Sinner's Alley Happy Hour (Part 1)

Parent Cafe
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<p>m&s… Good luck with the drop-off and the second honeymoon (see description of hot ties in action above).</p>

<p>Sybbie…HB. Bucket is on order. If you were here, I’d put you on my dinner party list for tonight–I’m making a huge chicken briyani.</p>

<p>alum…may have to check your Shanghai schedule. I want to see a Norman Foster skyscraper in Shanghai to check out the curtain wall. Crazy stuff happening in the outpost office over here–things like mega-million dollar tower projects walking in the door. What’s that all about? The advent of 50? Must be. <em>shakes her head</em></p>

<p>Still out here breaking glass ceilings…</p>

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<p>First thing sluggdad said when he woke up this morning: Hell.</p>

<p>Slugg: *What…<a href=“As%20in,%20don’t%20tell%20me%20–%20I%20really%20don’t%20want%20to%20know.”>/i</a></p>

<p>Sluggdad: *The serenade.<a href=“Buggson%20is%20belting%20out%20a%20bathroom%20aria%20from%20the%20other%20side%20of%20the%20wall%20next%20to%20our%20headboard.”>/i</a></p>

<p>Slugg, pulling one eyelid up with an index finger, focuses on the oversized green numbers of the geriatric-style digital alarm clock on the nightstand. </p>

<p>*It’s seven-fifteen. Is there some reason why he’s in the bathroom bellowing like a love-sick moose?<a href=“I%20frequently%20ask%20sluggdad%20to%20explain%20buggson’s%20deranged%20Y-chromosomal%20behavior.”>/i</a></p>

<p>Sluggdad whining…I don-nnn’t know! </p>

<p>Slugg: When he is forty-eight years old, I am going to go visit him and his wife, and I’m going to get up on Saturday morning at seven o-fu#@ing clock, and I’m going to stand right next to their bedroom door and sing a song as loud as I possibly can!</p>

<p>Slow and steady, slugg waits for her chance to exact revenge… :)</p>

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<p>LMAO!!! :slight_smile: I love it!!</p>

<p>Bide your time, Slugg.</p>

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<p>slugg,</p>

<p>you are giving new meaning to revenge is a dish best served cold.</p>

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<p>Oh man, I love celebrations…</p>

<p>I love how the Tour De France cyclists bring their kids up to the award podium, and the kids wear the same color of jerseys as their parents. Robbie McEwen gets the prize for the best kid name…adorable tow-headed Ewan. ;)</p>

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<p>This got a few laughs over on another thread, so I’ll repost here.</p>

<p>Friday night, I went out with a friend to a bar. We’re sitting outside, nursing drinks, when a fork hit my foot. The culprits were a bunch of 30-something and 40-something guys. I chalked it up to drunken debauchery until the waitress came over and said that the gentlemen would like me to join them. I asked her if she knew that they had relocated place settings into my metatarsuls. She said that they were “really nice guys and really want to meet [me].”</p>

<p>Although I do not find colinear puncture wounds to be particularly appealing, I talked to the guys. So, if you want to know how redheads fare… I get away with more than I did as a blonde. </p>

<p>Me: You threw a fork at me.<br>
Guy 1: Well, I wanted to get your attention.
me: why didn’t you walk up to me and introduce yourself like a normal person instead of using your table setting as a missile?
[Smirk from guy 2]
Guy 1: Well, we thought that if we did that, you would start throwing things at us.
me: So, to avoid the possibility of me throwing stuff at you, you throw forks at me? [One eyebrow planted somewhere around hairline.]
Guy 1: You’re a smart one. If I were ten years younger, I would be going for you. I’m just trying to play matchmaker and get you to talk to [Guy 2]. </p>

<p>(At this point in any conversation in my previous incarnation as a blonde, I would have been patronised to death. Methinks that the red hair serves much the same function as bright colouring on poisonous animals.)</p>

<p>Placeware: the new flowers. </p>

<p>Suffice to say that the evening took a few unrelated turns downhill after that. Most notably, I found out that I’m not entirely single. So much for my committment-phobe extraordinaire M.O… :frowning: :frowning: (pout pout, huff huff) Yes, I was informed; no, I’m not sure if I have a choice in this. Don’t ask, because I don’t get it either.</p>

<p>(Aries looks over at the liqueur cabinet and thinks… “If I drink it, I don’t have to move it in a few weeks.” Cocktail hour on me!)</p>

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<p>Can’t be due to overimbibing in SA, as I had to resurrect it from deep onto page 2. :p</p>

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<p>Aaargh. Hi cyber-friend:). Possibly what happened is that this is not custom software but a 3rd party product. Maybe this just is what they got in Release 3.0 or whatever and they didn’t realize how important the name of the last poster is to us faithfuls and our cyber-friends…</p>

<p>Let’s drown our sorrows…</p>

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<p>Hey!!</p>

<p>What’s with all of the change in the decor? gosh, our running tab with the number of posts have gone away along with the big neon sign with the number of sinners that have passed through.</p>

<p>but the other side of the coin is that every visit may bring a new suprise because we’ll never know who stopped by unless we come in.</p>

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<p>What is happening…? I am confused… I see whose post was last, and sybbie that’s exactly why I came!</p>

<p>Alu, jmmom, sybbie: I’ll buy another round of what you are having, then let’s deal out some cards and play hearts! <3 <3 <3 :)</p>

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<p>OK y’all, I need to drown sorrows tonight, bigtime.</p>

<p>I am a ditz. An idiot. I have not felt like a ditz in, oh, maybe ever. Until tonight.</p>

<p>Long story, I will not tell it all. Suffice it to say that I <em>LOST</em> the tickets to tonight’s concert which I had been looking forward to for roughly 35 years.</p>

<p>I told you it was a long story.</p>

<p>I am an idiot. I just plain can’t believe it. I need to get drunk. Someone start pouring something potent down my throat, please?</p>

<p>Pout.</p>

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<p>oh mootie. Bummer.</p>

<p>What concert did you miss? We can start a cyber singalong as we start pouring. Its really hot out-- how about a few long Island Iced teas?</p>

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<p>Aw, sorry about the tickets. I like to sing–count me in!</p>

<p>I want to share something I just posted in the thread about kids being obnoxious the summer before they go away, cause this is a really <em>nice</em> thing. </p>

<p>DS has a pleasant speaking voice! I say this b/c most of his HS years we only heard a mumble. Did you do your homework?–mumble. What exactly does this assignment entail?–mumblemumblemumble. Now he offers us information on what he is doing at work or lucid explanations of physics connundrums or computer problems. Both the content and the diction are really amazing for someone you would have thought had a serious speech impediment. :)</p>

<p>We always knew he could sing, but this talking bit is special.</p>

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<p>Oh, Mootmom… so sorry !!!</p>

<p>I did something similarly dumb around 8 years ago – I didn’t lose the tickets, but I messed up on the date, marking the calendar for a show AFTER the one we had tickets for… so we were all set to go, and then I looked at my tickets, and of course they were no good. Big disappointment for the kids, and I’ve never foregiven myself. Plus, of course, the tickets were quite pricey. </p>

<p>So… all I can say is, I know how you feel.</p>

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<p>Along similar lines, when I was a kid, my parents were having a big party on a Saturday night. Well, the doorbell rang on Fri night while we were having dinner (and I was in my pjs). You guessed it- one poor couple showed up a day early- all dressed to the nines! They were so embarassed. I don’t recall if they showed up again the next night or not, for the actual party. What I do recall is that I went upstairs to my brothers room during the party, pulled out his chemistry set, and made stinkbombs with the sulphur! My parents were not too pleased…</p>

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<p>moot -</p>

<p>I had a beer for you last night. I can believe it - sounds like something I’d do.</p>

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<p>mootmom, so sorry. Here’s a me too story. 25 years ago I had tickets to a Ray Charles concert, where he was opening for a 70’s soul band whose name escapes me, but anyway they sang “Rubberbandman”. I had invited my mom, sisters, and a friend from college. We went to eat at Tadich’s beforehand, and service was slow. Everyone wanted to leave to make sure we saw Ray Charles, as he was first up. But no, I had an agenda, I wanted the dinner and show to happen. Then everyone wanted me to drive fast, but no, I am afraid of speeding tickets. Well, they said then, when it was clear we would be late, at least we will hear him sing “Georgia”. Of course, we walked in to the final strains of that song, and the conclusion of his set. No one was all that thrilled to hear “Rubberbandman”…</p>

<p>Still remember my shame to this day. Hope you aren’t too hungover. Things will get better.</p>

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<p>Imagine my horror when I got the time wrong for my DS’s jazz band concert at school in which he played guitar & sang a solo!!! Walked in to the strains of their last song, & missed his solo!!! </p>

<p>Yep-- Been there!</p>

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<p>Alu, the group is the Spinner, gosh that song used to irritate me. Now I can’t get it out of my head :eek:</p>

<p>Mootie,</p>

<p>Soo sorry too hear about your tickets. But, because we are your friends, we here on SA are more than willing to give you a concert and sing those songs you missed. </p>

<p>It will be bad. Really bad. But our bad singing will definitely take your mind off of missing the concert as you think of ways to escape us and our bad singing :slight_smile: </p>

<p>But then again, enough drinks will make anything sound good, so let’s keep em coming.</p>

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<p>So is SA’s bar on a desert island where I can make a reservation for August – all of August?</p>

<p>I don’t think I’m going to be able to handle the airheaded bundle of nerves S is becoming as we head into the homestretch for heading off to college. Kind of reminds me of the bundle of nerves I was 30 years ago. </p>

<p>It turned out fine for me, and I know it will be fine for him, too. I just don’t want to be around for August. I have no words of wisdom, and he’s not listening anyway.</p>

<p>Beam me up, bring me a margarita. Heck, I’ll even join a sing-a-long. Just get me out of here!</p>