last night julie, stephanie, justin, jesse and i went to natalie kriefels twenty third birthday party. it was only minutes after we began our descent into the bowels of rockwall, when a woman in a chevrolet suburban full of kids flipped us off in a most unsavory way. i'm sure we added fuel to her unexplained fire when we simply laughed it off as we pulled into the chick-fil-a drive-through. one thing was certain about last night: it was going to take a lot more than one redneck to derail our good time.
once we got to the party we ran into several old friends and had a great time catching up. i quickly shuffled over to the drink station, where i decided to pour whisky into my sweet tea. the first sip was like an epiphany... the ramshackle cocktail nobody thought would make it to the second gulp was delicious. i knew it needed a name, so i gathered our small group together to form a think-tank.
justin's contribution was "cock a doodle tea," i came up with "texas joose," and stephanie, whose contributions were mostly names that censorship laws will not allow me to publish, came up the the winner: "crooked necktie."
so next time you belly up to a bar and the bartender assumes you're going to ask for a sarsaparilla, tell him you want an ice cold crooked necktie...he will probably have no idea what you are talking about.
i feel like i may have been made for this domestic bliss lifestyle... but i'm not completely sure yet. after years of living in beer bottle and pizza box laden bachelor pads, it is a breath of fresh air to have a tidy, well decorated place of our own.
my wife is a very cool and interesting person. she's an artist. she makes me laugh and does things that are very unexpected. i love her. she lets me hang out with the guys...she lets me play the drums. she doesn't make me cut my hair or shave. she doesn't make me wear the latest styles from j crew, but is quick to let me browse around urban outfitters. she buys me beer, and is always sweet to me. she is my best friend.
last night i attended a superbowl party with loads of old friends. we were piled high and deep completely preoccupied by scott's brand new fifty-two inch tv, while hoards of kids (all under the age of 5) ran around trying to get away with as much bad behavior as possible. i spent most of my time sipping cowboy cold bottles of liberty ale, eating more tacos than any one human should, and teaching one particular two year old how to say "booya!"
we have all been a pretty tight knit group of friends since long before any children arrived on the scene, but last night there were so many of them we could barely hear the game. i guess i'm getting old, but in a few years i'll be teaching my own two year old how to say "booya!"