But do believe this -- my incarceration had everything to do with Humphrey.
The day started off brilliantly. My brother had the hot spot in Stone Gate with some kegs and eggs action. A little beer pong was being played and Humphrey was pretty much wearing the same outfit he wore the night before at the dance majors' formal. We looked great that night.
Humphrey was putting on a show as usual. Serenading co-eds left and right, the jolly fella even mesmerized my visiting sisters.
Jenn texted me tonight saying: "i wish i used the f word because i want to use the phrase "fuck it do it live... i'm serious, i keep saying it in my head."
(As I type this at Humphrey's desk, I'm incredibly disappointed that Big Rick -- a great Catholic and a legend -- consented to a picture hanging at this very desk. The beautiful family is dressed in white shirts and jeans in corny poses. C'mon Rick, I expect better. And they apparently did this crap every year. Denise actually told me about this Sunday. "I'm sure your mom understands this," she said. "I just tell them take it and get it over with.")
So after hanging at my brother's place, Humphrey moved on to the noteworthy Chip Tarkenton's place for some shots. (Chip below. Yeah, I know he does well, but with a pick-up line like, "Yo, Baby!" who wouldn't?)
Bad idea? Maybe not. Humphrey was on his game. Tarkenton's flexible, female companion Devon was feeding Humphrey shots, in hopes of laying him later. As we eventually moved out toward Ashby and the Block Party on Village Lane, Humphrey was feelin' it. He looked like Ron Burgundy and people were diggin' it.
Here's where things went wrong, at least for me. Humphrey was holding me and my sisters up as we moved through the Manor. The kid had to stop every five seconds and slap high-five with everyone!
After awhile I decided to split ways from burgundy-clad stud. Bad idea? Yes.
See part 2.
No comments:
Post a Comment