Devil nights! Devil nights! Nights with the devil, driving around the city!

November 5, 2009 22 Comments read Uncategorized

On Friday, Justin and J had a party for a few purposes:

1. It was Devil’s Night and thus basically a pre-funk Halloween 2. They wanted to keep their house from being arsoned 3. They wanted to get their rat bastard arsonist friends off the street 4. Oh yeah, and Justin was turning 30 or something

Since it was a Devil’s Night party, it was requested that we dress up as the devil or one of his minions; my Halloween costume not yet complete, I didn’t have time to put together anything else, so I slapped on some clay horns, red eyeshadow, and the reddest, glitteriest lips EVER and called it a costume. The glitterlips were a mistake; no matter how cool I thought it looked at home, I was nervous all night about it getting onto my teeth as I talked and drank so I spent about a third of the night obsessively licking my teeth which I’m sure looks about as attractive as it sounds. I was apparently not so concerned about the look AFTERWARD as when I got home, I passed out on the couch within ten minutes of my arrival in full makeup and woke up with so much glitter in my mouth that it appeared overnight I had changed into a hobo costume with a bad case of red glitter gingivitis. When it comes to glitter, I’m bad at learning my lesson.

Justin had dressed up as the Morning Star; we contemplated adding a flaming sword of vengeance to his costume but figured that since part of the point of the party was NOT to burn down the house, playing with fire and booze would probably not be one of the wiser courses of action.

Speaking of wiser courses of action and booze, one of the party guests had pretty well overimbibed by the time I arrived and kept drinking; I was chatting with someone else and we both looked up right at the precise moment that it was deemed prudent that we drag Drunky McDrunkerson outside IMMEDIATELY, who rewarded us by hurling in the bushes bare seconds after we got him on the porch. This guy was in a whole new league of drunk–he sat outside on the porch for nearly the rest of the evening, alternating drinking water and vomiting. At one point, we called a cab for him and the cab driver refused to take him since he couldn’t walk unassisted. At some other point, he crapped his pants but was still too drunk to notice.

…I think I’m getting too old for this sort of party.

J had some super-awesome horns and wore furry pants which gave her the illusion of goat legs, and Deq turned her star tattoos into pentagrams and the whole thing was quite impressive and made me feel a bit ashamed of my hobomouth and horns combo.

All in all, it was a good time hanging with some folks I hadn’t seen in a while, Justin successfully turned 30 AND managed to avoid burning down the house, so it was a win on all counts.

Particularly since I didn’t have to be involved in the clean-up process, which I hear involved rubber gloves.

Tiny Pony Powers

November 4, 2009 72 Comments read Uncategorized

Yesterday, whilst I was at the grocery store, I decided I ought to pick up the pinata I need for Saturday’s Chicken & Porn shindig (Yes, the grocery store I shop at also sells pinatas because obviously I am a classy lass and only shop at the very best of stores). The problem was that they are stored way up high and the only way to reach them is to locate an employee (this runs about even odds with me waking up one morning and tripping over the Hope diamond sitting on the floor of my bedroom) or scale a lot of shelving that doesn’t seem all that sturdy.

The third option is to be Mellzah. I just stand there, all pocket-size, and stamp my tiny hoof and look at the thing I want that’s much too high to reach, perhaps emit a little huff with my lower lip stuck out, and always, ALWAYS some dude will wander by who is more than happy to clamber up a bunch of rickety shelving or scale a virtual Everest of boxes to grab me the thing I want that’s at the very tippy top so that I don’t have to endanger myself in the slightest OR engage in any physical activity.

I think this is related to my ability to be pulled over for a number of ticketable driving offenses (almost hitting a homeless guy dressed in all black who leaped out in front of my car on Cap Hill during a downpour, blown out headlights, turned OFF headlights, cutting someone off (truthfully, I don’t think that was my fault since the jackalope wouldn’t let me merge and it was either cut him off or be run into a guardrail), plates expired for over six months) and I have NEVER gotten a ticket.

I will likely die of starvation within a week of the time women take over and I can no longer use my hoof-stamping mane-tossing tiny pony powers to get what I want.

Pumpkin Stabbing Five Times Fabulous

October 28, 2009 36 Comments read Uncategorized

Sunday was the fifth annual pumpkin stabbing at Casa de Dildarian; Saturday was lost entirely to prep work. If you would have told me beforehand that I’d be up until 3am scraping jalepenos and handpainting details on gelatinous eyeballs with food coloring and a tiny brush while watching 21 Jump Street, I’d have called you a stinking liar. The next day, I would have been far too tired to apologize.

You see, I believe in feeding people when they come over for an event. Not feeding them WELL, necessarily, and by well, I mean healthily, but feeding them theme food. It is important that I stuff as much theme as possible into my guests. I couldn’t say exactly WHY it is important to me. It just is. And it is not nearly as important to other people to provide concrete RSVPs, so I had to prepare theme food to feed between nine and twenty-one people. NINE AND TWENTY-ONE. That’s sort of a gap. Sort of a significant gap. So I spent all day Saturday prepping a LOT of food:

-Caramel apples (I know now why they cost so much in stores; they must have a ‘danger’ surcharge tacked onto each one because hot caramel hurts a lot when it splatters on your skin. A LOT.) (PS I have a ton of vanilla beans left over from a different food project and so I scraped some vanilla caviar into the caramel sauce and it made it about twelve different kinds of amazing.) -Fresh grated pumpkin cupcakes -Witch finger shortbread cookies -Decayed corpse chips & Sweet and Hot Pepper Salsa (This stuff is like salsa crack. Last year, people practically licked out the bowl.) -Freshly flayed flesh jalepeno poppers -Mummy dearest dogs (also known as cuter pigs in blankets) -Beastly brie en croute with a puff pastry spider on top -Roasted squash & garlic dip -Gelatinous eyeballs -Blood & Guts sammiches (turkey & cranberry on croissants) -Butterbeer -Hot cider You can tell I ran out of steam right about the time I said ‘fuck it’ and used teacups to make two giant eyeballs instead of carefully refilling the truffle trays with a turkey baster, waiting a few hours, and painting more irises.

Anne and Jim ended up begging out of the pumpkin patch portion of the day, owing to the Steeler’s game, and Aisling needed to work up the energy to get out of bed as she was getting over feeling sick. So I met up with Tristan, Eric, and Jessica at the patch to go corn-mazing and pick pumpkins. The two mazes this year were shaped like a werewolf and a tombstone, respectively–on the werewolf maze, we decided that we would test the method of taking all lefts to see if that worked to get through the maze. We missed all but one of the punch stations, but sure enough, left-ed our way out of there. On the tombstone maze, we decided to utilize the map to reach all of the punchstations; after we reached the last station, Tristan decided we ought to put our maps away and try to find our way out without them, which resulted in us ending up walking past two punchstations we’d done already and eventually having to pull out the maps in shame. It really wouldn’t be a party without shame involved in some fashion.

Afterward, we picked out our pumpkins and drove back to my place so I could begin the process of stuffing everyone full of fun to the gills. If they did not have gills already, it was extra handy to have all of the carving tools nearby.

Aisling made what Jim dubbed a ‘Jap-o-Lantern’. Yes. We ARE going to hell. If you laughed, you’re coming with us.

I dressed Napoleon up in his jack-o-lantern doggy t-shirt, which is irresistably cute. Anne attempted to call him over to her, but he refused to walk on the plastic dropcloth, so all we ended up with was photographic evidence of a little more shame.

This year, I ended up using a pattern because my creative juices were on empty. I also fail at taking photographs of the day, and I blame exhaustion because I myself remain blameless.

Napodog was zonked out, too; he’d had a big day of sniffing and licking and freaking out near the front door and shameless begging and stealing Aisling’s turkey sandwich and gobbling the whole thing in one bite.