Wow. Where does the time go? I have no clue. Sorry to leave y'all hangin'.
So anyway - the other day we were invited to go boating. Like on a boat. On a lake. That's how boating is done. So after I asked a million questions and the gal was likely dreading she'd even mentioned it, I decided we would go. Why not? We don't get out of the house much. It would be fun! And this was a group of people with whom we have never really socialized - we know each other through the brunette - and we text all the time - but this would take our friendship to a new level. And we'd be naked. Well almost.
And we had a ball! I don't think I made an ass out of myself. Although I find that VERY hard to believe. I can normally make an ass of myself sitting in my living room alone. But get this: SHE LEFT HER CELL PHONE IN THE CAR. Shit. We had no choice but to actually converse with one another - since texting was now out of the question. Conversing. In person. Face to face. It almost seems foreign to me anymore. And that's just pretty darned sad. Because I like to talk. And talk. And talk. And who the hell even knows what the fuck I talk about. I doubt that any of it is terribly interesting. But I do know I never shut.the.fuck.up.
And the next morning, I woke up and my knees hurt so bad I could hardly bend them. So I woke up the husband:
Me: Did you hit me in the knees with a stick?
Me: Did those people we were with kick me in the knees to get me to shut.the.fuck.up?
Me: Well then why.the.fuck do my knees hurt so damned bad and why does one of them have a giant ouchie on it? Explain that if you didn't hit me in the knees with a stick and they didn't kick me in the knees to get me to shut.the.fuck.up....
He: You fell off the cooler dumbass.
Me: Fell off the cooler? Was I dancing on it? On their boat? Dear Jesus, help me.
He: No. We were at home and you were sitting on the cooler in the garage and you just fell off onto the floor.
Me: Nice try fucker. People don't just fucking fall off coolers onto the floor. Was I having a seizure?
He: No. You were drunk.
Me: No shit. Nothing new there. But that doesn't explain this falling off the cooler while sitting on it. What the fuck was I doing?
He: Getting up to make another drink.
Me: Whatever - nice try fucker.
I'm pretty sure he hit me in the knees with a stick. Because honestly - you just don't fall off a cooler while sitting on it. Perhaps I should start wearing a helmet and using a seat belt while I sit around on coolers in the garage? I think I will. It will give people who drop by something new to talk about. It's been awhile since I've given them any new material. This should be a good one!!!
Getting up to get more to drink. Good God. I'm pretty sure I was getting up to give him some dance lessons. I've been trying to teach him to two-step and waltz for 10 years now. Dude has two left feet and cannot get it. I was trying to teach him to waltz - it's easy - it's 3 counts - 1-2-3. And I would try to move him backwards and there he would stand like a damned redwood in the forest. "It's a WALTZ - 2-3." And he'd just stumble backwards because evidently you cannot waltz in flip flops.
"Take off those damned flip flops - you can't waltz in flip flops - you're not that fucking good yet - I am - I'm a professional - now WALTZ -2-3" (because if you yell the name of the dance as one of the counts - it really makes the other person understand how the hell to do it). Fuck it. He can't move backwards. Maybe if I go backwards and he goes forward - just MAYBE his feet move that direction. WALTZ-2-3 - nope - all he did was step on my feet. He sucks at dancing. He really does. And that's likely why I fell off the fucking cooler (supposedly, but I still doubt that's what happened) - I was likely exhausted from teaching him to WALTZ -2-3.