Snack Attack

DonnyCat just jumped up on the bed while MyPoolBoy and I were finishing off some pineapple and powdered sugar.  This in itself was not highly unusual since he is a moocher and takes it upon himself to get a taste of just about anything that I am cooking, serving, or eating.

So plop!  He's on the bed. Thud thud thud.  Lumbers across the bed because although I affectionately refer to him as my baby kitten,  the larda$$ weighs 17 1/2 pounds, and let's face it,  there is nothing dainty or delicate or even cat-like about a 17 1/2 pound cat's footsteps across a pillow-top mattress.  

Sniff one was of the bowl containing the powdered sugar.  He glared at me like I had set out a trap or poison of some sort. 

Moving along....

Sniff two was of the pineapple.   This elicited  a surprised look as of perhaps it WAS a trap or poison that I, myself should not have, either.  

He proceeded to deftly maneuver past the bowl and plate on MyPoolBoy's side. Because, at this point he had determined that this inedible crap in the snack bowls was somehow MyPoolBoy's error in judgment. Or that perhaps MyPoolBoy had set the trap for ME to eat the poisonous not-a-real-snack. 

So here he stands, his attention alternating from the plates, to My PoolBoy.  And then, the next response was him looking at me. I'll narrate (I often do for DonnyCat because his English is a little hard for common folks to understand sometimes) :  "Dude, what is THAT?  That's not a snack!" 

"Momma, did you EAT that?  Are you ok?"  

Then he proceeded up to put his face right in my face (I surmise to smell my breath to see if I had been drinking and perhaps that is why I fell for "the trap" ).

Beauty

MyPoolBoy texted me the other day that a local convenience store was going out of business and had what was left of their wine on sale.  "How much 'on sale' are we talking?"  I asked.

"$4 a bottle. How many do you want me to get?" 

Silly PoolBoy....how many ARE there? 

So. Don't judge.  This Ho-ficially makes me a cheap drunk! There's  something to be said about the beauty of cheap $4-a-bottle convenience store clearance rack wine.

1) $4 a bottle - it won't hurt your feelings too bad if you spill some or if you have to toss some out because a fly gets in it and drowns to death in what I can only imagine is the happiest of deaths. 

2) After  the first 2 glasses you don't even notice that it is convenience store clearance rack wine anymore.  After the 3rd glass you won't notice the dead fly, either.  

3) Fabulous easy-open screw-top lid that doesn't leave those pesky pieces of cork floating around in the bottom so that, because you are determined to drink every infinitessimal drop of that sh1t, your last glass won't cause you to hack like a tomcat yakking up a hair ball thereby initiating a gag reflex that could cause you to hurl intimating  to your fellow party-goers that you cannot hold your likker, which we all know is NOT TRUE.  

4). If you do, in fact, hurl up ,some of this beautifully cheap wine later in the evening, you won't feel too much remorse, because Hey!  It was only $4! 

Checklist for a Friday Evening

Meet Lucilles at bar.

Consume beer between raucous fits of laughter. 

Get up and briefly leave patio when one of the Lucille's breaks a fart bomb capsule. 

Become concerned when her finger begins dripping blood from the cut she received while breaking the fart bomb vial. 

Drink and laugh until the band on the patio starts setting up and getting in our way. 

Discuss karaoke options. 

Leave.

Text three Lucille's when a viable karaoke option is located.

Turn  vehicle around and drive back  downtown for karaoke.

Consume beer while laraoke guy attempts to set up FOR ALMOST AN HOUR. 

Speculate if karaoke guy is distracted more by us or the DTs that he seems to be shaking off while trying to earn his 7 day chip.  

Cheer when karaoke guy finally starts. 

Sentd Hammy to request songs to sing.  

Get bummed out by first two singers because their songs are serious downers AND they sing too well for this to be any fun at all.

Laugh at toddler dancing because parent saw fit to bring a toddler to a bar.  

Laugh when me and Felix both have the idea to stick our foot out to male the toddler trip and fall while dancing.  

Discuss buying our own karaoke business to put a stop to all this nonsense.

Drink more beer.

Abandon beer briefly for the restroom, where you find the dancing toddler getting her diaper changed.  

Return to find a former student singing some alternative song.  Badly.

Remark to Felix that due to her height, she might get a traffic ticket for driving her car without a car seat. 

Sing karaoke with MyPoolBoy. Finally.  

Eat a nacho. 

Resume beer consumption. 

Try to decipher what song the next guy is singing.  

Use Siri to try to locate what song he is singing.

Accidentally hit head on table while laughing at Siri's response that she does not understand the request!. 

Sing a Britney Spears song.  (Cuz that's how I roll.  Deal with it.) 

Convince Hammy to sing  and play air guitar on next song. 

Dance maniacally to a Billy Joel song. 

Do the Cupid Shuffle.  Explain to Hammy that it has remedial lyrics available as a modification for dancers who are unfamiliar with the dance.  

Sprint for last swig of beer in bottle when it is announced that you and Hammy are up to sing next after the aforementioned mainiacal dancing.  

Perform unfreakingbelievable rendition of Pat Benatar.  

Scream at an eardrum splitting blood curdling pitch and volume when 80s Night is announced for Month of April.  

Embarrass the crap out of MyPoolBoy.  

Say goodnight to Felix and Hammy because MyPoolBoy is DONE.  

Arrive home and find DonnyCat impatiently awaiting my return.