"Oh I have to," I replied. "Cause this is so going on my blog."
I'm getting ahead of myself here.
The weekend was indeed a long one as I headed up north to attend Kelly and Anthony's wedding. As she's from the islands it was a Hawaiian themed ceremony complete with Polynesian food and hula dancing. Lots of beer was consumed by your author and fun was had. I've never seen my friend Kelly look more happy or beautiful. Congratulations to them both.
Kevin should've been there as he adored Kelly. God I still miss him.
After the wedding I made my way over to Quoc's for a visit. He was alone with his kid Maddi as his wife was having a girl's day out. I used to scare the every loving hell out of Maddi as she would look at me and scream any time I got near her. Sort of like every other woman in my life. She's outgrown that now and can actually tolerate me. It's probably cause I buy her gifts.
She had a little drum similar to the one in Karate Kid part II. Her three year old self took the drum and started playing with it. I showed her the proper method of doing it and reminding her to know the ways of Mr Miyagi. I told her to say 'respect the ways of the Miyagi'.
"Wespect ways of Mee-ahh-gee," Maddi replied. Not bad for a three year old. She's learning. Next time I'll teach her how to crane kick.
Saturday was Mom's birthday. I took her out to eat and of course shopping ensued. She had a great time with Dad and I in tow. Afterwards we played 'Cash Cab' the board game. I read a question to my father which consisted of "Famous folk singer Robert Zimmerman used this stage name coined after a Welsh poet?"
My Dad was never into folk and even though he's part of the generation that should know this his knowledge of pop culture is weak. Tom Jones was his answer.
Mom and I laughed. I started to remind Dad that the cheeseball that sang "She's a Lady" is not considered folk. He didn't even know who Dylan Thomas was. My family is very cultured.
That night I met up with some friends at the Royal. God help me I hate that place, but it's where everyone wanted to go. We enter the meat market and head upstairs for some drinks. The bartender was a chipper one as I ordered two drinks. I noticed up front that he gave my drink very little alcohol, but loaded the girl's drink with spirits. I guess that's what I get for not having cleavage.
After hanging in the place meeting new people and drinking more it was time to leave. As we stepped out of the Royal everyone noticed an interesting chap dressed in short jean shorts, a white shirt draped by a Hawaiian one, and a gold chained cross swinging from the neck. He was stumbling about in his Birkenstocks and saying hi to everyone. The crowd outside was large, but all kept an eye on him.
This is a Kodak moment. Cell phones were out and many were taking pictures of the drunken gent. The crowd around were bonding talking about the hilarity of the guy. I whip out my phone and started snapping away thinking this will look great on Erik's Ramblings.
Unfortunately the picture didn't turn out all that well. Still you get the idea. I promise next time I'll do better.
Note the size of the shorts, the strange shirt, and the weird wristband. The rest you'll need to use your imagination.
The next day I leave to go home and went to get some petrol. I tried to use my debit card, but it wouldn't accept the pin number. After multiple tries I look at the card. What? I'm not Erik Frank. Ye Gods the idiot bartender gave me the wrong card. I think he was too busy looking at the boobs of the girl I was with to pay much attention.
My friend called the bar for me, but she got a message stating they were only open from Tues-Sat. I called my bank and cancelled my card, but made the trip in time for the Fantasy Football Draft, one of the best moments of the year. More beer was consumed as we picked out our players and gave each other all sorts of hell. Jesse provided much of the comedy and good times were had. I'm so excited that the season is about to start.
"You may have heard that back in the States there are some people who are smoking grass. I don't know how you feel, but it's sure easier than cutting the stuff." - Pat Morita