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Vocabulary lessons
Jun. 10th, 2003 07:42 amWords and phrases that I'd never have learned, had it not been for LJ:
faceplant
squick
subspace
bibliorgasm
fucknuggets
faceplant
squick
subspace
bibliorgasm
fucknuggets
Jun. 10th, 2003
Oh, those wacky, wacky hijinks!
Jun. 10th, 2003 08:59 amSo Saturday night was Game Night, but enough about the games. Oh, sure, we played Celebrity Taboo, and we played Catchphrase, but this was one of those nights when Game Night (or Der Spielnacht, as I like to call it) was basically and excuse for a bunch of 32-year-olds to act like they're 17.
The problem-that-wasn't-a-problem, you see, was that Colleen was hosting for the first time. Colleen has two big advantages in the party-host realm:
1) She keeps the bar well-stocked. I don't usually drink, but I pretty much got handed something when I walked in; don't know what it was, but it was purple, and vodka was involved, and even though they mixed it weak in deference to my non-existent alcohol tolerance it still was more than enough for the entire evening.
2) She lives on a third-story apartment right in Glens Falls' downtown, such as it is. The significance of that will become clear momentarily.
So I got there close to on-time, which meant I was one of the first ones there, of course. We spent quite some time waiting for Cretey and Smitty, gabbing and listening to music: Trey had brought her Monkees box set (woohoo!), and I'd made a mix of stuff I'd downloaded from The April Winchell Show (nuthin' like the Ukrainian polka version of "Highway to Hell" to get the joint jumpin').
Pretty quickly, though, attention turned to the windows, which overlooked a fairly busy street, made busier by the fact that not only was it Americade Weekend and the Glens Falls Blues Fest, but Boston were playing at the Civic Center a block and a half away, and the lot across the street from Colleen had been commandeered for overflow parking, for which they charged $3 in a lot we usually used for free. And Col's windows had a great view of the lot.
We started with paper airplanes, which unfortunately were left in my care, because the only planes I make well are stunt planes, i.e. not something you want to use if you want said plane to get across the street. So we ended up with two on the sidewalk below; my one attempt at a standard dart landed squarely in the middle of the road and got dragged halfway to the hospital by a passing car. Boo. Paper airplanes soon gave way to blue-liquor-tinted Ziploc water bombs; the less said about them, the better, except to say that everyone was terrified of leaving early.
The fun part, though, was when the concert let out, and we got to watch the denim-clad masses parading by. We tried to see if we could them screaming by leaning out and screaming, "BOSTON RUUUULES!" but no one bit. Ditto on Cheech hollering, "SHOW US YOUR NIPPLES!" It's easy to say that I did not approve of such shenanigans, but in truth I was hemorrhaging from laughing so hard. Did I mention that Cretey had mixed a little bit from every bottle on the bar and handed it out? Wasn't half bad, actually. Had one sip. One.
Oh, and the third best part of Colleen as Host? She's a block away from Club 22. Especially good, as it was the night of the Klitoral Kabaret. We weren't sitting close enough to see the lip-synching, but golly, it was fun.
The problem-that-wasn't-a-problem, you see, was that Colleen was hosting for the first time. Colleen has two big advantages in the party-host realm:
1) She keeps the bar well-stocked. I don't usually drink, but I pretty much got handed something when I walked in; don't know what it was, but it was purple, and vodka was involved, and even though they mixed it weak in deference to my non-existent alcohol tolerance it still was more than enough for the entire evening.
2) She lives on a third-story apartment right in Glens Falls' downtown, such as it is. The significance of that will become clear momentarily.
So I got there close to on-time, which meant I was one of the first ones there, of course. We spent quite some time waiting for Cretey and Smitty, gabbing and listening to music: Trey had brought her Monkees box set (woohoo!), and I'd made a mix of stuff I'd downloaded from The April Winchell Show (nuthin' like the Ukrainian polka version of "Highway to Hell" to get the joint jumpin').
Pretty quickly, though, attention turned to the windows, which overlooked a fairly busy street, made busier by the fact that not only was it Americade Weekend and the Glens Falls Blues Fest, but Boston were playing at the Civic Center a block and a half away, and the lot across the street from Colleen had been commandeered for overflow parking, for which they charged $3 in a lot we usually used for free. And Col's windows had a great view of the lot.
We started with paper airplanes, which unfortunately were left in my care, because the only planes I make well are stunt planes, i.e. not something you want to use if you want said plane to get across the street. So we ended up with two on the sidewalk below; my one attempt at a standard dart landed squarely in the middle of the road and got dragged halfway to the hospital by a passing car. Boo. Paper airplanes soon gave way to blue-liquor-tinted Ziploc water bombs; the less said about them, the better, except to say that everyone was terrified of leaving early.
The fun part, though, was when the concert let out, and we got to watch the denim-clad masses parading by. We tried to see if we could them screaming by leaning out and screaming, "BOSTON RUUUULES!" but no one bit. Ditto on Cheech hollering, "SHOW US YOUR NIPPLES!" It's easy to say that I did not approve of such shenanigans, but in truth I was hemorrhaging from laughing so hard. Did I mention that Cretey had mixed a little bit from every bottle on the bar and handed it out? Wasn't half bad, actually. Had one sip. One.
Oh, and the third best part of Colleen as Host? She's a block away from Club 22. Especially good, as it was the night of the Klitoral Kabaret. We weren't sitting close enough to see the lip-synching, but golly, it was fun.
