Yep, that's what we did all New Year's eve, and a fun time we had of it, too. All of us.
There were all were, sitting around and fondling the genitals of a cardboard wooden cutout. I mean, wouldn't you? It's quite a fun little past time, really, and quite the way to ring in the New Year.
Really, if you think about it, it's almost as much fun as the real thing, except for the paper cuts. Oh, and for that horrible moment when your cardboard cutout lets out a groan and spews a dustcloud of sawdust into your face. That gets a bit dicey, if you ask me, especially when it gets into your champagne. Doesn't taste quite as good going down as the real thing does, if you know what I mean! Wink wink.
Disclaimer: No actual cardboard cutouts were sexually molested during the making of this photo.
More of the same sort of nonsense, underneath the cut. What, were you expecting anything different?
Aye, we all celebrated that night, even the wee little ones! Champagne and spirits were had by all. The smaller the child, the larger the bottle of liquor, I always say. You should have seen the bottle of whiskey being cradled by the neighbor's two-year-old!
As for Theo, he didn't get THAT sick. Nah, not a bit. I mean, not that we talk about. But we're optimists, we always look on the bright side of things, doncha know. So what if he was still drunk, a week later? Slurring your words is good for a child.
Disclaimer: No actual small children were inebriated during the making of this photo.
Oh, these. These are the remnants of a post that I just never got around to writing, because honestly, I was disappointed with the results.
Those who've been friends with me for a while know that every year, I like to travel with Corb to visit the Christmas display of a man who, every year, finds a new way to bring new meaning to the phrase "gayer than Christmas," by putting up absolutely insane Christmas displays outside his house. I'm not sure exactly why he does it. It might be that he simply likes the attention--the road to his house is packed with gawkers for the three weeks that he puts up his display. It might be that he truly thinks that shrines to Liberace or Martha Stewart represent what "holiday spirit" is supposed to be about. But I think that, more than anything, he's making fun of those people who turn their house into Las Vegas during the month of December...he's just taking things one step further.
Maybe it was in keeping with the general air of depression that hung over this year's holiday season, but I just plain didn't understand his Christmas display this year. I mean, I'm still scratching my head, trying to figure out the theme. "Have Yourself a Very Art Deco Christmas"?
And to think, I had to work so hard, having Corb get out of the car in the cold, and cross against traffic, and wear his fingers to the bone, snapping pictures, while I ordered him about. I tell you, it plain flips my wig, thinking of how much effort I put into putting this together. And for what, I ask you? If I were the owner of the house, I would have chosen a much more entertaining Sarah Palin theme...same as I did. Nothing quite says Christmas spirit like Sarah Palin.
If you want a truer sense of the real spirit of Christmas, just click on the link above for some of his better displays. This one was just as flat as day old ginger ale.
Oh, and this? Well, what better way for every gay male to end the New Year's week-end, than a performance of Mamma Mia ? Corb saw that it was playing at PPAC, and couldn't resist purchasing tickets.
So, a nice show, a nice meal afterwards...the only thing that marred an otherwise perfect evening was the sound of me muttering "They totally messed up the choreography" after Donna sings "The Winner Takes It All." Corb wouldn't talk to me for five minutes after that one...