Barkeep? Another Refill Over Here
*daintily throws up in a shirt pocket*
Yesterday, by the graciousness of our hosts, we drank something called a “fuzzy duck.” And when I say, “drank something,” what I really mean is, “drank many somethings.” I think we each had three, maybe four of those fuzzy ducks — which at alternate times were mistakenly referred to as fluffy ducks, fluzzy ducks, and fuffy ducks. It’s a horse-kick of a drink — it has rum, schnapps, gin, and a handful of other toothy boozers (though some recipes online have the drink as coconut rum and Bailey’s). It’s a sweet drink, too, and sweet drinks are a seductive danger. “These are like fruit punch! I’ll have seven! I’m so thirsty! Yum.”
We drank those in highball-size glasses.
Then we played Bocce ball.
And then, somewhere in the middle of that came the sangrias.
These were not in highball-size glasses.
These were in glasses, ohhh, let’s just say, “as big as a fat man’s arm.” That may be an exaggeration in retrospect, but needless to say we more than doubled the size of the prior drink, and had just as many.
Somewhere in there, we played more Bocce ball.
Also, a tree branch attacked my face.
Then food. Grilled salad. Local-caught scallops. Steak. And cupcakes.
Then, we taped up a cat.
It was that kind of night, is what I’m saying. A good day, a great time, thumbs-up, hurrah.
This morning, I’m not hungover.
But I am bleary. Weary. Winkin, blinkin, nod.
And I don’t know what to talk about over here. I’m at a loss. A big empty gulf of nuthin’ no-how nuh-uh. Which is where you come in.
Yesterday, I had many refills on drinks.
Today, I’d like many refills on blog topics.
(See how I tied that shit together? See how I moved from one topic into another? Smoothly? No turbulence on that transition? I’m a writer, motherbitches. It’s just how I do. It’s my job. *drops the mic*)
I’ll do this periodically, this thing where I ask you to help me come up with some Fresh Hot Bloggery to spackle across your eyes. Y’know, ’cause I’m a lazy shit, basically.
So, you tell me: what do you want me to blog about? Anything at all. Writing, boozing, gaming, bearding, philosophizing, pot-stirring, fooding. Whatever it is you want me to babble about, I wanna know. Get on the horn. Slide your greasy mitts down there to the keyboard and the comment box. Do it. Don’t make me blubber and sob. (“‘Blubber and Sob: Cop Team Of The New Millennium,’ coming soon to ABC television.”)