August 14, 2007
Holy Barfimony
Since I was M.I.A. all weekend and my week has suddenly gone mental, I'm being a lazy-ass and relying on a Guest Blogger to entertain you today.
Donning the blogging hat today is Kelly Garrett, who is currently "kvelling with excitement about my 1500th post!"
[You know I won't be able to resist an occasional bracketed comment or two. It's my nature.]
* * * * *
“A, did I barf before or after the relatives left?” Not something a 31 year old plans on asking his brother at a family wedding.
“Wait... you barfed?”
Even better, I thought. No one knew, not even my brother, who was sharing my room.
After A’s face remained in an inquisitive and confused stupor, I lifted up the pillow next to me and revealed the chunks I blew last night. Yes, I slept with my own barf. Why?
Well, picture it. Sicily, 1922. Just kidding.
Seriously, picture it. Los Angeles, 2006. I arrive at the airport an hour early for a 4:35 p.m. flight into San Francisco. My cousin Erik’s rehearsal dinner started at 7:00 p.m. (BTW, is it really a rehearsal dinner if you invite 60 people? Do all of the guests really need to rehearse sitting down and pretending not to be bored? WTF?) The 4:35 flight was to get me in just in time.
After a series of mishaps that included pilots and flight attendants not showing up for work (this was not even Northwest Airlines), a computer crash (no, I do not fly JetBlue), and an onboard lavatory back-up (I wouldn’t dream of boarding Continental), the plane did not take off until 8:15 p.m. This left me with almost five hours of free time to spend drinking white wine.
Needless to say, I arrove (I know this is not a word. For those who know my brother, this should not need an explanation) at the dinner quite drunk and naturally, drank more white wine while watching videos of my cousins impersonating Def Leppard in 1986. Will someone tell me what went wrong in the 80’s?
After dinner, A and I invited the cousins and uncles up to our room to have more drinks. I should have had one more glass of white wine, but what is it about white wine that whets ones appetite for champagne? So, I had 2 champagnes. Not glasses -- bottles.
[What is it with the Gays and their champagne?]
I was quite garrulous for the next 45 minutes (the time in which I drank both bottles) and then all of sudden passed out. I woke up five minutes later, rolled over to the unoccupied side of my queen bed, barfed what looked like a raw chicken tender and tomato stew, rolled back over, and went to sleep until the next morning. I was so drunk that I did not even care. (At least I didn’t cuddle with it.)
[The most shocking part of this is that the other side of Kelly's bed was unoccupied.]
Well, A sure got a kick out of this (you know, laughing hysterically with great exaggeration in his own annoying little way) - especially when K came into the room and started cleaning it up. Pirate, if you think K is really scary in normal day-to-day relations, you should see her cleaning up barf!
[I can't believe she cleaned it up for him! I would have rubbed his nose in it and swatted him on the ass with a newspaper.]
But, as the great Ignatius J. Reilly would say, fortuna smiled upon me when, not one hour later, it was A who was hurling is guts out(albeit in the toilet), and it was I who was laughing my ass off.
And for you regular wenchies out there -- no, he did not pee on the carpet.
Comments
OK, you now have absolutely no room to comment about the number of barf posts on my LJ.
Posted by: Marty at August 14, 2007 02:02 PM
I only barfed to make you feel better. :)
Posted by: a at August 14, 2007 03:22 PM
Was this a Holiday Inn Express?
Posted by: Kris Munroe at August 14, 2007 03:34 PM
love barf stories thanks for sharing!
Posted by: tom at August 14, 2007 04:06 PM
Man - your story really makes me miss my days of barfing from drinking too much. Is your bro drinking again?! Isn't that going to kill him? CHEERS!
Posted by: Diana at August 14, 2007 04:36 PM
as the great I. J. Reilly might note, perhaps the abortion of the soi-disant rehearsal dinner upset your pyloric valve. you are sensitive.
Posted by: vb at August 14, 2007 07:16 PM
This is K- and I can assure you, Pirate Wench, that I did NOT clean up his barf. In fact, I believe he tipped the maid quite generously for her added trouble!
Posted by: K at August 14, 2007 08:38 PM
Loved it. Kelly - you are a natural at this. You need to blog more often.
Posted by: Agent Tequila at August 15, 2007 06:38 AM
very bad indeed. 47 beers in Vegas anyone? I hope to Charlie that we will not go for a repeat this year!
Posted by: sabrina duncan at August 16, 2007 02:19 PM