There are people at work who constantly try to talk me into doing things, however these people are much younger and have far less children and responsibilities than I do. Plus, they obviously don't hate other people, and I just can't say that I have that in common with them. A social butterfly I am not. I prefer to spend my time with a relatively small, like-minded group of fellow people haters.
However, today I'm throwing caution to the wind! I've lined up a sitter in the form of my children's grandmother, which she is constantly complaining about my not asking her to do, but I know how hard it is to have both of these little monsters all day, I do it ever single Saturday and Sunday and it's not a task that I would wish on most people, let alone a loved one. But she asked for it! And today marks a special occasion as people that I don't actually hate have asked me to do something that I actually want to do.
Yep, it's time for another bonfire at Gene's house. These are the type of occasions I would skip work for, and I don't skip work for much being that I enjoy things like electricity, food, water, etc. I'll be leaving the friendly confines of Valley, AL and heading back to my old stomping grounds in Villa Rica, GA for an evening of fire, food, drink and merriment with my old roommates, my brother, and a few other special guests.
The last time we did this was after Gene's wedding, an evening that would go down in history as one of the most...... interesting ever. Okay, there we were, enjoying our drinks of preference, telling the same old stories that we've told a million times over, yet laughing just as hard this time as we did the first, when Gene decided that the fire could use a little more fuel. The most effective form of fuel for stoking a bonfire? Gasoline of course! So he stumbles over toward the fire, gas can in hand, and begins to pour. It wouldn't be long before gas can and all would enter the fire, and I tell you no lie, you have never seen a bunch of drunken idiots disperse faster. The view from overhead was probably akin to watching ants scuttering about at a picnic. Luckily no one was harmed. Of course there were other incidents including a possible case of alcohol poisoning, and a mystery condom that would result in one of Gene's comics forever losing it's mylar bag. Of course I was blamed for the comic incident, but to this day proclaim my innocence.
So Bink, if you should happen to look outside your window at any point today and see this: