Concert, Graduation, and 30th B-day Party

Unlike most weekends, this past weekend I actually had plans. I like going into weekends not having anything lined up so I can do whatever the hell I please but this was not the case. The three events I was expected to attend were:

FA’s wife’s brother’s concert

Sister’s high school graduation

Friend’s 30th surprise birthday party

The concert was on Friday and supposedly started at 9:00. I got home from the parent’s house and went directly to the bar. I figured I could get a couple pitchers of cheap beer in me before the concert was supposed to start. The Renter swung by a little before 9:00 and we were off to downtown.

At 9:15 the concert hall was empty except for four or five people. I got a text message from the FA stating that he was upstairs eating. The FA has his ups and downs and after looking around for a while I eventually found him downstairs eating with his wife, wife’s friend, and two of the FA’s friends (yeah, I was surprised too, FA actually has friends). We sat and chilled for a bit as the concert was now supposed to start at 10:00. I had two or three 20 oz beers and was starting to get in my comfort zone. This was not a good thing. When I get into my comfort zone, that’s exactly what it is, my comfort zone. Being in my comfort zone usually takes other people out of their comfort zone. So wouldn’t you know it, I had to bring up one of the friend’s old boyfriends. I assure you I had nothing but good intentions. I knew that they had a hard time breaking up, but I just wanted to politely ask how she was doing. What I didn’t take into account was that they had a REALLY hard time breaking up and that this happened over five years ago. My concerns were met with scowls and mean looks. Then, instead of backpedaling, I pushed a little further, still thinking that I was just voicing my concern for her. I finally stopped after getting punched and pinched by the Renter and just shut my yap.

The group made it upstairs to the concert hall where we found out you couldn’t smoke. A little bummed I grabbed a beer and chatted for a bit with whoever would still talk to me. And then, out of the blue, the wife’s friend asked me if I wanted to go back downstairs for a cigarette. Surprised, I said sure and we ended up talking for five minutes at the bar. The conversation was relatively tame (although I can’t remember much of it) until I stuck my foot in my mouth again and we went back upstairs. Around 11:00 the Renter and I went down for a cigarette.

Renter: Dude, she doesn’t like you that much.

Me: No, not really. I think she said I was more annoying than anything. Am I annoying?

Renter: Sometime you certainly can be, kind of like when you brought up her old boyfriend.

Me: Yeah, well, I guess I can see that. Oh well, she’s never liked me. I think I just like giving her shit.

(The fact that I feel the need to define “giving her shit” on this stupid website is kind of disturbing. “Giving her shit” is just joking or kidding with and has nothing to do with actual feces.)

The Renter and I went back upstairs to say goodbye to everyone. The concert was good, great songs and stage presence, but the acoustics just weren’t the greatest for the vocals. The bass was thumping, the guitars were cranking, and the vocals were right on pitch, just couldn’t quite pick the words out.

Saturday morning I woke up fairly early and mowed the lawn. I sat down on the deck for a break and felt the need to fart. After letting a small one slide I realized that it was missing the main component that makes up a fart: gas. I quickly got up and ran for the bathroom with the Renter about to throw up her lunch when she saw the wet spot on the back of my shorts. I literally had crap spread from cheek to cheek. Totally fucking gross, I know, but I can’t try to be high and mighty telling of my heroic drinking stories without letting you in on the not so high and mighty stories of me crapping my pants. And yes, if you’re keeping a running total, that would be the second time that I crapped my pants in a week.

The sister’s graduation was at 1:30. It was a nice day so they decided to hold it out on the football field. Good idea in my mind if its 85 degrees out and sunny and you’re wearing a tank top and shorts. Horrible idea if you’re dressed in khakis and a collared shirt. Throughout the hour long ceremony I could feel sweat dripping down my chest and legs. Being 6’5” and sitting on bleachers ddidn’t help any either. I felt quite confined with some big fat dude sitting in front of me forcing me to put both legs out in the isle. But after they had three girls stand up and give their speeches (the last one being the class president who talked way too long) they managed to blow through the 200 students in just over 15 minutes. And no, I was not checking out the high school girls because that’s just wrong. Well, I wasn’t until after the ceremony when they unzipped the hot gowns to reveal hooters that belonged on much older women. They didn’t make them like that back when I was in high school. (I later asked a school teacher friend who informed me that the cut-off date for school is – some date I don’t remember – and that some of them could have been 17. But it’s not like I was checking them out hardcore, just a glance here and there so all is good. Right?)

After the graduation I had to go to TBird’s surprise birthday party. I kind of missed out on the surprise as I arrived late, but I guess he had absolutely no idea the party had been planned. They had quite the turnout and even had a pig roasting on a spigot. The old roommate told me earlier in the week that they were wondering how much beer to get. He said that whenever they get together everyone stuffs themselves with the food and they always have tons of beer left. So I found it quite funny at 5:30 to see him sitting in a chair with his hand covering his stomach and this dazed look on his face. I picked up the slack for everyone, chugging beers like there was no tomorrow. I would guess that I was in the cooler every fifteen minutes for the whole time I was there. After a while I started to avoid people I didn’t know that well trying to hide the fact that I was getting pretty fucked up. And then the vodka came out. The old roommate got some Red Bull in hopes of waking up and getting out of his slump. We used 16 ounce cups, filled them halfway with ice, up to the ice with vodka, and the rest with Red Bull. Actually, I’m not sure if that was the process as by this time I wouldn’t trust myself to pour out of the brand new bottle of Absolute, but they were strong even for my tastes. Of course I finished mine first and the Renter made me a vodka lemonade which was even stronger than the first drink. After another lemonade I was pretty much toast. I guess I said goodbye to everyone and stumbled out to the Renter’s car.

I didn’t do a damn thing on Sunday. I was supposed to get up early and usher in church but that didn’t happen. I don’t know but there’s something about getting up earlier on a weekend than you would normally get up on a weekday that I just can’t do. Weekends are made for getting up at noon, at least that’s what I think. So I sat on the couch and watched TV for a good solid twelve hours (while nursing just a bit of a headache). I only left the couch to pee or make food (whole frozen pizza). For some reason I had absolutely no problem farting and “voiced my opinion” as often as possible and eventually had to use air freshener on the couch. Clouds like the ones that followed Pig Pen when he walked in the Snoopy cartoons would rise up from the couch every time I moved. Renter: “And you wonder why you don’t have a girlfriend.” No, I don’t wonder, I pretty much know why already.

And lastly, I wrote about Genarlow Wilson a while ago. He was the high schooler who was given 10 years in prison for receiving oral sex from a 15 year old when he was 17. Now, not saying that I would approve of any of this, but I will express my concern with the way the laws were set up. The Georgia state law required his 10 year sentence while if he would have actually had sex with her it would have been 1 year. Anyway, you can check out the ESPN article here. He’s not out of the clear yet. A judge voided his sentence today but the state prosecutors are appealing it. I don’t know how they can appeal it with all the media coverage the story has received and all the hype Genarlow has on his side, but I guess that’s Georgia for you.