True Story©… The Poo Party!


 

     My birthday was last Saturday…
While I will gladly continue to accept gifts and donations for the remainder of the month of July, this will be the last time I mention it here until probably next summer.

     As I mentioned last week, I shirked the idea/expense/effort of a big cookout in lieu of putting on a Burger King crown and just having people show up and hang out with me all day in public places.  I chose to see Indiana Jones, to go bowling and then to eat Mexican food before heading back to the house.  All told, it allowed people to choose what level of their own entertainment they would partake in and pay for their own involvement in it.  Think of it kind of in the vein of a destination wedding, wherein your presence itself is the present.  That is literally all I asked anyone for.

     Of course, things being as they are – but thankfully not to spoil a parade of INdoor activities – it would rain off and on all day as the weather is wont to do in NC.  That means I couldn’t invite people back to the house after the sun goes down for a taste of bourbon and a bonfire around my fire pit.

     Instead, I decided to play on the “people don’t be listenin’” element of humanity and invited about five to ten people over on SUNDAY to the house for a “lil’ poo party.”
No one questioned what I had said, just asked what they should bring and what the address was.  I informed them to perhaps bring drinks and maybe a little something for the grill and I could hook up my big speakers to the computer in the garage and we have a good little time out in my big back yard.  At no point have I explicitly said what would be expected to take place in said big back yard, and that was by design.

     I was asked “should I wear a swimsuit?” and responded with a chuckle “of course!  Who wouldn’t want to see that?”
I was asked if it was kid friendly, and of course it was as my daughter came home to me from her week with her mother.
I was asked “I didn’t know you’d gotten a pool back there” and I just kinda muttered Wake me up, before ya go-go and never actually faced the question, as I have recently explained I might do sometimes.

     Okay, so it is Sunday afternoon, right?
I have cracked the garage window and fed the cables to my two big speakers out onto the patio.  I’m grilling hamdogs and hotburgers on the deck and people have been instructed to come around to the gate entrance instead of through the house so as to not arouse the interest of the dogs.

     Imagine the look on people’s faces when they found the back yard decorated with poop-shaped balloons I had ordered on Amazon and plastic cutouts of Mr. Hanky from South Park.

     I never said “pool party,” I said “POO party.”
It is not my fault and I accept no responsibility for anyone who mis-heard what I said and just up and assumed that I meant what it sounded like I had said.  And BOY did they ask.  I explained the above to everyone who defiantly asked where the pool they had been promised was.  There, of course, was the “why did you ask me to wear a swimsuit with no pool?” to which I responded “no, I said it would be nice to SEE you in a swimsuit, not that there is a pool here.”
Some people left without eating or drinking anything, and most disappointingly without having taken a moment to enjoy my whimsical poop humor.  Oh well, I guess I ain’t for everybody.  Not even sometimes the ones that I actually AM for.

     Speaking of the ones I am for though, some people found the misdirection and whimsy to be quite hilarious.  We hung out on the patio and deck, eating good food and drinking good drink until everyone peaced out for the evening.  Everyone expressed gratitude for inviting them to my home to cool out just a while longer after our time out and about on Saturday.

     Born day fun is over now…  Back to the shenanigous dipshittery, y’all.

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