Sunday, June 14, 2009

That dog and I hit Bourbon Street hard (he got most of the beads)



It’s 8:13 p.m. Chuck and Junior are both in bed. Amen, I have the house to myself. Ordinarily I’d pour myself a decanter of wine and don my mullet wig and sit on my front stoop and flip off the neighbors, but I already drank too much this weekend, and one of the cats has been sleeping on the mullet wig in a corner, so here I am.

Clickety clacking.

Chuck got home at 6 a.m. yesterday. He was completely obliterated from filming all week, but we had a wedding to go to and I’d been informed the day before by the fiancée via Facebook that Chuck was in the wedding.

Fucking Facebook. I abhor it, but clearly Chuck would be underdressed without it.

So we went to the wedding. And you know what? We sat next to Captain Karl.

Who the hell is Captain Karl? Why, he’s an old friend. A friend whom Chuck has not spoken to in years because of blah, blah, blah and etc., etc., etc. (I’ve been informed I’ve been airing too much of my husband’s laundry lately, so I’m going to have to be a little more obtuse from now on.)

The abridged version:
Ten years ago, Chuck and I moved to New Orleans after freezing our asses off in Maine. We lived with Captain Karl while Chuck worked for him. (Can’t imagine what went wrong there, can you?)

Why I was homesick:

Captain Karl and Chuck would go on tuna fishing excursions and leave me to watch Karl’s chocolate lab. The dog bit his feet when he missed Karl so I’d have to put socks on him and he’d slip on the hardwood floors. Sometimes he slid into the walls. Sometimes cockroaches the size of grapefruit were scaling those walls, and I’d have to console the dog, the roach and myself. Even better? Chuck and Karl came home stinking of fish.

Why I wasn’t homesick:
The sun. Drive-thru margarita stands.

The last chapter:
After a year or so in the Big Easy, Chuck and I moved back to Connecticut. Chuck and Captain Karl went their separate and sometimes petulant ways. Then last night at the wedding we all sat at the same table. There was wine. Scotch. Someone might have been humming "Total Eclipse of the Heart" (I said might). Blah, blah, blah. Etc., etc., etc.

The last page:
Even though the Shakira look alike wouldn't get up and sing because she was fighting with her boyfriend (or making out, we really couldn't determine), I had a great time at the wedding. And I fricken cannot wait to hop on Facebook and say so.

13 comments:

blognut said...

You go, girl! Get on Facebook and tell the world.

And what was up with Shakira refusing to get up and sing? It was totally her, right?

Dto3 said...

I'm with you on the Facebook thing - it's hard enough to keep up with the darned blog and all the porn in my inbox. Sheesh!

Keely said...

Lousy anti-laundry rules. I want details.

Leanne said...

I'm not even sure I followed all that. BUT it might be worth getting back on Facebook to follow you and figure it out. I said might. I'm still not big on Sleezebook er, Facebook.

Frogs in my formula said...

I'm not sure I followed all that either. Mental note: no more blogging on Sunday night.

Lindy said...

lol - I love it when the husbands read the blog AFTER the dirty laundry has been aired!

kyooty said...

Without Chuck's Dirty Laundry we'd be lost

C.B. Jones said...

You should have put socks on the roaches.

Otter Thomas said...

Hilarious post! It makes me want to put on a mullet wig, drive thru a margarita stand, and have sock footed dog races across our hardwood floor tonight.

Anne said...

I think the bedraggled cat slept-in look could only improve the mullet wig, but that's just my opinion.

Drive-through margarita stands make life worth living. I think that is what Connecticut is missing (along with a long list of things that I will refrain from mentioning).

Mrsbear said...

Still can't get the hang of the FB obsession and all my "friends" and their updates every time they take a leak...just wipe and shut up about it. The wedding sounds like drunken debauchery though, of course you've got to tell FB.

Pricilla said...

Hmmm, are the cockroaches in LA as big as the ones in Hawaii? You can put leashes on those suckers and take them for a walk. Hated those babies....

Glad you had fun at the wedding. I barely facebook. Can't keep up. I am a lazy goat.

Stacy (the Random Cool Chick) said...

Hubby just created a profile in Facebook and added me as a friend...then he started noticing my blog posts. He never read my blog before - though he knew I was blogging daily - so I started to worry that I'll have to be careful what I post...and decided he can suck it. ;)

That sounded like an interesting wedding - and thanks to Chuck, hard to follow because you really couldn't give us background and more deets...so we'll blame Chuck. But I still think he's a keeper. ;)

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