May the Hand(s) of God Strike Them Down

I went to the auspices of a barbeque last night.

Auspices because it was more of a clever attempt at getting me to play Spades while arguing the finer points of 1) The US oil Oligarchy 2) why everything costs so much money 3) how traveling to other countries to "teach" and "learn" is "fun" and 4) why all the music I listen to essentially choruses into "RAWR" at some point...

I suppose it wasn't surprising that I immediately bonded with the guy wearing the Lamb of God concert T-Shirt. This despite an attempt to play a Killswitch DVD that had been ripped in 2-channel stereo on a Dolby 5:1 digital audio soundsystem that refused to lay out any bass from the resident subwoofer.

Can you say "booooooooooooooooo"?

Things only got worse when I was confronted by apparently-sorority-chick about "why I wasn't eating any dinner" that night - despite a pretty mean BBQ mahi-mahi and random sausage and potatoes and asparagi... I passively mentioned something about how eating food "interefered with my alcohol buzz" and got this sudden blank stare. Yes. About as unexpected as a dog peeing on your foot at a party.

And then things got weird.

Sorority-chick suddenly became very agitated and I caught her lambasting in mid-stream. Something about "I worked out ALL FUCKING WEEK so that I could eat dinner here tonight and not worry" blah blah blah... "How RUDE people are that can just COME IN and drink and be all SKINNY and " blah blah blah.

Anyway, I apparently pissed someone off despite wearing my size Medium Fallen skate T-Shirt and talking in a very baritone voice.

To this moment, I'm still not sure if she was serious or not. She was very cute, in a Strawberry Shortcake kind of way, but I would still not want to be anywhere near her in the same house on a night when the cable went out...

Meanwhile, the gang-of-3 Mortgage Brokers showed up at 1am, throwing ping-pong balls off the kitchen cabinetry while random drunk chicks somersaulted over each other on the back porch and attempted to pique interest in several guys staring at them with a threat to "pee on each other"

Why do I always leave my digital camera at home?

Dammit.

Anyway, ping pongs are flying off random objects while I delve into a discussion of what its like to sell mortgages to the haplessly insane nowdays. Suddenly a Drinking Game (TM) erupts, and there is something about a Little Green Man sitting on your beercan that throws me off and I get up and walk over to the living room to air my brain out for a minute.

In the end, somersault-chick (I think her name was Allison) decides to wrap things up for the night in a non-threatening conversation with Paul about global hunger or something while I sneak out the front door past the smokers sitting on the porch...

Hope you had fun, Amy. You might meet "Berrrt... Berrrrt Berrrrt Berrrrt" again one day.

Sam Adams is some good shit.