Seriously, who crashes a bridal shower?

I had been craving a cheeseburger for awhile. Not just any cheeseburger, but Kewpee's cheeseburgers. They are the best in the world. Literally. It's science.

My good friends Mara and LL had mentioned that they had never really experienced Racine, my hometown. I couldn't believe it. I figured that they should really experience such a place, and that they should definitely at least leave with a good taste in their mouths.... Well.... I tried.

Mara had a Saturday off, so she came down from Madison to Milwaukee. After getting lost in many of the most absurd of ways, she finally made it to our house, and we made the short trip from the Mil to Raycilla, Wiscompton.

I'd like you to take a moment to check out "Welcome to Wisconsin" by the Raytown Hustlas - www.myspace.com/theraytownhustlas. It's also not a bad idea to catch the documentary "World's Best Prom" which actually is about my prom (www.worldsbestprom.com). I'm in it for about one tenth of a second, haha. Both of these masterpieces give you a good idea about Raytown, if the following story doesn't tell you enough.

Anyway.

So we go to Kewpees, and I get my usual. Two cheeseburgers, fries, and a rootbeer. The other girls order the same thing, but didn't realize that the cheeseburgers are normal-sized, and so they were in over their heads a bit. Oh well, turns out we'd need the good base anyway.

Then we decide to check out one of Racine's best parts - downtown. Main Street shopping, specifically. It was nice. A highlight included a cute new store called "Elegant Pauper" which included many items that had a map of Wisconsin, complete with a star on Racine and the phrase "Racine: The Hamptons of the Midwest," on them. That is so ironic and ridiculous, it's not even funny. Oh wait. It's actually hilarious.

I figured while I was in town, the girls should meet my mom. They'd been dying to anyway, and I thought it would really round out a great Racine experience.

I called my mom, and she was at a bridal shower. Darn.

Called her again later. She was still there.

"Why don't you guys just stop by?" she says.

"We aren't invited. We can't just crash a bridal shower!" says I.

"Sure you can. Here's the address."

So off we were, on for another adventure.

I told LL and Mara - "Why do I have a feeling that we won't even make it back to Milwaukee, and that we'll end up getting hammered at this little party?"

Called it. Well, almost.

So we get to the party, and it's a pretty standard Racine crowd, except for this absurd squirrel, who was in the bird feeder.





The party's theme was a luau. This reminded me of an absurd night spent in Madison during which a very drunk friend of mine went around asking people "Do you like luaus and shit?" and handing out flyers to someone who he didn't even know's party. That night, and that guy, are an entirely different story, however, and it is time to get to this luau.

In the picture below (from left to right), we have Mr. Turkowski, whose house was used for the party. Then next is JoJo, who used to babysit me as a child. In lime green, taking a drink, is Melissa, the bride-to-be. Next is Cheryl, who is pretty close to having the quote of the day for that day. I'll get to that in a second. And finally, we have Becky, who will also require more explanation.



So. Cheryl's quote. I was talking about a bizarre experience I had with a date who showed up to my house wearing mal-fitting clothes (among other bizarrities - yes, I am aware that I most likely made up that word there). Cheryl says, "Oh, his clothes don't fit? And he knows where you live? I'd move. People whose clothes don't fit usually end up being stalkers."

What?

The reason that would be a quote of the day is pretty clear, I think. Hilarious!

And Becky. She's quite the feisty one. I've known her since I was a small child. She's my aunt's best friend, and is more or less (more more than less) hysterical. This day was no exception.

So we get to the party, and immediately get lei'ed, and are handed tropical rubber duckies, as well as festive glasses with floral straws. I fill my glass with a margarita. I mean really, when the choice is between something that has Tequila in it, and something that does not, is it really even a choice? Let's be serious about life for one second. The answer is no.

Mara and LL had some sort of Wap punch. I believe it involved Champagne, which would've been intriguing to me (I love Champagne), if it weren't for that whole Tequila thing, especially since it was right after my trip to Austin (which I still have to blog about.... Waiting for pictures from John to add to the story). Plus, I was driving, so there was a one-drink rule in effect for me!

Here's Mara, caught by surprise on the left, and LL on the right, enjoying the festivities.




And because I'm nice (although not nice enough, apparently, to not post the caught by surprise one), I did a re-do on the picture for Mara's sake. And here it is!




You may be wondering, "How is it that Cheryl didn't win the quote of the day hands down with that absurdity?"

Well, it's because my mom just may have taken the cake.

Because I have no attention span and can't sit still oftentimes, I kept squeezing my rubber ducky, which caused him to squeak.

Kim, the mother of the bride, said "I didn't know that the duckies squeaked."

It was time for my mom to dole out her motherly wisdom. Here's the bomb she dropped....

"Yeah, he squeaks until you fill him up with alcohol and suck his butt!"

Whaaaaat? Really?

Hilarious.

I was later to be admonished for misquoting her as talking about sucking ass. Not yelled at for saying ass, but just for misrepresenting the situation. Obviously.

Here is another shot of the party.... My aunt Laura is the redhead on the left. Next is the daughter of the people whose house the luau was at. Then there's Mom, looking festive indeed.





The luau started to die down, so we decided that it was time to take the part elsewhere, but not before I got invited to the wedding. Did we go to Milwaukee right away as planned? No, we most certainly did not.

I had always wanted to go to a bar on South Memorial Drive called "Cash Money's." Why? Because it is called "Cash Money's" and that is pure comedy, to me.

Why haven't I gone? Because it is on S. Memorial Drive. My mom won't go with me, and she is pretty bad ass, as is my stepdad, who won't go either. But who is the most bad ass of them all? Apparently, Becky is. She said she'd go, and my mom said that she'd go if Becky went, and Auntie Laura's always up for a good time, so let's do it!

But first, it's time to let Trixie, Becky's dog, out. So we go over to her house and let the dog out. In the meantime, Becky takes us to her basement, and offers us anything we want from her bar. "It's just like college," she says, "You're in a musty basement with a bar."

It is at this point that it is clear that Becky did not go to college. Her bar had bottles such as grey goose and Stoli. There was no Ron Diaz, or even Admiral Nelson. There was no Fleishmann's or Buen Amigo. Silly Becky, your liquor is far superior to a basement in most college houses! So I had a Grey Goose Pear and water (it was just ok, nothing I'd get to have at home or anything. Apparently I am not a fan of pear-flavored beverages).

So we move on. Onward and upward? Certainly not.

On the way to Cash Money's, I decide it would be humorous to put on the cowboy hat I obtained during my trip to Texas. It was a gift from the photographer that I worked with whilst there.

Apparently, I was the only person that thought this was funny. No one said anything. I thought it was equivalent to me wearing one of those viking hats with the horns on it, but.... Wrong again. When I asked about it later, I was told it looked cute. This baffles me, but so do a lot of things in life, so I've kinda stopped asking questions at times.

Also, for the record, I am wearing a tuxedo tank top (as you may notice). I'm wearing this because it says, "I want to be formal, but I'm here to party." Cool points go to those who get the reference. And, in retrospect, it seems like perfect attire for someone to wear to crash a bridal party luau.

We get to Cash Money's and the door is locked. Brutal. Well, what can we do? We decide to take a picture in front. So Becky takes my camera and takes this picture. Obviously, the sign was the focal point.




Then she moves in a bit closer, so that we are more visible.... My mom is probably saying something hilarious.




Then Becky comes back, and we start talking about how unfortunate it is that there isn't some hooker nearby that we could give a couple bucks to to take a picture with all of us in it, and that we'd chase her down and beat her ass if she tried to steal my camera, when as if from nowhere, a man with very disgusting teeth appeared as if from nowhere.

He was sweeping the sidewalk behind Cash Money's. I have no idea why.

We asked him to take a picture for us, and he did.




What confuses me here is that this man is sweeping the sidewalk, and not shooting for the cover of National Geographic or Vanity Fair. His skills are.... evident?

He informs us that Cash Money's does not open until 7pm. It was almost 6:30. Hell no we are not waiting around to go to Cash Money's. I am sure that I will have another opportunity. The nice man tells us that if we come back, he will take care of us.

I am sure you will, kind sir, I am sure you will.

Next stop? Hi-O Headquarters. This is where I basically grew up. My mom worked here for like 12 years or something.

One special treat that we enjoyed whilst at Hi-O was Broadway Bake's World Famous Pizza. What? You've never heard of it before?

Weird!




See the sign below? My mom made it like.... 20 years ago, or something crazy like that.

Here's LL and Mara, below, with their first Shorties. I did not partake, because I do not like beer. I had one Captain and Diet, and then several waters.

I wish I could say that a whole bunch of crazy stuff happened at Hi-O, but it didn't. Being in that place is an indescribable experience. I can't really do it justice with words.

My mom and I played some songs on the jukebox, and I sang my heart out while getting my ass kicked at darts. I am very inconsistent, and it just wasn't my night.

Before departure to move on back to Milwaukee, I needed a picture with my mom and aunt....

Ooops. My ridiculous hat was now blocking my aunt's eye. Re-do!

Much better. Thank goodness for my trademark head-tilt!

Notice that my lei has now become a tutu. Hotness!

Next stop was wing stop. That was funny because all three of us really had to go to the bathroom, and none of us wanted to do so at Hi-O (for good reason), so the first thing we did was hit the bathroom.

The man running the place asked us if we were alright and if we were going to eat there. Haha, as though we would just use the bathroom in a restaurant and then leave? Heinous!

Then we got our wings. They weren't terrible. Apparently, they are Troy Aikman's favorite. I think the quote on the packaging and such there was "These are the best wings I've ever had in my life - Troy Aikman." Ridiculous. And, for the record, they don't even hold a candle to the wings at the Brodeo.

We ate our wings, then decided that we were too tired and not feeling the whole idea of getting dressed up and going to such places as Hi-Hat (where I now work!) and so on, so we just went as we were to Murphy's. Always an experience. We were exhausted, so we had one long island each, played a couple games of photo hunt, and a couple games of darts.

People were commenting annoyingly about my hat (compliments, but given by drunken douchebags. Brutal.), and we were just way too tired, so we called it a night. Home before 1am!

I swear, Raycilla, Wiscompton really just sucks the life right out of you!

The sky is falling! Nope, just a chicken wing.

So, Wingding Wednesday... A little background. This summer was the summer of Brother's in Madison. I practically lived there. I was honestly there 3-5 nights a week (Wednesday through Saturday, with random Tuesday's after flip night at Brat's thrown in). Why Brother's? Well, it started out as boy chasing. No elaboration planned on that one! Then we realized that they play amazing music... most of the time. THEN we became friends with the staff, and the rest is history.

Wingding Wednesday is the best night of the week, if you ask me. So good that twice since September, I have gone there afterschool and come to school the next morning. Yes, an hour and a half, hungover at six a.m. Brut brut! The reason this night is so fantastic is that they have delicious wings for only ten cents each. AND, Captain mixers are 2 for 1. The Captain and I... We are great friends. Sometimes enemies, but as they say, there's a fine line between love and hate.

This past Wednesday, we went up because Danielle just finished her first semester of graduate school. She had been living in the library and clinic constantly. She needed to get out, and where's a better place to do such things than at Brother's in Madison?

During the summer, we kinda assembled a group of girls. Weird for me, because normally I hang out with all guys. This has been working well, though. Well, the five of us hadn't hung out since Halloween. Here's a pic.



Here's the scoop. We were shots. Well, all of us except Jamie. From left to right... Danielle, my awesome roommate. She was a kamikaze. You can't see it, but her shirt says "READY TO DIE." Next is Mara. She's a Jolly Rancher. Lisa's in the middle, and she's a redheaded slut. I'm a dirty girl scout. I put fake dirt all over me, wore knee-high socks, and my skirt is pretty short. Jamie was a pumpkin. I know. LAME! The four of us who were shots wore name tags that had our ingredients on them. And of course, we did all of the shots we were dressed as throughout the night.

So anyway, this Wednesday was a reunion of the five of us... The five of us have somehow became "Derek's Angels" because Derek (Jamie's boyfriend) created a facebook group and invited only the five of us. Bru-tal. So yeah. We were finally all back together. Yay!

I decided that I was going to "take it easy" this night, since I had to teach the next day 90 miles away. My friends were having none of it, especially Ross. Here's a couple shots (two of nine that he insisted on taking that night) of Ross and I... He just kept lining up the captain and diets in front of me!!!



So yeah. I had more than a little Captain in me. And I also had the pleasure of running into a few people from my hometown (name withheld - of the hometown and the people I ran into!)...

It was absurd.

Many wings and rounds of Captain ensued. It was Derek's (the one who is apparently in charge of the Angels, who are doing a photoshoot together within the next month) birthday, so at night, I introduced everyone to my good, dear, old friend Pat Ron.

Here's a shot of the five of us re-united...



Yes, cute little Danielle is definitely standing atop something. This is one of very few pictures you'll see of her being taller than anyone over age 8. And if you're focusing in on my playboy armband, allow me a few moments to explain. I stole it from Rob, one of the bouncers at Brother's the last time I was there in November. No, I have no idea why. But I did accidently wear it to a go-see the next morning with a lingerie designer, with my hair still wet from being in the hottub until 8 am. Thank God she also happens to be one of my best friends!

The night rolls on, and vultures swoop. I am told to "b strong." And that is just what I did.

One incredibly absurd guy was just dancing up a storm. It was hilarious. He was also singing without abandon. We did a couple duets.

Then I found a guy who looked exactly like Jamil Lott. Except he was about 18" shorter than Jamil, and probably brushed his teeth about 63% less, because he really had terrible breath. I can think of few things that I regret more than talking to this guy about how he looked like Jamil. I clearly wasn't trying to hit on him. Just wanted him to know that he looked like Jamil. Couldn't I have just said that, and him said "ok" or "thank you very much" or something like that and have both of us move on with our lives? Apparently not.

Anyway, so I am standing there and texting (shocking, I know), when as if from nowhere, a chicken wing lands on my phone. And another on my arm. Someone had apparently bumped into a guy who was walking past me and carrying a basket of wings, sending several wings flying in many directions, covering me, my phone, and other surroundings in the sauce (which, for the record, contains no cheese). At this point, one of the friends I had run into from my hometown, apparently sees that his girlfriend has had a wing land on her head (brut brut!) and decides that the best option is to beat the guy carrying the wings' ass. So there is a huge fight right next to me. Table gets knocked over, I'm covered in beer and wing sauce, many glasses and bottles broken. Just bru-tal. Thank God for Pete and Dan swooping in and breakin it up, and apparently ripping my friend's jeans off in the process. My first instinct was to break it up, which is what I do at school... Then I realized that these were not middle school children (who are also larger than me, but not by as much of a degree as these grown men... Well... That is actually questionable).

Here's a couple pics of the wonderful staff at Brother's and I...






That's Curti. He's probably one of my best friends... I'll be posting the story about the night we met sometime soon - it's a good one! Just gotta get around to pasting it over from MySpace...






That's Pete and I. I call him "Pet" because when I was first putting him into my cell phone, that's what I typed in, and it stuck!



That's Rob. His legendary armband is wrapped around my leg, and we thought we'd take a picture of it before I gave it back to him!

There wasn't much to the night after the fight was broken up... Little Dan was kicking us out, which was obnoxious... I paid my tab, and Danielle took me to McDonald's and then to Mara's. How brutal is it that McDonald's has a special "middle of the night" menu that serves double cheeseburgers, but not singles? All I want is a single cheeseburger. Ok, all I want is actually two single cheeseburgers and some fries and a drink. But those bastards in the McDonald's in Madison (we went to three the night that I stole Rob's armband!) will not give it to me.

Then D and I went back to "Hotel Mara." Mara was so amused by my footie pajamas (which LL calls "Teletubby pajamas, because I apparently look like a teletubby when I wear them) that she had to take four pictures of me in them in front of her Christmas tree - here's one...



For the record, it was those footie pajamas that I wore back to Milwaukee the next morning... I didn't have it in me to put on real clothes just yet. I did, however, put on my boots over the pj's... I ended up taking one off, though, because I couldn't zip either of them, and the left one just kept dragging on the ground! I didn't want my precious new boots to get destroyed, so I thought that carrying it in my arms would be a good call. I am sure that I was a sight to behold to construction workers when I walked past in that state! They definitely gave me strange strange looks! Oh well... Life goes on!!!