hours; Mike knocking my beer over; and my stepmom bringing paper napkins and plastic plates, forks and knives in her purse because she’d heard the place was “dirty.”
“Whose wife would venture into the ladies room first?”
My brother, me and our wives headed to meet her dad and brothers in the village from there. VFW first (5-6) — where it was revealed that some people we know may or may not have been posting naked pictures of theirselfs in the interwebs. Good luck ’splainin’ dat one to da kids.
A round for the entire crew cost $7.00 or thereabouts.
“Waldo says that the woman drinking gin is the one to take home, all else being equal.”
Next stop, American Legion (6-7 +1 Jager Bomb) — where it was confirmed that the pitchers in question are indeed, nekked. I beat my brother in pool after spotting him a three-ball head start.
Two words: popcorn fight.
“Dude, I want to sleep here tonight. Jager Bombs (Jagermeister + full can of RedBull) are only $3. Can we move in?”
Village Finale, CP (5, -1/2) — where we invented new terms for bodyparts exposed in photos. Ironically enough, billiards is a sport that requires either skill or sobriety. Having neither, older siblings vs. younger siblings made for one very long contest.
Also there was a delay of sorts when, in a fit of spontaneous public group-sing that can only be described as “Once-More-with Feeling-esque,” the entire bar stopped what they were doing and sang along with Hank Williams, Jr.’s “Family Tradition.” A second, significantly shorter (yet awkwardly similar) delay occurred when an Eminem song came on the jukebox and my two present sisters-in-law made a bit of a Tony-sandwich on the “dance” floor.
“We forgot to take our picture in front of the sign. I guess we’ll have to go back.”
Actually left at about 7 p.m. for dinner at in-laws’ house (0). My brother was so drunk and funny that I actually got a cramp from laughing so hard throughout the meal. After dinner play-wrestled with my brother and three-year-old nephew. My brother had me in a “Camel Clutch” at one point, which I reversed into a Double-Chicken-Wing and forced his submission. The move drew “oooohs” and “aaahhhs” from all spectators, but however impressive, I believe I may have dislocated my shoulder in the process.
“What am I gonna do ’bout my legs, Eddie Murphy???”
Wife designated drove my brother, sister-in-law and me back north from there to the BW3 at Eastwood (6). Ran into a highschool classmate that I haven’t seen since we graduated in 1992. Waited for a beer. Got a beer. Waited again. Borrowed a $10 bill from my wife, flagged the bartender down, introduced myself, gave him the ten and didn’t wait again until 1 a.m., when we left. Tipped another $10 when we left.
My sister-in-law is a video poker savant.
“Dude, you can’t walk out on your bill. You work here.”
Crashed at dad’s sometime shortly after. (30-32, -1 total spilled by Mike and brother-in-law #1 at CP, +1 Jager Bomb)
