1. No matter how drunk I get, I must remember that I never have been, nor will I ever be "Baby" from
2. No matter how drunk I get, I will NEVER try doing the Bachata on concrete....barefoot...again.
Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
(Works wonders on those pesky calluses, though.)
3. As gawd is my witness, I. will. NEVER. drink. beer. again. Ever. I mean it.
Whatta hoot! I think. From what I remember, anyway. Thank gawd there was no bowl of fruit handy...I'd have been compelled to put in on my head and do my best Carmen Miranda imitation. Which would have been just, plain....wrong. On so many levels.
Fruit or no fruit, Ziggy and pal K did their own little version of a Carmen Miranda 'table dance'.
The remaining two members of the "Sinister Six-some", J and J, tried not to let our insanity rub off on 'em. They might just have a little more...ah....couth than we do.
Now, before I continue, let me just stress that all six of us have both feet firmly planted in that horrible thing called 'middle age'. But, for some reason, when we all get together, we just seem to bring out the...juvenile...in all of us. Of course, some show their juvenility (if that's not a word, it should be) a little more than others. And then there are those rare few who show a little more than their juvenility.
Ahem.
I swear, officer....I don't know WHO those ass cheeks belong to!
(Can they really dust for ass-cheek prints?)
Oh, and this was before the party really started. You see, since none of us had a car that would hold all of us comfortably, we decided to take two up to the River Beach Pub for a burger before heading down to the Riverfront for the Mambo Jam. Girls in one, boys in the other. And...well...boys will be boys, ya know. I'm sooooo thankful that we snagged the convertible. Otherwise, we could have very well spent the evening chatting up a local bail bondsman instead of Marengue-ing the night away.
Of course, this particular little stunt was in retaliation for an earlier 'flash' by the girls. I'm not postin that little photo, though.
We did pretty much behave ourselves during dinner. Well. Except for the female J knocking down those two old ladies and pushing the old gurn in the wheelchair out into the road in her haste to snag us an outside table.
Gotta give her credit, though. She did holler "Sorry!" to the old gurn as his wheelchair tumbled over the embankment on the way to the river. Oh, and she did call 911 to report that one old lady's broken hip. Toldja she had a little more couth than the rest of us do.
All seriousness aside, (and belive me...there was NO 'seriousness' happenin...none at all) we had a blast. The weather couldn't have been more perfect. The company couldn't have been more fun. The beer couldn't have tasted better. And the music couldn't have been hotter.
The hangover, however...well...to tell ya the truth, I could have done without that just fine. Fortunately, I was the only one out of the 'Sinister Six' that seemed to be a bit...under the weather.
Guess I deserved it, though.
Singing to self:
Her name was Lola
She was a showgirl
At the hottest spot south of Havana.....
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