If you're at all familiar with my site, then you already know Motherbumper. She's helped me blog The Oscars and The Scripps National Spelling Bee (and by helped, I mean she made all the clever jokes while I sat around with my finger in my nose). She's taken a turn as Guest DJ for a week. She is also someone I consider a true friend. So when I decided to beg pay ask a few people to write some posts for my site while I was on vacation, I just had to have her start off the festivities.
Ok. Enough of my gibberish. Here's Motherbumper:
Perhaps the best thing about blog sitting for someone on vacation is the fact that you can snoop around in the medicine cabinet, replace the liquor with water, and search for contraband at leisure. Not like when I was a teenage baby-sitter and had only the length of time it took to eat dinner at the local kick-a-boo and watch a feature length motion picture to discover what fetish/kink/gasp-worthy characteristics lurked beneath the smiling family.
But that's not what I'm here to babble about while I'm watering these sad, sad plants and dusting this here shrine to the vinyl EPs and LPs. Isn't that archway made of plastic 45 rpm record inserts and guitar picks just stunning?
Anyhow, I'm hear to babble about me and some past exploit that I've failed to prattle on about over my place. I've talked about living with the skaters before but have kept most of those stories offline because holy crap, my folks read my blog. Yet I've sort of gotten over that fact. Mostly because I'm too old to be grounded. Finally. Hell, it only took close to 39 years. So lets talk about my 21st birthday. Note that I'm doing this because I'm naive enough to think my family lives in a cave and has no idea about hyperlinks.
Anyhow, in Canada twenty-one is not a significant birthday unless you were really looking forward to finally being able to rent a car. But when you have three close friends who all have their birthday in the same week, well that only means one thing: party all week until your head explodes, a limb is severed, or you lose your job (whichever comes first). Good times.
This particular birthday we decided to have two house parties that straddled the party weekends. The first involved borrowing a drink menu from one of the crazy huge bars in town that served a gazillion kind of drinks. And when I say borrow I mean take off the table and never return it. We used this menu to create a gift list and we actually had the balls to assign some guests a bottle to bring so we could recreate our favourites. Pure genius. It must of been my idea. Can't remember though, I was too drunk during the planning stages.
The second party though, well it turned out different. Not bad different, more like hilarious different. Sometime during party week - it's hard to remember when due to aforementioned drinking - one of the hotties we all knew, promised each of the birthday girls that she could shave his head at our end of birthday week party.
He was hot. Like Eddie Vedder hot (it was the early nineties), he wore a kilt and it looked so right, and he wasn't an idiot. And we were all pretty-much single (I was on a break, I swear). Anyhow, other people found out about his promise and a few more guys followed his lead and offered to do the same. Well on the evening of the party as things progressed, the head shaving began and I must say, getting to shave a bunch of good-looking guys heads in the middle of a packed party was pretty freakin' awesome. But then one of the younger guys volunteered to have it done - he was underage and I swear was not drinking because he was one of those stone-cold amazing skaters (and snowboarders) who treated his body like a temple - anyhow, he jumped in the chair. He swore it was okay so we shaved his head like he was our best friend's younger teenage brother - know what I mean? Trust me, it was cute. And he looked good with a shaved head.
So the next morning, everyone in the house was lazy and hungover when the phone rings. Turns out that underage recently shaved head guy's parents were not impressed that their son shaved his head at a party and he was grounded until he was thirty. And he was being shipped off to boarding school. Can you imagine the guilt we all felt? Because you know, it's all about us.
For the rest of the summer we felt awful when we thought of him going to boarding school. But as the school year came closer, the grounding wore off and the boarding school didn't materialize.
So then we had him let us tattoo our faces across his back with ashes and ink.
Oh I'm kidding. It was our initials.
Anyhow, it was pretty much worth it because some of those guys looked super hot with a shaved head, let me tell you.
Song of the day: Hunger Strike by Temple Of The Dog
21 Club
