Friday
Julio called and we met him and Yo! Adrienne at Kyodai for dinner shortly after Cha arrived home from one of her umpteen gazillion projects (this one is designing with city school kids a large crab statue to be stationed somewhere in Baltimore for a year). We ate sushi, they for some reason gave us anniversary gifts, and then we went home to play Scrabble but instead ended up painting potent dyes onto large silk banners for Cha's Gay Pride/Green Party float. Julio, too cavalier with the brush, sloshed purple dye onto his gray slacks--we told him to remove them quickly so we could try to stop the stain, but he was apparently going "commando." I had to fetch him some of my own pants so he could change. Along the way we reminisced about many things, including Mee Yung, Julio's previous girlfriend, and how long it took Yo! Adrienne to get him out of her "clutches." I made Yo! Adrienne a mug of tea into which she promptly dipped her paintbrush; I made her another and she immediately did so again. The women sneered at Julio and I anytime our conversation trailed into the lofty abstract. They prefer talking about dicks and pussies.
Saturday
A graduation shin-dig at the Travellin' Joneses for E. who finished his Master's at Loyola. It's always fun to re-visit the old stomping grounds and more particularly to see the old crew. I had difficulties getting there, however--Falls Road at Gunpowder was shut down by a horrific head-on collision, so I had to backtrack to Mount Carmel Road and then take Prettyboy Dam to Rayville to Middletown only to find that Beckleysville was closed for repair--but my third alternate route worked, and it was a beautiful enough day that I didn't mind driving John Denver roads for an hour or so.
The big revelation was that Sluggo had shaved his nads bald because the Mrs. suggested he might want to tidy up down there, and she'd only wanted him to trim things, not eliminate them. This caused a riotous conversation and much ribbing; I had to side with Sluggo and noted that I was working with a clean playing field as well. Spooge Whore said "I don't like it--he looks like a six-year-old boy!" That, of course, has less to do with the fur than the equipment...At any rate this sordid chatter drove away several couples who are newer to the gang and whose tolerance for the blue was sorely tested.
All the young chilluns are by turns charming, mischievous, moody and brilliant. Rumor has it that at last a girl shall join the brood in two months.
Sunday
Daddy's Day and a trip up to Sis's for a cook-out. We played tackle football with the niece and nephew and the uncles for hours. I'm sore.
