March 20, 2005
It was Saturday, then Saturday night ...
and then it was really early Sunday morning.
Well blogger bash, Day Two: An Evening at Billy Bob's. With my co-blogger, Moona, in tow, I arrived at Billy Bob's at 8:00 p.m., which was the time I had believed we were all to meet. We searched the assembled throng of patrons on hand for an-hour-and-a-half before we finally located the others. They had only just arrived. I didn't ask why they were late. I didn't really care. I was about a-sheet-and-a-half in the wind already, heading for a new world record for asinine drunkenness. I might have attained the mark, but I don't recall much after the eruptions began. I'd advise you not to concern yourself with the details surrounding those episodes as it was definitely not a pretty sight.
I, myself, was actually prepared for all that occurred, including the violent physical effects of massive alcoholic carbonated beverage ingestion. On the trip up, I had advised Moona that I was planning on drinking a lot of beer and had anointed her as designated driver. She graciously accepted. As none of ya'll really know me, you are likely unaware that I rarely give up that position. It is usually I who lingers on the sidelines of the party drinking Dr. Pepper, straight-up with ice. I long ago decided there always had to be one responsible person in attendance. I could never see why that person should not be me. I have never quite understood why I feel that way, but that is just the sort of guy I am. However, this night, I wanted to join in on the merry-making of the inebriated variety.
Chris Cagle was performing. I didn't and still don't know much about the 
I was primarily paying attention to the crowd, especially the lovely young lasses. Amongst the field of pert breasts and rounded derrieres, I caught a brief glimpse at a bare naked navel*** here and there. Despite my inebriation, I suddenly began to feel really old. When I'd flash a smile at some pretty little coquette, the look I'd see on her face served as a constant reminder. I could actually read their thoughts.**** Get lost Grandpa!
I guess I am old. I'll be 50 soon. I'll be eligible to join AARP. I guess I'll have to turn socialist and vote for Hillary. Being old does have its advantages, though. Not, I'm not referring to the discounts you get on meals and such. I'm talking about something much more important.
It seems that, at my advanced age, most of my brain cells have already been killed off. As such, hangovers never seem to be as bad as you expected them to be.
My navel was in attendance, as well. Understanding the oversight, the throng agreed it could come along for the festivities. It didn't drink, either. No beer, soda, or even a drop of water. That a pretty sober navel I have, wouldn't you say? Remarkable! Well, as Snagglepuss was fond of saying ... Exit, stage left.***** End of report.
*See, I really didn't pay any attention. I learned from looking at the posters on the wall that Cooder Graw is the name of a band, so I am not going to make any assumptions about Chris Cagle.
**Although I have some admitted memory lapses with regard to parts of last evening, I can literally admit I was nowhere close to being drunker than ever before. I could tell you stories, but they'd be boring like the rest of this drivel I create.
***I personally think that a navel with attached adornments is less attractive than in its purely natural state.******
****I guess having Brink-o-Link and RJ floating around inside my head has given me a bit of telepathic power.
*****He might have actually said Exit, stage right. I cannot fully recall. I'd ask Boo Boo, but he went off in search of a pic-a-nik basket.
******I also have a personal opinion that there are a lot of navels out there in the world that should never be seen, in public or otherwise. If you've ever been to a NASCAR event, you might be a redneck know what I'm talking about.*******
*******Participle purposefully left dangling.
Posted by Tiger at March 20, 2005 11:32 AM | TrackBack