Birthday Flu

I know that nobody is perfect. Despite what others may think, I do not feel as if I am some part of an elitist network brought to this Earth to look down upon the "less fortunate." Doing so would mean that I have a vast amount of tangible wealth that I burn to warm my enema solution. This isn't the case and no matter what you read from this point on, please understand that I am not better than anyone else.

That being said, I took my son to a birthday party on Saturday. That in itself is nothing more than an activity, except if you were present when I pulled up, you may have thought otherwise. Aside from the lack of public roads on the way to this party, despite the primal nature of the house in which this party was located, along with the striking resemblance of the "Honey Boo Boo set" or the simple fact that the man who welcomed Jacob and I caused a flashback to the movie "Deliverance" minus the ass sex and squealing pig reference (although when we were leaving there was a guitar being played)...let's just say I almost got back in the car and backed out of the "driveway" and headed home.

My first red flag was the above described locale of this event. West Richland, in and of itself, is mostly visible traveling three roads...Van Giesen, Bombing Range Road and whatever road Enterprise Middle School is on. This road, the one in most Stephen King novels traveled just prior to the main character DYING, was paved although it resembled more of a walking path than a road. I saw more ravens and hookers than I did anything else. It was one car width wide and no lights to speak of. I figured once I reached the end of the road I was either going to (A) get ass raped by a grizzly bear or (B) see A, followed by a disembowelment/BBQ. To my surprise, neither happened and I pulled into the house from psycho.

I was greeted by a flannel, torn jeans and breath that caused my knees to buckle from the fumes. ACME Pest Control could hook this dude up to a hose and his exhales alone would kill a cock roach and as anyone from Nagasaki can tell you, that's not easy. Apparently I was in the right place because there was a house and a child there but nothing else. How comforting. There were no balloons or banners or other children. But of course, Mr. point three three should be taken at face value when he says "Jacob can go on in...all the women are in there getting things ready." Getting what ready? A boiling pot and a spit to roast my kid on? I was thankful that Jacob was up to date on his immunizations because I am pretty sure there was Hepatitis at this house.

I went to go inside the house and was asked to stay outside and "hang with the guys." I was offered a beer. I politely declined. "what are you, some sort of Republican pussy?" Hmmmmm....the list of responses was long:


- No, it's just 3PM and I am driving the heir to my massively large fortune around the greenbelt from hell and I need to maintain my focus.


- And compete with you? I don't stand a chance since you seem to have been drunk since 1982


- No, I haven't had Keystone Light since college when I could only afford shitty beer


- I need to keep my wits about me so I can avoid catching any STD's from your toilet


- I appreciate the offer but Moroni is watching


As opposed to the above I told him that, although I will most likely be voting Republican as the current political climate, as least as it pertained to my personal beliefs, warranted a change at the top of the political pyramid, however in reference to me being a pussy, I had to disagree as I clearly represented more of a dick than any sort of internal dwelling reproductive organ...but did inform him that he was entitled to his opinion. I am not sure which eye remained locked on my eye(s), but he sat down without saying another word.

All of the above happened between 2:55PM and 3:10PM. The party went from 3:00 to 5:00 and I can assure you that I watched the clock from 2:55 on. I texted my whereabouts to my wife and sister-in-law and told them if I did not return to the house by 5:15PM or were not able to be reached that the scene of the crime was no doubt going to be at the party's location.

My son will never spend the night here. Yes, their kid will most likely suffer because he will not have a lot of friends that are allowed to have a play date. Seriously, though...when I have to balance the likelihood my son will come back to me worse off than he was when he left to go "play," I have to draw the line somewhere. There were just too many sins going on in one house. It was one skank short of Moulin Rouge. Oddly enough, Jacob had a 102 degree fever on Sunday.


I wonder why?