The last time Hunang and James hosted a dinner affair, the conversation had degenerated to lows rarely attained in the annals of parties. Hunang claimed not to understand what had happened. He had laid the finest China on a delicate tablecloth . After all, one must hold oneself to certain standards when heirloom porcelain adorns a table.
This time around, things would be different. Breaking with tradition, Hunang and James decided to prepare dinner at Miss T. and Brandon’s house. Perhaps a change of venue would elevate the debate to finer subjects such as philosophy or literature.
The table was beautiful
The dog had been confined to the yard.
Hunang was cooking up a storm in the kitchen
Bill stole Dorin’s sweater but he did not mean to.
In the living room, the guests were discussing very mundanely former living arrangements. Bill explained that he had lived at the Ritz… The Oram Ritz that is, an 8 unit residence in a beat up Dallas neighborhood. Cory asked him if there was a doorman and Bill told us about the feral cat doorman which was not very effective as far as concierges go. We then proceeded to the table. It seemed things would be different this time.
The subject of the Olympics was brought up, how male and female swimmers looked exactly the same in their suits and huge Matrix goggles and how they would kick our asses all the same whatever they were. We wondered if the regular gymnasts were making fun of the trampoline folks. The consensus was that they undoubtedly were.
Miss T. explained that she was mind-boggled by the amount of tiny countries that participated to the Olympics and wished she could have crashed the opening ceremony parade by representing a bogus nation. The Oompa-Loompa Overseas Territories. She imagined herself marching proudly in her striped candy red and white sport uniform.
You could see that Brandon, Miss T.’s husband, was perhaps not 100% convinced that the evening was heading towards loftier horizons. He was scratching his head. Da wife was feelin’ pretty feisty…
Dorin and Angela broke into an impromptu rap.
Bill talked about Fergie from the Black-eyed Pees, how she always spelled something in every song and… how she had peed herself once during a concert.
Oh dear! Singers peeing themselves! The party had officially broken.
Cory knew it. 15 minutes into the dinner and a point of no return had already been reached.
Love me some Pucca
Meanwhile Miss T. has gone into a Pucca delirium… Joined by Bill.
Love me some Pucca too
Cory discovers that he shares a birthday with Angela on September 12th, and inexplicably breaks into a celebration dance.
Bill attempts a Madonna.
Bill’s Madonna sends Miss T. over the edge.
That’s when Angela decides to sing the entire “I Like Big Butts” song. Kudos sista’!
Miss T. is very amused. Brandon hangs in there.
Bill decidedly breaks the jovial mood to tell us about the father he never knew growing up. He tells us about the time he visited him in Waco in February 2003, the second time they had ever met. As Bill prepared to leave, his dad hugged him and whispered to his ear that he had put a little something in the trunk for him. How thoughtful!
Bill drove home feeling he was building a foundation with his old man and loving it. He was so emotional he was crying. It was raining. He suddenly remembered about his father’s gift and, curious, pulled off the road. He slowly opened the trunk. In the middle of the compartment: a VHS tape. A Girls Gone Wild tape. A previously viewed Girls Gone Wild Tape… Have I mentioned Bill plays for the other team?
And just like that, when we thought we were safe, we weren’t.
That’s when we notice Brandon’s absence.
Brandon is gone to the store to buy raspberries for the cheesecake. “I don’t know what happened. They are the same raspberries that have been on the list since 11 am this morning!” Miss T. explains with a tiny point of gentle exasperation in the voice. She further explains that there will be no cheesecake for anyone until Bryan does the Beyonce. I think that Bryan likes to be begged because it is always such a big ordeal of huge proportions to make him do it.
We must liquor him up. The tequila is brought to the table. Things are getting serious. We all want Miss T.’s made from scratch cheesecake and if we have to carry the man to the dance floor, we will.
The man drinks up but needs further assistance. We send in Angela to lure him to shake his booty.
“You’re a fine woman! Back that ass up! From the East side to the West side!”
Finally! “Come on Bryan! Drop it like it’s hot!”
Holla atcha boys!
Bill: “You will look back at this with affection.”
Bryan: ” Do you have a scrapbook of regrets too?”
Bill explains that Cory and Leon are his oldest friends… In terms of long he has known them AND how old they are. He said he would have been sad to leave them behind but that he almost had to when he was laid off years ago. He had briefly entertained moving to Asheville, North Carolina. Hearing the news, his mother had said: “Oh no, you don’t want to live there. It has been eaten up by the queers and the Wiccans!”
Bill’s mother seems pretty high maintenance. He had failed to call her for a week and she left him the following message on his phone: “I don’t know where you are. I don’t know what you’re doing or who you’re with. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.” I guess that showed him!
Brandon has come back with the precious raspberries. Beyonce out of the way, we are all waiting for the dessert.
Orgasm on a Plate
Bill: “Well, don’t these raspberries just MAKE the dessert?”
Cory: “Ooh they taste as if they had just been bought!”
On our end of the table things are going pretty well.
On the other side, things seems more China appropriate.
They are probably discussing philosophy or literature.
On our side of the table, Bill blows into Oscar’s nose.
Angela is singing “Big Butts” to Oscar.
Bill pretends Cory is Oscar
Bryan shows love to Angela
Cory is dancing
Miss T. is dancing AND singing
Dorin and Oscar are smooching on the couch
Angela is booty-dancing Leon in the kitchen
James and Hunang wonder where they went wrong once again.
After all, the evening has just started…
note: in the course of the evening, 7.5 bottles of wine, 1 bottle of champagne, 1/2 bottle of tequila, 1/2 bottle of scotch, 1/2 bottle of Crown, and and unknown amount of vodka were consumed (but not by me.)
note deux: you know you are pushing the blogging envelope when you show up at a party with a camera, paper and a pen.
note trois: some names have been changed to preserve the anonymity of above-referenced drunks.
note quatre: some comments have been censored.
note cinq: after this post, my next venture will be my “World through the Eyes of planetross” that emanated through a Single for a Reason challenge (I’m not quite through preparing for this because the man thinks not like a regular human being.) I will then switch to a one photograph a day format in order to cope with my workload and fight the blogging addiction which is totally eating my clock.
note six: I hope they’ll forgive me.
note sept: no animals were injured in the making of this blog.
A difficult delivery (breech if you will) but a full line of tee-shirts, mugs, and other stuff too
The “cochon tres tres chic” line looks adorable on wee kids.
“Maybe the light at the end of the tunnel is just the entrance to a lighted tunnel.”
Buster Keaton sporting his favorite Kelly Pettit Unplugged shirt.
Marlon Brando and his special optimism method acting in Streetcar Named Desire”
“cochon pour le bacon” shows planetross’ patriotic fiber (the man is a Canuck)
Why buy a regular boring mouse pad when you could buy a beauty like this one?
Generally I’m not one much in favor of red and yellow together but I think it works rather well here.
nathalie with an h's Confessional 
