The Weekend Wrap-Up

So after calling into work Friday morning, stating that I was coming down with a flesh eating bacteria, the sniffles and a fever, my weekend had officially begun.

I showered, watched the news and then headed out for a cappuccino and a dozen donuts (starve a cold, feed a fever). Three hours later, the sugar had worn off and I found myself waking up in a ditch with donut glaze in my hair and the Krispy Kreme logo tattooed on my ass.

I crawled out of the ditch and into the nearest Stop N' Go, where I bought a farting pig key chain, a No Fat Chicks trucker cap, a Reggae Fever CD and a Slurpee. Anxious to show my purchases to someone who could appreciate their worth, I headed over to my friend Paula's house. I found her in the front yard burying a body. After explaining to her that it's usually best to do this sort of thing in the neighbor's yard, under the cover of night, she pointed out that the skeleton bones were plastic and part of a Halloween display. I offered to help her but she declined stating that she was almost finished. However, she would appreciate my assistance with a little matter in the neighbor's yard... after dark.

After we played with my key chain for a bit, we decided to hit one of the costume shops in town. We spent the next few hours modeling every hat, wig and prop in the place. And... ummm... to the nerd in the Flash costume, we're sorry. No, not really.

Paula's costume:


And mine:



Saturday

Pulled my donut endorsed ass out of bed to drive to Palatka and go boating with Dwayne and his family.


We traveled the St.Johns up through Dunns Creek and out to Crescent Lake. On the way back through, we docked at Corky Bell's for some lunch.

Now it may come as quite the shock, but I tend to be a bit "difficult" on occasion. And one of those occasions is when I order food at a restaurant. I'm a very picky eater and if the food is not prepared just so, I won't touch it. And oddly enough, I won't return a dish to the kitchen either. I have a fear of what the staff will do to my entree once they hear of my displeasure. But seriously, when a diner makes the following statement: "I like my fish dry. When you've cooked it to the point that you feel it's lost all moisture, cook it 10 minutes more." don't just roll the Incredible Mr. Limpet into cornmeal and then toss him on my plate! Deep fry his bespectacled fishy behind to the point that a dust cloud poofs out when I take a bite.


Sunday

I woke up this morning on the floor, still wearing my devil horns, surrounded by empty candy wrappers. Last thing I remember from the night before was my holding a full bowl of Halloween candy and hearing the doorbell ring. I don't recall ever answering the passive aggressive threat from the Trick or Treater's outside. Nor do I know what happened to the metric ton of Hershey's Miniatures that were in the bowl. However, I strongly believe all these empty wrappers may hold the clue.