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My fucking tongue is killing me. Can someone please tell me why my tongue hurts so badly? Thanks. Yeah, so last night. Well no, I'll start with yesterday morning. Dropped the kids off at school at nine. Came back home. Cleaned out the garage. Maggots. Fucking gross. Maggots in a bag of my parents' clothes. Awesome. Broken beer bottles - like nine of them. What the fuck? Got it all cleaned up. Even set up a little conversation circle of lawn chairs and a hideous blue table. Nick wasn't working. It was Beach Day for the company. All four of them. So we went out on the water and sat on one of those gigantic trampoline things with the weird dildo looking attachment off the side. Baked in the sun. Watched Nick, Mark, and Christian try to knock each other off. Watched Nick take a flying leap for Mark, who ducked, and bounce off the dildo and land pretty spectacularly with a big ass splash. Took some vicodin. Drank eleventy thousand beers. Picked up the kids. Everyone was back at my house. Drank half a bottle of wine. Drank another bottle of wine. Took some more vicodin. Are you seeing where I'm going with this? It was insanity. Danielle and Carol came over to pick me up so we could go to Summerfest. We were ready to go and Jeramy called and said wait for him, he wanted to go too. So we did. What he didn't mention is that he hadn't even gotten in the shower, and he was still in fucking Chicago. So we fucking waited. And waited. And my parents came over. That's always super fun when I'm wasted. My mom started crying because we're moving. Then she started crying because I won't call DMIL and apologize to her. afsd miasdkrnc ;s liweli;adjsf va;sodui fds;lij Apologize for fucking what again? I quit. That fucking bitch called my parents to tell them what an ingrate they've raised. I cannot fucking believe her, except that's so typical. My dad starts in with his fucking hippie philosophies, how I should be the bigger person and just let her think she's won. FUCK NO. I hate this shit. I hate that she has even my parents turned against me. FUCKING BITCH. Her time is gonna come. Jeramy FINALLY showed up, with a bottle of Crown. Oh man. So we drank that all the way up there, and walked around with it for a while too. Then we got fucking lost because we're fucking retards. By the time we made it to Summerfest, Cowboy Mouth was pretty much done. So we said fuck it and went back to the car, except that we couldn't remember which one of the four hundred thousand parking garages we put it in, so I just picked up a security phone and told the kampus kop that I was confused and she needed to help me. She was just as dumb as we are, and didn't help me. Eventually we found it. Did I mention that we had lost Jeramy? He was talking to this hobo at a bus stop and he wouldn't come with us, so we left him there. Then he called my phone and said that he was sitting in the Miller Time bar and we needed to come get him. I went in there to get him, and he hands me yet another drink, and told me to hang on because he was going to get the bartender's number. Except no. He wasn't. I told him we are leaving right now. He said fine, leave. I'll find my own way home. I reminded him that we were in Milwaukee. He claimed to be perfectly aware of that fact. We left. I called Nick to tell him what happened. I knew that Jeramy would call him in a few minutes saying that I left him in Wisconsin. Fucking half an hour later, we were almost to the Illinois border, and Nick calls me. Sure as shit, he begged us to go back and get Jeramy. Danielle was driving, so I handed her the phone. She said, "Fuck no," and hung up. When I got home, after taking a detour through the fucking North Shore somehow goddamnit, there were forty people in my house and no parking. Jeramy's roommate had gone to get him, and Jeramy was calling every ten minutes to tell me that "something bad is gonna happen when I get there, Beth." Nick locked me in my bedroom with the phone and said if I heard his voice, I should call the cops. Mother fucking A the drama. Then he puked in his roommate's car and passed out or something to that effect. I'm a little freaked out because he knows that Nick and the boys are out of town tonight and I'm home alone. But I'll bet he doesn't remember any of it today. I'M HOME ALONE. For like an entire day. Actually until tomorrow night. I'm doing cartwheels of joy right now just thinking about it. I so do not feel like going back up to Milwaukee again tonight, but I really want to see O.A.R. and it's not like they're going to come to my house and play. Unless... Okay, I probably should NOT kidnap them. Even though my brother hung out with them back in the day, it would still be pretty bad to like put them in my trunk. I am much less hung over than I have any right to be. So weird. I'm strangely hyper. But I have no feeling in my right arm, so either I slept on it stupid (known to happen when I pass out as opposed to fall asleep) or I'm getting a TIA migraine. Please God (or Jeebus or Krusty the Klown or whoever controls my brain chemicals) don't let it be a TIA. I don't know what I would do if I had one of those home alone. Well yes I do, I'd probably call 911. And then some hot paramedics would see me in my Poms Camp 1995 "DANCE!" shirt and itty bitty but so very comfy gray coochie cutters. And that is not good. Not good at all. Whew. That was a lot of finger talking. Finger talking is hard when your right arm does not really take signals from your brain all that well. I should go back to bed. Kids are: Why am I always sitting here in silence? And I should really change this field. Last person who pissed me off: Jeramy. Heard in my house: "We're going to Grampa Nick's, Mommy. I miss you." Awwwwww. Miss Anything? pics - 2007-06-05
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