Nothing satisfies the soul quite like 38 continuous hours of sin and debauchery. I sit here now, squeaky clean after the lengthy shower that it took to remove every last trace of the thick film that so recently coated my entire body. Only hours ago Sparkler, who is always well prepared, kindly helped me to regain some semblance of hygiene by providing me with the necessary items to suck every bit of oil from my face, (and I think half of Texas at the same time) as well as the tasty paste which changed the fuzzy sweater that coated my teeth into a mere soft velour jacket while simultaneously providing me with a minty-fresh colon. So I thank her for that gesture. Sort of.
My adventure started out innocently enough as I went to Fly’s for a casual backyard cookout. As usual it was raucous fun; filled with food, libations and loud wacky wits. From there I settled into a more ‘presentable incarnation’ of myself to meet Roger, his parents and the tribe for dinner. Surprisingly, very little poop humor infiltrated this introduction.
After dinner it was suggested that a trip to Sin-City (Shreveport) was needed. So Saltina, Sparkler, Large Head and I set about making the plans. Saltina and Large Head had to care for their dogs, so the Spark and I headed to the local lesbian bar to mock and wait for our carriage. We knew it would be safe to leave our cars on 'the strip' due to the overwhelming number of ‘one-night-stand’ vehicles that always lined the sidewalks in this area. While we were there I received several serious hand-written notes from the concerned on-looking lesbians warning me that I was wasting my time with this obviously STRAIGHT female because she was un-convertible to the gay-side. (I didn’t really get any notes, but it IS funnier that way.)
On the way, we did run into a brief encounter with ‘the Fuzz’ who were dispelled by Sparks, flashing her thighs, and the thought of 4 wild, single women ‘loosing their shirts’ in Sin-City, so picking them up on the way home would probably prove to be a more enterprising endeavor than to ticket them on the way. We were let off with a warning, and a knowing smile.
Upon arrival we separated to follow our individual lusts; roulette, 21, slots, the bar, whatever your fancy. As for me I had little fortune at the wheel, much luck at cards, no dice with the dice, and finally settled into the slots, which robbed me blind at first. Then Large Head announced that I should try my luck at “Risqué Business”; the titty-bar themed slot machine whose ultimate jackpot was revealed through an animated cartoon strip tease. It was a $.01 machine (the cheap whores) and so I eagerly took my seat. In no time at all I had raked in the proportional fortune of $60. (Apparently, with my enormous sexual energy and attractiveness, even the machines felt inclined to strip for me, TWICE.)
Finally the group reconvened to partake of a greasy, protein heavy breakfast at 7:30am. We were even fortunate enough to see one man wearing a hat in homage to Large Head and we enjoyed the humor of this moment immensely. So with our intestinal tracts properly lubricated we set off for home, the ‘freakishly-awake-and-hyper-in-the-face-of-sleep-deprivation-yours-truly’ at the wheel. With most of the passengers asleep most of the way the trip was uneventful except for the occasional outbreak of the newly established ClubElement.
Upon arrival at “Palais plus Sauvage” I made arrangements with Pandora to attend ‘Gay Day at the State Fair’. But by the time we finally got together we decided that it was too late to truly enjoy the event and instead shared each other’s company and insights. Around 4pm we decided that nourishment was needed but our favorite local sushi bar was most likely closed. Pandora immediately picked up the phone, called them, discovered that yes indeed they were closed but were willing to open early for us. (How cool is that? Few things in life are better than having good 'sushi restaurant mojo'.) So, she and I sat in the empty restaurant, with the amazingly attentive owner pampering us as we continued to share stories.
Once I finally settled into my own home for the evening I discovered that except for the sushi, my entire weekend of sin and debauchery cost me a grand total of $11.
That is truly the best $11 that I have ever spent.
And as I reflect upon my recent events, my dry, parched facial skin can still only find relief by sucking every bit of moisture from its neighboring lips, which now have to be constantly slathered with a thick balm, (The astringent pad you gave me this morning IS the BOMB Sparkler. My face may never be oily again! I must have the product name.) I realize that my friends, world and experiences continue to provide me with endless entertainment and amazement.
I wish I could say I was tired, but the reality is I will now make myself try to rest so that my head doesn’t hit my desk with a loud ‘THUD’ tomorrow, thereby waking my sleeping co-workers. [snicker] At the very least I try to be considerate of other’s needs.
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So it's safe to say that the less you shower, the better your weekend goes?
words of wisdom:
"...the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. - F. D. Roosevelt
