Friday night Da Saturn picked me up and took Bert, Dave, Tripp and me to the hockey game. We watched Churchill beat us and then decided to go to Farmington for a little fun. Andy and DPC switched the cultural rules of driving as DPC had no idea where we were going (coming late) and Andy somehow managed to keep up. (I don't know if its DPC's fault though) We found ourselves in an intense gun battle. I was shot numerous times, 44 the first time and 25 the second time, but manged to fire back about 50,000 times. How did I survive? I don't know, maybe it was the fact that DPC's uncanny sense of direction was leading me around the maze of walls, but I think the it was the fact that we battled it out with lasers. Yes, laser tag! No blood spilt. After my culturally enhancing trip to Farmington I came home and went to bed.
Saturday I awoke at the Christmas Tree Farm. I tried regaining my consciousness,while looking at the time, then pin pointing where I was by the landscape, also trying to figure out how I had got here. I realized that I must have been in a sleep daze when my parents made me get in the car, only to drive me 45 minutes away from home. When I got out of the car the cold weather woke me up enough to find the "perfect tree" in under five minutes, but the family decided that they needed another hour in a half to decide which one they liked the best. When they finally picked one out they made me cut it down. I simultaneously sawed the trunk in half, while screaming at my family to push the tree so the saw wouldn't get stuck. As I yelled the tree began to fall. (figures, right when I was getting up to.) So there I was, buried beneath the branches of a Douglas Fir, trying in vain to slide out from beneath it while the sap dripped over my clothes giving me a fresh pine scent. I carried the tree back to the farm to have it wrapped up and then made it magically fit in the back of the our Impalas trunk. Covered in mud, I sat down in the car and proceeded to put my head up against the window to make a wish for some Arby's that would warm me up. My wish is my command and for lunch I had Arby's.
Saturday afternoon I found myself all nicely dressed up at the Tipping Point Theatre, downtown Northville. The play I was witnessing was called Forever Plad/Plad Tidings, where the average audience members age was 65 or older. I sat through it with my grandparents and I ended up enjoying some of it. After, we went to dinner at Papa Vino's, but I had already made it a priority to go to dinner for Julies seventeenth birthday party. So, when dinner was done and the winter weather had began, I made my Dad rush me home and then up to Border Catina just in time to catch them leaving and going to Berti's house. At Bert's house, the basement table found me, Julie, Sam, Berti, Summers, Tripp, Kelley and Beth playing Strip Spoons, which ended up with Bert, Kelley, and Tripp with no shirt on and rest of us down to the bare minimums. As the game got down to the line we heard the nice, comforting voice of Mrs. Uberti calming Charlie upstairs. The point being that we weren't supposed to be at Berti's because no one was home. We scattered like deer in head lights. Berti ran upstairs with just gym shorts on, while the girls all piled into the bathroom, Tripp picked up the pile of clothes and ran to a closet. I quickly ran around the basement a couple times, before deciding that the best place would be the room where Tripp was. Dave then came to the door and told us that Mrs. Uberti was coming down, and we should get out of there. so we came out and sucked up to her as much as possible. It was fine until she told Berti that, "David I know there are girls down here, so I am going back upstairs. You will invite them out of the bathroom and then I will come back down and introduce myself." After she chased the girls out of the house and Tripp left, Kyle and DPC came over for a fun night. Yes parents, if you read, I don't tell lies, we got trashed. When everybody left Berti got the vodka from outside the basement window. He got stuck in the process, but was able to fall off the window sill while protecting the precious goods. We transferred some to a water bottle then poured into our cups from their. After the first couple glasses we thought that we were going to need more cause this wasn't doing anything. So, we got more and the last couple put us over the top. Breakdown:
Dave: A supreme being when drunk. Most likely God, Buddha, Allah and all the others rolled into one. I'm actually positive if we gave him shots and then locked in a room with a Sudoku Book, he might actually finish the entire thing in under five minutes. Since little affected his strong mind, he mainly watched out for us.Dan: Well, Dans just out there when he is drunk, I don't really remember except the fact that he called Kelley and tried to convince her he wasn't gay by telling her he was a "tit-man" and that he needed Julies help on MTL Logs, but some how got on the topic of cake. Oh yeah, and something about a Legend- wait do you mean map key?
Berti: All he does is tell stories which take half-n-hour because he repeats himself like five times when explaining a specific part. Thats about it for him, story-telling.
Kyle: Some would say angry drunk, but I think its the fact that Dan was "being a pussy" in Kyles eyes, so he needed to tell Dan that through yelling at him. Also funny, and claims he doesn't remember the conversation me and him had:
Me: "Kyle, look what I found, Hot-Fudge Sundae Poptarts!"
Kyle: "Wheres all the hot?"
Wow.
Me: Well, I jacked my knee up pretty badly when bouncing on an excercise ball, but other than that, according to Dan, I'm still crazy, I just can't stand up.
That morning Mrs. Uberti made us waffles and pancakes which I couldn't eat, so I went home and slept all day
No comments:
Post a Comment