Remember the line from the Bare Naked Ladies song 'One Week', “I’m the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral, can’t understand what I mean, well you soon will.” Well, I’m the kind of girl who laughs at a funeral. I know it sounds so dark and cruel, but if you know me, you know I’m not like that. It’s a nervous reaction, just another part of the human condition. Some folks cry, some folks are blank, some folks laugh. I laugh, sometimes cry, but mostly laugh.

Today I had to attend a funeral. It was no one I knew personally. I was there in support of one of my students who had lost her father very suddenly. It was in a rather old funeral parlor. I sat in my chair and it let off a loud creak as all four legs bent in a highly precarious angle. I envisioned myself crashing to the ground right in the middle of a prayer or something. As it were, the chair held out, my laughter did not.

I was doing fine. In fact I thought I might make it through my first funeral laugh free. Yes indeed, laugh free, right up until the moment the preacher started giving a speech about how Jesus was commanded to rise from his grave. He read Psalms 23, talked about how we are all God’s children and how Jesus was God’s only son. Then he gets to the bit about rising from the grave when suddenly he screams out, arms flailing in the air, “When’s the last time you went to a funeral and shouted at the man in the casket, GET UP!”

I’m sure you’ve all experienced the laughter infection. It spreads. First you laugh to yourself. Then you realize you’re laughing and it’s not appropriate, so you begin to laugh harder. Soon you can’t control your heaving. I lost it. I imagined myself running up to the casket of a man I never knew and screaming, GET UP! I grasped my mouth with my hand to try to cover it up. The kid next to me thought I was crying and asked if I was ok. When I turned to him it got worse, then he started laughing when he realized I was laughing. I started the laughter infection. I felt bad, but I couldn’t stop.

Sometimes I just don’t care when I laugh. It’s a perfectly natural reaction. We’ve just drilled it into ourselves over the years that funerals should be all morbid and teary eyed. I know I can't truthfully claim this particular case of hysteria to be a nervous reaction, it really was just because of what that man said. I started to feel guilty, and it was not 10 minutes later I received my punishment for it, or so I’m convinced.

The wife of the man asked for everyone to pass the casket and pay their last respects. I had never even had the opportunity to meet this man, but of course I would say farewell. Then she says to start with the back left row. Oh yah, you know it, that’s ME! I froze like a deer in headlights. You’ve got to be kidding me. Clearly I am the one individual in this room with the most distant tie to this whole scenario and I’m supposed to go first!? So I nudged the kid next to me (yes I know him) and said, “You go first”. The counter, “No way, you go first, I’m not going first”. To which I replied, “Absolutely not, I’m not going first, you go first”. This banter went on for a moment and then we realized the entire congregation was staring, waiting for me to begin. I felt very, very awkward in that moment in time.
Ciao.

Just so you all know…I am making my world famous cone cakes for (e:Theecarey)’s birthday party this Saturday. If you’re not there, well, read the sign.


Then stick around for my delicious treats!



Check it [inlink]ladycroft,65[/inlink] Ciao.

I got my tickets for Henry Rollins in the mail today and opened them up to make sure everything was in order. I noticed the small print on the back and couldn’t stop laughing as I read it. If you don’t know who Henry Rollins is, well, he’s a pretty intense man. www.henryrollins.com This is actually his spoken word tour, ‘25 Years of Bullshit’, not a Rollins Band concert – which is what makes the disclaimer all the more entertaining. Here it goes: WARNING! You are at your own risk with respect to the dangers incidental to this event whether occurring prior to, during or after the event including specifically (but not exclusively) the dangers of being struck by hockey pucks (I’m sorry did you say hockey pucks?), sticks, balls (no comment), or other equipment (oh my!), by spectators or players or by thrown objects (is this still true if I am the object being thrown?). WARNING! Despite enhanced spectator shielding measures (are we all going to be issued a full suit of armor at the door?), pucks, balls and other objects may still fly into the spectator area. Serious injury can occur. Stay alert at all times (but I so wanted to sleep during the show). If struck, immediately contact an usher for assistance (based on this description, if I’m struck by anything, I’ll likely be unconscious). Ciao.

Ok, so mine are all the TAME photos of the night but I'm still in the grips of 35mm. Soon to change, soon to change. I'm buying myself a digital for my birthday, yesssssssssssss! Right, where do I begin? First, I want to thank the PMT crew for letting the amusement bloom in their residence! (e:Paul), (e:Matthew) [inlink]matthew,627[/inlink], (e:Terry) - thank you! Next I would like to thank the Academy....err, wrong speech. I want to thank everyone for coming. It really means a lot to me that you were there to celebrate my big three-oh! So thank you (e:Paul), (e:Matthew), (e:Terry), (e:Theecarey), (e:Leetee), (e:Uncutsaniflush), (e:Drchlorine), (e:Mike), (e:Jill), (e:Lilho), (e:Alison), Bernard, Avantica, Manish, Lori and Hong. (e:Flacidness), you were there in spirit.

So first came the scavenger hunt. [inlink]paul,3827[/inlink] Where do I begin to try to explain this great Muppet caper? (e:Theecarey) and I spent a fair chunk of time trying to sort out an interesting, yet not difficult hunt. Thank you (e:Drchlorine) for your input and assistance in creating the cds! While the teams had departed to begin the hunt, (e:Theecarey) and (e:Ladycroft) were patiently waiting at their stations. (e:Theecarey) in her hula skirt outside Kuni's and (e:Ladycroft) wearing 10 pounds of beads acting like a hooker on the corner of Elmwood and Breckenridge. That was fun. The teams never made it past clue 2. No matter, the outcome was entertaining, and that was the whole point of the exercise! This is the fight that broke out over the first clue [inlink]drchlorine,126[/inlink] It has been requested I create a new hunt, a super hunt, to take place in daylight. This one will be over the top, will require mucho cleverness and sobriety. More of (e:Paul)'s photos [inlink]paul,3828[/inlink]

When (e:Theecarey) and (e:Ladycroft) finally returned to PMT's they had much catching up to do in the drink department. Thank goodness for those melon shots, quick and easy. I still can't believe we drank that entire bottle of vodka! Not to mention the dents put in the Sapphire Gin, Tattoo Rum, Amaretto and beer. Karumba! Ok, so (e:Theecarey) has posted a pictorial history of the piñata's creation.[inlink]theecarey,10[/inlink] First piñata, ka-boom! Second piñata, Fort Knox baby! Woo-hoo! Many hours went into this labor of love and I was delighted to see that it lasted long enough to take several beatings from drunken (e:strip)pers. I even managed to swing a few kicks at it, while drunk and wearing high heels. Hee-yaw! Them's the skillz of a true Lady. When the piñata finally met its demise, it was like watching cockroaches scurry in the light. With condoms falling from the heavens I've never seen folks move so quickly. I swear I saw (e:Mike) snatch one mid air with his teeth!


(e:Matthew) and (e:Ladycroft) big smiles all around


(e:Terry) and (e:Alison) being cute as buttons


(e:Leetee)'s questionable gesture and (e:Matthew)

When the piñata battery was over we headed back inside for the little 'show'. Everyone was treated to the disco bondage broom riding water bottle spraying light show cabaret on the second floor. A lovely performance by (e:Jill), (e:Mike) and (e:Lilho). I think (e:Ladycroft) was supposed to get a lap dance but got water poured down her back instead. In retaliation (e:Mike) received a thorough soaking. Mess with the best, die like the rest. That line is usually reserved for video gaming, but when it comes to water wars or food fights it applies equally well. Even more of (e:Paul)'s photos [inlink]paul,3829[/inlink]


(e:Jill), (e:Mike) and (e:Ladycroft)


(e:Matthew) and (e:Paul) with the 'beer towel'


(e:Matthew) with his pink sea anemone


(e:Ladycroft) and (e:Paul) lounging


(e:Theecarey) and (e:Ladycroft), hot biatches!

(e:Drchlorine) did in fact get locked out of his apartment. I felt bad. I couldn't hear my phone ringing over the screaming fiasco taking place in the kitchen or I would have driven the keys over to him. Apparently the blue koosh ball was reenacting the part of a sea anemone ...but I think it's better to let (e:Matthew) tell that story.

The silliness continued on a downward spiral when (e:Leetee) started placing dollar bills in (e:Terry)'s pants.




This transpired into a lap dance for (e:Theecarey) and a lengthy chocobo goat song. Then I got a short but lovely massage from (e:Terry). Thanks for that, I was in great need!

(e:Theecarey) and (e:Terry)

By early morning folks had either departed or went to bed. (e:Paul), (e:Mike), (e:Theecarey) and (e:Ladycroft) turned the fancy room into a rave scene. 10 million glow sticks strong baby.


(e:Mike) acting all gigolo


Check out the super fly Elmwood strip sign! (e:Paul)'s photo

Next thing you know it's past 6am. Where does the time go when you're having too much fun?


(e:Theecarey) and (e:Ladycroft), hot biatches that have been photoshopped.

Hopefully I've included links for all the various photos associated with the 'ultra mega platinum first class birthday bash'. Sorry if you missed the stellar soirée!


Ciao.

I had a dream last night. It was very frightening. I have dreams all the time where I'm being chased by people, and more often than not I have the super-hero like duties of rescuing someone amidst the chase. It's adventurous, sometimes scary, but usually very cool in the fashion of a La femme Nikita episode. Last night was different. I was afraid. In my dream I was kidnapped while walking on Elmwood. A black van came to a screeching halt just as I was passing Spot. About a dozen heavily armed special ops dudes jumped from the van and beamed me in the head. I was knocked out cold. I woke up on a hospital gurney. I was being rolled down a cold hallway, the pattern of fluorescent lights blinking overhead, I realized I couldn't move. I was strapped down with full suicide gear. Now in my time of need, no one is there to assist. Why am I always playing the role of the super-hero and now that I could really use some help, there's no one. No one but a team of freaky looking doctors with perverted grins as I'm wheeled into the operating room. "This is going to hurt", says the man in a white coat with a grey comb over. "Nurse, tag the right arm". "Yes, doctor". She snaps on a bracelet, it reads, 'remove right kidney'. A wave of nausea overcomes me. I start screaming and yelling, "You can't take my kidney, and it's the only one I have left!" The doctor cackles and raises a scalpel. I awoke in a puddle of sweat. Ciao.