Wednesday, March 19, 2014

St. Patrick's Day Poop Pact and always keep lipstick handy

So even though I have this new job, I'm still sometimes fazed by it. I mean... come on. Who am I kidding? The last event I went to I showed up in jeans and ended up staying for supper with everyone else wearing cocktail gowns. And after last week's column ran I got my very first comment on my articles ever!

It said the column was really falling downhill and for the staff to please look into it. To which I reply:

Well. DUH. Has no one read my blog before? Please, human creatures - at least one of you finally sees me for who I am. I LIKE TO WRITE ABOUT FUN STUFF THAT IS SILLY AND MAKES ME LAUGH.

In other news, I went to St. Patrick's Day in Savannah, GA. I have heard about St. Pat's Day in Savannah, and have read about it, and really wanted to go see it all myself firsthand. So, the Roomstress and I rented a car (it was one seriously bitchin' Corolla {bitchin' Corolla! bitchin' Corolla! Points to whoever gets that}) and took off last weekend to look into the frivolity.

Wait... did I say "took off?" What I mean by "took off" is really "go to Target in your hometown in your rented car and fuck off for an hour. Buy a pair of new rain boots, a St. Patrick's Day fascinator for your hair, and a sash that says 'Kiss Me I'm Irish." Buy one for your host too - WERE YOU RAISED IN A BARN? (PS, damn you $1 spot at Target). When you're done with that, go to Kohl's and fuck around for a half hour. Never mind it's cold and rainy out (hence the rainboots), you go right ahead and buy those flip flops. When that ends, go to WalMart. Buy yet another Wonder Woman nightie (shut up, judgers) oh - and a raincoat. IT IS RAINY. After that, eat some cheeseburgers at McDonalds in the WalMart in your hometown. THEN, and only then, get that fine self of yours in the car and literally take off to Savannah."

DONE. Let this be a lesson to all of you - KEEP CUTE RAINBOOTS AND RAINCOATS ON HAND AT ALL TIMES.

erin go bragh! or as i promised i'd never say to my friend erin and since she's not here i'll go ahead and say to you - erin go bragh-less! HAHAHAHA. thanks for the fun weekend paulie!
Actual conversation between the Roomstress and me in the car on the way down:

{MAMA REDACTED. See Mama? I do listen!}

Me: You never knew anyone who pooped their pants?

Roomstress: I have to say it doesn't often come up in conversation.

Me: Well.... have you ever pooped your pants?

Roomstress: NO! Have you?

Me: No, but now that we are talking and laughing about this, I'm willing to bet that tomorrow at the St. Patrick's Day parade that one of us is going to poop their pants.

Roomstress: Oh my god, you're right. Karma is a bitch. One of us is soooo pooping their pants.

Me: Oh my gosh, let's make an agreement right now: if one of us poops our pants tomorrow then the other one has to poop their pants immediately in solidarity.

Roomstress: YES. You are right. It will be our poop pact.

Having never been to Savannah's St. Patrick's Day parade, I had no idea what to expect. Here's a couple snaps of sights and sounds - we sat at a bend of the parade, so most of the pics I have are of people's backsides. Sorry.

way to steal my signature hat, horses.

the state coroner made an appearance.

i had no idea ronald mcdonald was a UGA fan.

these a-holes kept shooting off their muzzle loaders and each time they fired it scared the hell out of me.

i tried to take a picture of them firing but i jumped again and missed the shot. literally.

Once the parade started, these young girls with bright red lipstick got in front of the parade barriers, and after a few minutes they ran up to a group of men marching and gave one of the men a smooch on the cheek, leaving a lipstick print. Aw, I thought, they were kissing their daddies. After a few minutes, a couple more girls joined them outside the barriers, and when the next group of men marching came by, they all went in for a smoocharoo. After this happened about a half dozen times, I asked our host, Paul, what was going on - he told me the young women would kiss the men in uniform - soldiers, firemen, policemen, etc.

Of all the times to be without a lipstick. If roles were reversed, this would be the ultimate in sexual harassment, but no one seemed to be complaining so who am I to start. It literally was a lot like a face attack though.

pre-kissing; waiting on their next victims....

AND THEY'RE OFF

At one point the Roomstress noted to one of them that she better get ready because some firemen were approaching. Her response was, "OH, YEEAAAAHHHH." Those kissing fools were my favorite part of the whole parade. We had a great, albeit soggy, time.

We dawdled too long the last night we were there to go out to eat, so the Roomstress and I ran out and made a impromptu crab boil for the three of us. While at the Savannah Kroger, I took advantage of some green beer:

refreshing

And bought items for the crab boil. Actual conversation between me and the Kroger produce stock boy:

Me: Excuse me, but where is the corn?

Produce Stock Boy, pointing: Oh it's right there.

Me: Oh! Right in front of me. Thank you!

PSB: It's full of GMOs though. You know, genetically modified?

Me: Oh, that's ok, I don't mind.

PSB: Seriously, you should read about it some. It's really bad for you.

Me: Um.... ok, thank you.

PSB: That corn will kill you. (walks into the store room)

Me: (stands dumbfounded with killer corn in my hand)

Roomstress, approaching: Hey, get what you need?

Me: Yes. How many ears of killer corn should we get, two or three?

Brother really needs to work on his salesmanship.

floor dining! delicious crab, artichokes, potatoes and killer corn.

The next morning, after a too-short stay, the Roomstress and I loaded up our bitchin' Corolla and headed back home. Thank you for the wonderful visit, Paulie! Lastly, I leave you with some pics of things I saw on the ride back home.

um. what's going on here? i'm pretty sure something's wrong with this. are these a mistake?

followed by an indian killing a cow with a tomohawk and another indian that's part person, part stone. i don't get it.

The Roomstress and I had just switched over driving when I had to beg her suddenly for an ill-timed bathroom stop. We frantically stopped in Canton, NC to find a filling station because we had discussed earlier in the day the fact that even though no one had to enact the poop pact at the parade, we should still enforce the poop pact - with the provision that perhaps two poopie pants might hinder the possibility of assistance for the original pooper so the "immediately in solidarity" was revised to "in solidarity after consideration on whether or not two sets of poopie pants would be a help or hindrance to the current situation." In any event, the point was that both of us had a vested interest in getting me to a bathroom.

I waited patiently in line behind two children at the one-holer, unisex bathroom at the Exxon station in Canton when I saw this. And ice water filled my veins.

i begged the roomstress to go immediately out of line and buy a bottle of water for me before the cashier bounced me for not being a paying customer.  btw, in case you need more of a mental image, pee for free was the least of my worries.

In any event, fun time in Savannah with friends, and a great St. Patrick's Day. Over and out!

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