...In Which Anthony Checks In Before He Checks Out...

Gah, slow net tonight...this morning...whichever...

140 miles down to San Diego for girlmod's B-Day party over at hexestarr's pad. Kim and Jen threw a great backyard party. Good times, lots of great peoples, a pinata filled with mini-liquor bottles (brilliant), three movies, the coolest freaking cake, and fire. Lots of fire.

A couple of highlights from the night:

A short episode of Fat Albert and the Cosby kids, featuring Bill Cosby and the bestest quote ever: If you dig it, do it! Damn, fat Albert sure can cook!

The short educational film on a Husband giving his Wife a breast exam. Who needs porn when you have educational films about how to properly look for second nipples disguised as acorns. A bunch of grown ass should be-adults lifting their right arm above their head in unison. It was glorious! Remember, kids, seperate the breast into quarters, and don't use circles.

*not* being the only black man at a party...that did not feature Clifton anywhere in the room. And John's just aces, so there ya go!

Being the only man in the room during a conversation about bras and sexy underwear. Thank god for all the Mary Janes being worn in the room. I wouldn't have known where to otherwise cast my eyes.

A running gag on Schmegma...yes, I wrote it, Schmegma.

The Coup De Grace: The woman of honor, basically catching herself on fire--So Chynna is carrying around the remains of the Pinata--the Donkey's Ass, as it were--and she's standing near the cake table...right next to the large votive candles with Our Lady of Guadalupe on them. I'm talking to her beau, Jon, about airsoft pellets or something and we look over and there is this flame coming from behind Chynna. Like Michael Jackson Pepsi Cola Commercial flame. And suddenly everyone is yelling "CHYNNA!" and she turns around like "what?" and realizes that she's pretty much on fire. Jon is over there in like one huge bound and they're tossing the Donkey's Flaming Ass over the other side of the lawn. At this point EVERYONE starts laughing their asses off. I'm not sure who came up with it, but she was given a nickname that must be used from time to time: FDA--Flaming Donkey Ass.

I'm thinking a band--Chynna's Flaming Donkey Ass.

Anyrate, flew up 805 to I-5 screaming along to Harry and the Potters (it's even more fun late at night and screaming your head off along with "Give It Up For Fred And George," when I came up on the little family crossing sign right after San Onofre, and then saw something out the corner of my eye running in front of my car. I nearly freaked, until I saw the HUGE RAT in my headlights. Remembering what I learned from that car crash with fajitas, don't break, don't swerve, hit the dog.

I did not hit the rat, but man, I don't need to see things running across the road after seeing signs with families running. Not when I'm fiending Rock Star Cola and have all the air blowing in my face doing 85-90 before the PAL station.

It took a bit longer to get to the 405, as I'd realized I was pusing 105 on the downhill, and decided it was better to back off on the skinny pedal before blasting through that part of the OC...405 to 710 to 91 (jeez I take a lot of freeways) home again, home again jiggety jig.

And look. There's those CD's from Amazon that I'd ordered a while ago...a replacement copy of Nouvelle Vague, and a spanking brand new copy of The Vanity Project.

Right. Now I'm going to take my sorry ass to bed. Becuase tomorrow shall prove to be a good, but looooong day.

Hee...Flaming Donkey Ass...