Part 2: The Sequel That Took Longer Than Indiana Jones 4 (and may be just as disappointing)...

It has taken me a minute to get my act together and follow up my last entry so now I have quite a bit to blather on about. Thus, forgive me if I blaze through a few events that probably deserve more attention than I plan to give them. If you want to bitch, there is a comments section after all. My guess is, though, that you will get tired of my banter and skip to the end anyway so it makes little difference either way.

There. With that out of the way, we may proceeeeeeed....

When last we left me, I was getting ready for Taylor & Britten's wedding, getting zonked & shooting guns. And getting mistaken for a lumberjack somewhere along the way. Yoiks!

Sooooooo....what about the babes mentioned in the prior entry? Well, honestly I kinda thought there would be more to report on that post-wedding. I will give myself credit - your boy arrived in style:

Ah, Heidi and Carly - so lovely. By default I was surrounded by hotties! But alas it would seem that Taylor & Britten, while having what seemed to be enough guests for a remake of the opening scene of the Godfather (the big Italian wedding, you dope) - it also seemed to be largely a crowd of old folks (which is nice to call people when you're pushing 30 yourself) - and kids. And dudes. Dammit!

But that didn't stop these ladies from keeping me entertained. Heidi thinks she can't drink more than a half a cup of wine. I don't think she has figured out that she's Italian yet. It'll hit her when she turns about 50 and cougars out. Yes, Heidi, I am talkin about you. Carly, meanwhile, had no such problems in putting away the spirits and before long it was time for the chicken dance. No, not the wedding-style chicken dance - the one from the TV show Arrested Development. If you don't know what I am talking about, hop over to Youtube real quick-like and then bounce back. The whole family on the show had their own dance - each member had their own unique spin on it....so Carly attempted to cover all of em:

Are we not entertained? Then it got really good - my friend *name removed to protect the innocent* (who deserves to be called my friend by now rather than "my friend's girlfriend") thought she was being slick and apparently ditched us to slip off and smoke a j with some snob (they didn't invite me). Before I even had a chance to bust her out, she realized she had been standing on an anthill the whole time. I think the ants were mad at not being part of the rotation, plus she was standing on their house, so they bit her all over her beautifully sandled feet. It was funny ha-ha til her feet turned red and swoll up. Puff, puff, pass, friend X!

The bride and groom were awesome as I knew they would be. Britten gets props from me for being the most laid back bride I can remember ever. And Taylor made this face while he danced with her that still makes me laugh:

Then to add to the grand finale, we all flodged on going out after the wedding. The Southern Heritage Classic was going on and downtown was NUTS. Heidi and I made it back to her car which was parked next to Stop 345 by my house. When I first met her, her now-husband Jason was in a black metal band that played there. It was called The Last Place On Earth at that time and I was the bartender. Glory days! Anyway, I told her we should walk down there so she could see how different it looks these days. As we walked down the sidewalk, a security guard stopped me and asked if we were headed to the club. Sure, I told him, but just to look around. He looked at me, concerned, and replied to me that "Its nuthin but babies down there tonight." Huh? Its a young moms convention? That has potential! Within moments, however, I discovered to my horror what it really was and why he was warning me, the 29 year old male. Streaming up the sidewalk came a crowd of what I am guessing to be 14 to 17 year old girls dressed in tiny gym shorts, stretch pants, tube tops and less. Behind them came the obligatory high school dudes, complete with that seventies preppy flyback hairdo they all rock these days. Behind them came a bum, eyeing those young girls like they were pieces of chicken. "Wussup gurl! You lookin so good gurl!" The security guard who had warned me stopped the bum and told him he was too old and to keep moving. The bum's defense? He spun around and pointed me out and screamed "Thass a grown-ass mane right there!" Hey - the guy had a case.

That's when I called it a night. Well, we did try to convince the girl at the door we had a daughter inside the party in attempts to get in free - thankfully she didn't fall for it.