better late than never

now that i'm a baywatch babe (er...) i've been terribly busy and important at all times. even moreso than ever before. right...so i've been neglecting my pants and since i lead such an exciting existence, i had better damn well share it. but one thing at a time. i have some pictures from the party anal and i sweated over for so long.

once i had smoked myself silly, began ignoring anal shook who was as overbearing as ever, and had a pint to steady my nerves, i managed to have a lovely time. dinner went well, the limo was a total surprise, and the hotel was perfect for our purpose.

we went to dinner at clyde's and the blushing bride helped to down 4 bottles of wine. oh my. not a fan of red wine, i gave my glass to anal who happily double fisted. after dinner (where more than half the girls stumbled outside) we got into a "phat" limo. am not exactly sure what "phat" means or why am using that particular choice of words but think it fits in this case. it was brand new and stocked with champagne and other delights, thanks to an anxiety-filled trip anal and i took earlier to the local giant.

larry, our excellent driver, took us to some monuments where we cavorted wildly and posed in lewd ways as cameras flashed. then on to georgetown where we hooted out the windows (and anne, the girl with the best ass, showed it around our nation's capital. she is pictured below.) we took quick stops at different bars to grab shots and pimp the bride, who was wearing a shirt i had made for her. (i sewed on lots of lifesavers and ironed "suck for a buck" on the front.) the bride got some man to give her his underwear and i shamefacedly recall shaking my goods on a dance floor...empty of all but me. er...right, so.

the denouement involved going back to alexandria and spending time at the funnest (yes, funnest) pub around--murphy's. once in murphy's, amy (an obvious bride in her "suck for a buck" shirt and tiara with veil) and company took center stage and (from anal reported--i was in no mood to mind anything at that point) overshadowed, thus angering a group of homely young women sitting near us.

i even met a man in the bathroom, name of phil. he and his friends were there on business from england. his friends attempted to talk the bride out of the upcoming nuptials and u.k. phil gave me money for our drinks. good, says i. we were eventually herded out and arrived at the hotel just moments before the guest of honor passed out.

anal and i shared a bed and insists i was a "cuddly blonde rock." ick. with anyone but anal. (she feels the same.)

the evidence:


me
mother of the bride
anal
amy--bride

amy in her shirt and veil

me
amy (wearing underpants on head)

anne
anal w/undies
me

we have tons more...ask and ye shall receive.

cheers darlings.

why my dad kicks your ass

it's the wedding weekend and i'm at home. being at home for a long time can get messy but a long weekend is rather nice. unfortunately, being at home means that i don't have some of my own things at my disposal. i am v. appreciative of the private bathroom but problems can occur when seven people must share a computer. it seems everyone has a more important reason than anyone else to check email and be foolish.

just a short while ago i, too, felt like checking my email. only one thing stood in my way--DAD. dad works a lot and often late. he is v. busy and important. i never tell dad, but i love him. he kicks your dad's ass. dad enjoys fishing in his big-ass boat and his limited computer time, often in the wee hours of the morning.

see, dad is a fanatic of sorts. besides fishing, he is obsessed with snood. he is the only one i know that actually paid ten dollars to purchase the game. apparently it is no longer offered on a trial basis and when i left, i took the free snood with me. poor dad.

tonight, after anal vigorously rubbed my burned and horribly peeling back (for sex appeal purposes in my "look at me" dress) i decided to see what was going on outside my dinky town. for that, i needed the internet.

as i walked down the dimly lit hallway toward the computer room i saw dad's shadowy figure and the monitor aglow. dad was snoodling. "oi vei" i thought, "i must sweet talk dad into going away." we got to chatting about work while i alternately tossed in some insults about his game strategy, to which he said things like "shut up" and "go away." dad is funny like that.

so then he starts talking about some greek family that i apparently was supposed to know about. i did not. he seemed both shocked and pleased that mum had not already mentioned them and spoiled his delicious tale.

apparently the story begins with some greek family who own a (seedy) restaurant called "paradise." do not let the name fool you. it is located near the rt.17 truck stop (famous for its ugly prostitutes and their ungodly acts) the greeks came into dad's work to purchase a car. dad is the finance manager. like i said, he's terribly busy and important and NOT a sleazy car salesman, contrary to what "working at a car dealership" might lead one to believe. right...so.

dad mentioned that they had a lot of miles on their old car and greekman said proudly that his son was in college and did a lot of driving. friendly and curious, dad inquired where. greekman replied "NOVA in annandale." this is very far away from where greekfamily lives. dad merely commented that the woodbridge campus was much closer. "oh no!" greekman exclaimed, "that campus is where all the dummies go."

greekman would have done well for himself to keep his mouth closed. jovial dad was not in the least bit amused. he told greekman that that was a gross generalization and added that it would be similar to his saying that everyone in the restaurant business was just as stupid. then he asked greekman "are you an idiot?" greekman, fumbling to remove his foot from his mouth said no, he was not an idiot.

dad was not done. he then told greekman that his daughter (me, elizabeth) had gone to NOVA at woodbridge, graduated from tech, and was now in grad school. dad concluded with "that dummy seems to have done pretty well for herself." yay "defending-my-honor" dad! greekfamily was speechless. uppity sleazy shabby restaurant owning pricks, the lot of them.

dad told them if they wanted their car they needed to fill out the paperwork and be quick about it--it made no difference to him. silently, greekman signed his long "opolous" name in the appropriate spaces and scooted away, tail between his legs, shamed family trailing behind. dad can be a looming, scary dad when need be.

he added to me that he would have liked to "bitch slap" the man. i have never been bitch slapped by dad--just regular slaps--but i would imagine a bitch slap would hurt just as much. dad is a man's man and strong as 10 oxen. dad's strong hand has taken its toll on my rear end numerous times in the past and it's no fun. i don't imagine greekman would have enjoyed it much either.

cheers to dad!