I'm Tainted--ahhhhhhh

Sweet mother of God. Everytime we go to the Devilport, I am reminded of why we don't go there often. It's because the next day, I'm resigned to eating baked lays, salsa, and "Co-Cola's new energy drink." I've got a Warrior sized headache (going away now that I'm drinking my Co-Cola). Plus, at about 7 this morning, the Warrior took her revenge (something akin to Montezuma's revenge, if you get my drift). Still, an excellent way to celebrate the inaugural year of Warriorday. Here are highlights:

• The trip to Michaels the day before. It's like the poor white trash girl's Tiffany's. I quote Holly Golightly: "Well, when I get [the mean reds] the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!" Everyone was so nice in Michaels, and they even gave me 40% off of my purchase, even though I didn't have a coupon.
• Fried pickles and ranch dressing, dubbed "Warrior Spears"
• Glinda had a Guiness because it was "darksided." I had a 5th avenue because I wanted a 5th avenue; Chuck had a Manhattan (I guess our drinks could represent the East Coast where all the tainted people live); Twoshirts had iced tea (I'm starting to think that he is on the other side--LIGHTSIDED!)
• Discussion of firearms at dinner, just like any redneck family from Ponchatula Parish
• The unveiling of the official Warriorday t-shirts (Edgy's--Gorgyles!; Mine--Slykicks!; Glinda's--Tainted!; and Twoshirts got shafted because I accidentally bought the wrong size. Praxis, your iron on transfer will be in the mail soon).
• Wearing of such tshirts--Glinda in a crew neck--HA!
• Parking situation at Devilport--there is no parking. I don't know where we all parked.
• The menu--very little tainted material to work with. We had to get creative. Twoshirts had Barbie's Bathwater, a drink which he felt "shrunk [his] testicles to the size of [something, I don't remember]." Glinda and I had Pitbull in the SKYY because she is most definitely a Pitbull hovering above everyone. Chuck had Sex at Sunset, when he should've remembered her pithy saying at the radio station, "I promise you won't go blind." During this time, Praxis was fighting with the dryer and Beelzebounce.
• Watching fish porn on TV and screaming, "Get it, Nemo--UH!"
• Some guy from the Merc in NY who flipped his business card at us and begged us not to take his picture just so that we would take his picture. He represented the 15 minutes of fame that the Warrior should've had but that we keep dragging out for her.
• This part didn't happen last night, but I just have to wonder if Corpus Christi will erect a statue of the Warrior. Why, you ask? Because Corpus already has 3 statues in the main square, apparently: Columbus, Jesus, and Selena. Why not the Warrior? Her gap toothed smile and portruding boob would forever be cast in bronze.
• The pictures. ungodly. I'll leave you to Glinda for those.
• Second round of drinks: G--same; Me--Antarctic Blast (It was blue and made no reference to the Warrior, but it was tasty); Edgy--what did Edgy get? And Twoshirts left--LIGHTSIDED. Praxis inadvertently left, too, because both my phone and G's died. We will have to wait for his post.
• Second and a 1/2 round of drinks: Some Pentecostal looking woman came up and offered us an Apple Martini, which Edgy gulped down, the warrior that he is. She wanted 2 ciggies in return, so maybe she wasn't Pentecostal. I think she was a plant from the Warrior--a test of sorts. We turned her dorksided anyway. G and I split another Pitbull. This was bad because any ounce of liquor over 2 drinks in the Devilport is ungodly. [Minor tangent here: One night I was drinking a martini at the D, and Edgy wanted some. We asked for a rocks glass with very little ice. I poured him a full rocks glass of the toxin, and then looked back at my martini glass. It looked virtually untouched. That, my friends, is the power of the Devilport. Do not mock us for only having 2 1/2 drinks]
• discussion of Mary and priests and the This and the That. No moon, though.
• Final departure, with G inviting us over for some wine (good god, I would never have recovered)

Well, folks, Co-Cola did me right. That Vault drink did the trick, and I am "healed." Time to finish cleaning my house now.