GUMBY REFLECTS ON THIS YEAR'S REUNION

Taxidermy, Umbrella's, Lesbians and Dr. Phil: a reunion that will live in infamy.

Let's start this out by saying words are worth a thousand pictures, and thank God we do not have any photos of what Tooth and I witnessed in Las Vegas on Tuesday, September 9. We were enjoying the usual butter hogs at Larry's Topless Villa (Pre reunion warm up - kind of like how the NFL has the pre season) when the fifth dancer that night walked on stage. Much like a bus load of nuns that went over a cliff on I 70 outside of St Louis this was a sight we didn't really want to look at but had to. In the middle of her first song, while her top was still holding in what ever minions from hell were lurking beneath I turned to Tooth and said, "She reminds me of someone." Tooth agreed she did have a familiar ugliness. It then dawned on both of us if you dressed Wooddog in a red teddy, put a blond wig on him, and unleashed him on a dingy stage in a smoky strip joint you would have this broad. Needless to say, as soon has her back was turned Tooth and I made a b-line for that door.

Earlier that day I picked Tooth up wearing a Moses costume I donned about two years earlier during a Halloween party. Tooth wasn't phased, but we did get some looks, especially when we were loudly talking about picking up some hookers.

Tooth and I embarked on our road trip to Chicago the next afternoon at 3 pm. It was pretty uneventful so I wont bore you jackballs with road stories. I drove to Nebraska; Tooth drove the rest of the way. When we hit the Iowa border we thought it would be fun to stop in Des Moines and pick up some of Roach's dad's cloths at a thrift store and wear them to the Cubs game on Friday. Let me tell you, there is no shortage of polyester in Iowa. The first place we stopped at in Des Moines both tooth and I hit pay dirt. I picked up a light blue sports jacket with burgundy pants, a polka dot tie, cowboy boots, urine yellow short sleeve shirt, and an old man straw hat for the amazing low price of $12.50. Tooth scored a crap blue jacket, gray slacks, pinstripe shirt and a tie that was not quite of this world. I think Tooth's wardrobe came to $8.50.

Oh, It is important to mention somewhere in Wyoming I bought one of those convenience store burritos and chased it with a convenience store breakfast burrito. Tooth and I were having a who can stink worse contest. Surprising enough, neither one of us let loose any bombs. Sort of like an alcoholic that needs a fifth to catch a buzz, we have abused our bodies so much over the years this grub didn't phase us.

Around 5 in the afternoon (Thursday night - it was a long road trip) Bonehead began calling us. We were still about four hours out of Chicago. It seems that he and Boozer were having difficulty hooking up. Then the calls from Roach began. The three of those losers were already in Chicago. Around 7 pm Boozer and Bone called again advising us they had found each other and asked us to hurry our journey as they had began drinking. I know it seems difficult to believe Boozer was actually drinking, but it was true.

By 8 pm Roach called and said he was suppose to meet them but had not been able to hook up yet. Minutes before we received a drunk call from Boozer and Bone saying they were suppose to meet Roach but blew him off. At 9 Bone called and simply uttered "I am fucking trashed." Oh, he also mentioned something about Boozer having a better chance at getting laid them him. Our litter Boozer is growing up. They were at some bar on Division and Rush so I called Roach and told him where they were. They finally hooked up.

By 10:30 Tooth and I finally arrived and actually had little trouble finding the bar they were at. This is now 29 hours into our road trip, and the both of us had about 2 hours sleep in the previous 48. We began drinking with our friends.

I must say, Bonehead was actually talking to a pretty good looking red head, but she then made the mistake of trying to get him to dance. You know Bone; he would rather put his dick in a dead raccoon than do that. Boozer, Roach, Tooth, and I tried to encourage Bonehead by chanting "Entertainment Now!" But that didn't work. She then sort of began blowing Bonehead off after Tooth told her (Sarah was her name) Bone was a former Priest, and I chimed in "and he is finally giving heterosexuality a try".

Oh yea, earlier that day we did get a call from BF who had just made his flight plans that morning. I agreed to pick him up at 7:30am Friday morning. Ha ha, I was 20 minutes late picking him up the next day. It is a good thing I did finally get him, fucker would have probably sued me.

BF and I had a lovely breakfast Friday morning (Tooth was still sleeping, I was able to get 5 hours of drunk sleep after being up for two days so you know I was fresh as a daisy) BF and I went back to the Hotel where Tooth and I got dressed in our special suits in preparation for the ball game. We were lucky enough to score some Vaseline hair tonic and Walgreen Spice (much nicer than old Spice). We each used a half bottle of both. Please see the photo. We looked like a couple of Dennis Phillips - on a good day. We were not at the hotel where everyone else was staying yet, we were a day early for our reservation. We took BF over to the Travel Lodge Downtown to get checked in but on the way decided to have the following business cards made up (something to pass around at the game):

We put a phone bogus phone number on the card which coincidently enough turned out to be Boneheads cell phone. Small world.

Tooth, BF, and I checked into the TravelLodge Downtown and Hooked up with Turds, Mrs. Turds, and Boozer. Bonehead was up getting ready so I went up to his room to surprise the stupid bastard. Boozer gave me a key to their room. Bonehead was somewhat amused to see me in my suit and greased down hair. He fell to his knees laughing, and could not stop. It kind of made me feel like Frank the first time he had to strip in PE. Each time Bone caught his breath he would glance up and lose it again. Finally after a few minutes he shouted at me to get out.

We told Roach we would meet him at a bar near Wrigley. The seven of us began our journey through the streets of Chicago, down to the L, and off to our Nation's pastime. Naturally Tooth and I had already downed some beers by now - 11am. On the L I made it a point to lean my Chief Wiley-style hair do up against the windows of the train. What a fine grease slick it made. Bonehead found this very amusing. Tooth and I began handing out our business cards to the commuters on the old red line. They were not amused.

The baseball game was kind of a blur, hopefully some other loser in attendance can write up some comments. All I can say is if you ever have the opportunity to wear what Tooth and I did I highly recommend it. Why, not once did we care that mustard was smeared across our jackets, and nacho cheese dripped down our ties.

There was a rain delay so I wandered down near the Cubs dugout and made friends with some fraternity geeks. I also took this opportunity to hand out some business cards to the WGN cameramen. They were amused.

Believe it or not, I was a little liquored up. At one point I remember eating peanuts and just letting the shells fall all over my drunk, rain soaked, greased-up body. The broad in front of me glanced over and could not help laugh. At least we made one person's day.

After the game we went back to the hotel and Tooth and I used about a bottle each of shampoo to clean our hair.

After we cleaned up the plan was to hook up with Speedy (aka Puds) and Roach. Roach was staying at some Roach hotel on the Magnificent Mile, and Puds was in some flea bag near the Tribune Building, about a mile or so from us. Puds booked at his room at a different hotel because each room came with plastic sheets. Puds told us to meet him at the Marriot in the lobby. BF, Boozer, Bone, me, Tooth, and Mr. and Mrs. Turds eventually met Puds. He was a little hard to find, he blended in with all the freaks at that dump. I finally found him at the end of the bar yakking it up with some big shot with some big software firm. I snuck up behind him and planted a big kiss on his cheek. Puds later confided that he felt his manhood stir when as I kissed him. Fag.

We sat around in the lobby and you guessed it, drank. Eventually Roach showed up with PD the Jew and we all went out to get some grub. I wanted pizza, BF (who still swears he ain't gay) wanted a nice steak complete with some fine red wine. This is, of course, BF's idea of a party. We ended up at Lowrey's Prime Rib house. This was the only time we talked politics during our four drunken days together. Naturally BF lost. Fag. After dinner I must say I whined about splitting the bill evenly, but that is my nature. In retrospect I should have kept my big mouth shut and simply enjoyed the company and meal. If I offended anyone, sorry. Oh wait, fuck you.

The group of us headed back over to the bar we were at the previous night, I think it was called The Bootlegger. It was not nearly as much fun, too loud, too crowded, none of us could talk. I tried to keep the table amused by having a mock conversation complete with hand gestures, and body language. That was fun for about a minute. After shots and beers we left. By now it was about 2 am. Boozer, Bonehead, Puds, and I wanted to walk back. We were pretty close to Washington Square (at least that is what I think it is called) which is a special place for Bonehead. This is the park where John Wayne Gacey cruised for many of his victims. Oh, before we left Bonehead found a nice scaffolding to piss under. Just like in San Francisco last year. He aint the sharpest knife in the drawer, but damn it, he's consistent.

Bonehead was very disappointed with the park, there were no Gay's cruising. In fact, the only person in the park was a bum who had the honor of watching me go wee wee.

The four of us headed back to our hotels. On the way we found out something very interesting about our good friend Puds. It seems he has some sort of sickness, a sickness that is way more fucked up than anything Bonehead has ever laid on us. We were crossing the river and about 20 feet down and 50 or so feet away sat one of those tour boats. It had three decks. It seemed empty but Puds noticed (as we stood there trying to encourage Bonehead to jump into the river) that there were three women on board. I think his words were, "What are those women doing?" Bone, Boozer, and I strained to see. The boat was not lit up, but is was very clear. I asked, "Do you mean on the second deck, inside."

"No, right there on top." You could hear the excitement in Puds' voice growing.

"What the fuck are you talking about? We don't see them." We chimed.

"Right there, right on top." Puds could barely contain himself.

I am not sure which one of us realized what he was talking about, it was probably Boozer, but sure enough Puds was referring to three umbrellas on the top deck. Now you have to understand there was no way any human being, not even one with Melvin Holmes eyesight, could have mistaken those umbrellas for human beings.

"Oh, those are umbrellas."

Needless to say, for the rest of the walk, any inanimate object Boozer, Bone and I came upon we had to hit on it for Puds. That is the way it went for the rest of the weekend. A little foreshadowing here, but you should have seen Puds on Sunday at the Aquarium, man oh man were there tons of people there with umbrellas. It was like seeing Bonehead in some sort of tranny bar.

That is pretty much how day two ended, drunk, and tired. The best was yet to come.

Day three started like day two ended, Puds was busy making time with an umbrella, Bonehead was having his way with Boozer in their room, and I woke up with a gooey substance in my hair. I don't have any idea what it could have been, but seeing how I was sharing a room with Tooth I knew it couldn't have been man juice, what with Tooth being impotent and all.

It was decided today we would make a visit to where it all began. Much like ground zero in an atomic blast this place is the impact zone in which all the fury from the stinking depths of the netherworld had been unleashed. Something had called us back, an urge that was more instinct than anything. Besides, Bonehead wanted to visit the old porn shops so we headed out to Great Lakes. Bone, Tooth, BF, and I drove in one car, Boozer, Roach, Speedy, and Turds in the second. You know, in retrospect I should have known this was going to suck. The highlight was Tooth mooning the other car, and some bum.

There are two things I remember from boot camp and A school. The first was mustering on the grinder at 5 am during service week, and how fucking miserably cold it was, and the second was Crazy Train being played on the juke box in the greasy spoon at snipe's castle. The place looked foreign to me.

The eight of us pulled up outside of the main gates where A school was and went inside the admin building to see if we could get on to the base. In the mean time I tried to take a photo and some geek fuck squid in fatigues advised me I could not take any photos. The theory was some terrorist would take advantage of naval A school with just the right photo. You know, after 15 years it is still "Mission Ridiculous."

BF took charge of the situation inside the building. He is one pushy bastard. After BF discussed the ins and outs of what we needed to do to get on base he reported back to us. In his best "Closing argument while defending some turd that raped a nun and murdered fifty little boys and girls" he told us we needed Proof of insurance, registration, and a valid driver's license. I had a rental and was advised I needed the rental agreement. Dumb fuck me left it back in the hotel room. That was the first thing to go wrong. Roach discovered the car he claimed to have borrowed from Ford did not have a valid insurance card, and the registration was expired. No wonder the Japs are still beating the shit out of us in the auto industry. Low and behold they gave Roach a visitor's pass anyway. So much for worrying about a fucking photo, terrorists could drive right on that base as long as they can fucking breath. I did not want to go through the aggravation of trying to get a pass so we all decided to pile into Roach's car and leave my car in the little parking area.

In the process of emptying the crap out of Roach's hatch and into my trunk someone mentioned all eight of us would probably get stopped at the gate due to the fact we all couldn't all wear seat belts. Roach said he would make two trips and we started shoveling the crap from my trunk back into Roach's hatch.

As I shut the trunk of my car I realized with great dismay the keys were still inside and the doors to the car were locked. Boozer and Tooth were standing next to me and I asked, "Did you guys see the keys?" Boozer proudly noted "Yea, they are in the trunk."

Now, don't get me wrong here, I am fully responsible for locking my keys in that car, but Jesus, you think that drunken bum would have maybe uttered just the slightest warning as I began to close the large metal covering to the compartment where spare tires and luggage usually go before forever entombing my keys in the abyss of carpet and rear lights. He did not. That was the second thing that went array.

I told them to go on in and I would work on getting my keys out. I figured, the Great Lakes Police have a dispatch station in the admin building where we got the visitors pass, I could get one of those guys to call someone with a slim jim or something. I was advised by three different folks that the guy with that equipment was off today, and he takes that crap home with him. Figures. Bunch of Barney Fifes working there. I then called AAA (of which I am a proud member) who told me it would be about 90 minutes. Fucking great. There wasn't even an out house where I could touch myself while I waited.

While waiting I fiddled around for a few minutes trying to get the keys out, typical stuff like whittling a tree branch down to a wedge and seeing if I could wedge the door open just enough to get something in the gap to hit the electric locks. Once this was accomplished it would be a simple pressing of the trunk release. Typical MacGyver stuff. None of it worked. A nice squid tried for several minutes to assist, bringing device after device to try to get it unlocked. It was of no use. After about an hour and a half I called AAA again who said it would be about another thirty to forty five minutes. By this time the rest of my loser buddies showed up. I explained why the cops could not help and good old BF opened his big fat mouth again, "Bullshit."

No sooner had BF finished advising me of grown male bovine feces a cop rolled up. BF asked if he had a slim jim and guess what? This Great Lakes police officer did have the necessary tool and had my door opened in less than a minute. I would just like to take this moment to tell the entire Great Lakes Police Force (with the exception of the officer that assisted us in getting the door open) to go fuck your incompetent selves. Being so close to a navy base has rubbed off!

The other losers regaled me with tales of running into chiefs and BF using is abrasive talents to get into the exchange to buy some crap, but I wasn't there so someone else is going to have to spin their take on the day.

The cop was cool, he shoved Roach and I in the back of his cruiser, the boys were able to snap some pretty nice shots. It was getting late in the afternoon so we decided to head back to our hotels, get freshened up, and hit the Chicago night. The day was going to get a whole hell of a lot better.

Tooth and I had a cooler full of beer in our room. I called down do Bonehead's room and asked if he wanted one. Naturally he did. Boozer and Bone's room was almost directly under ours so I tied my shoelaces together and lowered a beer from our window to his. Again, another MacGyver type move.

After getting fresh (with Tooth) the lot of us met in the lobby of our fine hotel. By the way it is important to note the two elevators at this 12 story building were about as fast as Pyle cleaning the CTG flats, or Clump whipping out the lube oil purifier daily PMS. Tooth and I were on the 12th floor, Boozer and Bone were on 11, and BF was on 10.

Mrs. Turds met up with us and we went to a local dive around the corner from our hotel to get a drink and discuss the plans for the evening. At the bar were Roach, Me, Tooth, Boozer, Bonehead, BF, Turds, Mrs. Turds, and Speedy. There were four customers in the bar when we wondered in at about 6 pm. Two women sitting at a table, and two men sitting at another table. We bellied up to the bar and ordered real man drinks. Beer (except for BF who feels beer is beneath him, he ordered vodka tonic. If we could re issue dopey names I would cast a vote to change BF's to Fraizer). We began to drink.

We began yaking it up with the two women behind the bar. Both had thick east European accents. I guessed Polish and Slovakian, but it turned out they were from two other crap can former East Block states. Anyhow, the big blond left leaving the little brunette at our mercy.

After a few moments our conversation turned to the women sitting at the table. By no means am I homophobic, but these two women made truck driving bull dykes look like Vegas hookers. They were very friendly, and we discovered one of them use to be in the navy. Both were tourists. After more drinks, and me mourning the loss of Johnny Cash one of the Lesbians asked me to dance. We cut quite a rug, and ended up on Wabash avenue dancing under the Chicago moon. See the photo.

Soon the twinges of hunger crept in so our focus turned to grub. Of course, once again BF suggested a rip-roaring time devouring a nice French dinner or something queer. I still wanted some Chicago deep dish and had the name of a place our bellman noted. We called and ordered four. God bless BF, he said dinner was on him. Our bar tender (see the photo of the dark haired chick) said it would be fine to order and bring them back to the bar, she even let us use the bar's phone to call the pizza joint. By now we were getting drunk and having a pretty good time in that little shithole.

Out of no where we received a call from Ateball. We started giving him shit for blowing off the reunion. He said he was going to load up the family and drive down right then and there. I thought he was full of crap, it was around 7 or 8 and he was about four hours away. We would see.

BF and I left to get the pies (the restaurant was about five blocks North from where we drank. True to his word BF made me pay. Actually, he picked up the tab and we carried back about 40 lbs of pizza.

When we got back there were new folks in the bar, all women. One of the girls looked like Ann Hesche, one was kind of heavy, one was plain, and one was pretty good looking. We shared the pizza with the two lesbians, the bar tender and the four new broads. That was the best fucking pizza I ever laid my teeth into. Remind me to tip that bellman next time I am in Chicago. Anyhow, everyone ate their fill and we still had one whole pizza left. That was when BF and I came up with the idea that it would be fun to watch Bonehead try to eat the last pizza by himself. These pizzas weighed about 10 lbs apiece, and Bone already ate two pieces, he would need incentive:

Gumby: "Hey Bonehead, BF and I will give you $100 if you eat this last pizza."

Bonehead: "$100.00?"

BF: "$100.00." Bonehead: "You got it."

BF and I laid down some ground rules, first the pie had to be eaten at the bar while we were all there. BF clarified that he could take as long as he wished as long as it was finished by the time we left the bar. Last call in Chicago is 4 am, he had plenty of time. Second, he could not throw up. Now, because there was the no puke clause in the deal we had to go on a Bonehead watch rotation. Every time he went to the can one of us had to follow him in. Bonehead began his quest, he started up that mountain.

The two lesbians hit the road but said they had a great time with us. I then noticed Boozer and Speeds were talking to the four new broads. I moseyed on over and began chatting it up as well. I was hoping perhaps our little Boozer would finally get himself some. Turns out we traded two lesbians for two lesbians. The Ann Hesche chick and the plain looking girl were a couple. The chubby woman and the cute woman were sisters. Turns out the attractive woman (I forgot her name so we will call her Esmerelda so you are not confused) was a lawyer. Well, we had to make BF prove to us he still likes chicks so we called BF over. BF was getting pretty liquored up by now. I went back to where Tooth and Roach sat and discovered the dark truth about our insect friend. He has a very sadistic side. He was buying double shots of Vodka and pouring them into BF's drink when BF wasn't watching. Now that's fucking funny!

Before you knew it I was dancing with the Esmerelda's sister. I was pretty lit too. Please see photos of Ann Hesche, Esmerelda, Plain Jane, and Esmerelda's sister Lucy.

Ate called back and gave us a status update, he said they were on the road and were about three hours out. I told him we didn't want any negros at our reunion, but he said he was coming anyway.

I checked in on Bone, he was two pieces down and moving consistently. The world around him was full of noise, dancing, commotion, yelling, drink dropping, song and more drink, yet he remained focused. He got up to take a leak I had the Bonehead watch so I followed him in. It was a pretty small bathroom, but still Frank could have opened a nice business in there. Bone began to relate a story in which he was in a club in Dallas and completely destroyed a men's room. He completely destroyed the toilet, sink, towel dispenser, typical Bonehead stuff. He had the gleam of a father speaking of his child's first step, and the same pride in his voice. He said everyone began using the women's room then, so he did the exact same thing to that bathroom then left. God bless that man. He didn't puke.

Right after that some more tourists wondered into our little bar. I greeted them with, "It's about time you got here!" They were three men, all wearing suits, and the tallest (and their leader) looked like Dr. Phil. By now we were all pretty plowed, including Ann Hesche, Esmerelda, Plain Jane, and Lucy. Meanwhile Bone was still making pretty good progress on that pizza. We were also taking turns dancing with Mrs. Turds.

I decided this would be a good time to regale the patrons, staff, and management of that little bar with the tale of Puds. I sat up on the bar and asked the bartender to lower the volume of the jukebox. "My children, my children, please listen closely to the legend of Puds!" I had everyone's attention and began to spin the story of how Puds got the name Puds. The story climaxed when I finished that Puds pissed himself, and the bar let out a cheer.

After that I thought it would be a good idea to take a group photo. I had them bunch together while I stood on a chair. I asked that the group move two steps to the left. There was a table one and a half steps to the left that toppled over, on the table was about eight drinks. The spill didn't phase the group (although Tooth shouted ÔSpill! Spill! Spill! I am the scene leader'). I then asked the group to move two steps to the right and snapped the photo. It is on the photo page. After the pond of booze was cleaned up we all began dancing again.

Dr. Phil and his buddies joined right into the fun and next thing you know we were all taking turns dancing with Dr. Phil. We got a super shot of BF in a loving embrace with him. Fag.

It was just about this time the word came in, Bone was throwing in the towel. He ate 6 of the ten pieces, (not counting the two he previously scarffed down) and was done. It was a valiant effort and we all owe Bone a debt of gratitude for his contribution. BF and I were pretty relieved we didn't have to cough up $50.00 each for the prize. Speaking of coughing up crap, Bone advised us he needed to throw up. There was no urgency in his voice, it was a rather nonchalant statement, "I have to throw this up."

The production team spun to life. Tooth, Roach, myself and Bone went to find the perfect alley for him to spew his guts in. Turds pleaded, "Take my camera!" Great idea! This had to be documented. Adjacent to our hotel was the perfect, dirty, dingy, dark, filthy alley. Bone searched and searched and found just the right spot to relieve the pressure that was building inside of him. His director instincts flashed into action an by God Cecil B Demille couldn't have done a finer job.

On the ground was a bottle in a paper sack, a dusty, greasy pipe, and lots of grime. It was the perfect location. Bone instructed me exactly how he wanted the photo taken, at what distance and angle. I wanted to take a couple of set up shots and suddenly realized Turds' camera was out of film.

"Stop everything!" I shouted, "I have to go get my camera.!!!!" My camera was twelve floors up sitting on my bed. I rushed up, got the camera, and headed back to the elevators. Remember, the elevators at this hotel were excruciatingly slow. Not knowing how long Bone would hold his chow I knew I had to take immediate actions. At the end of the hall was one of those old rickety fire escapes. I did the only thing a man in my position, and drunken state could have done and rushed to the emergency exit. It just so happened the fire escape was along side the building in the very alley Bone, Roach, and Tooth were waiting. I began shouting from the fire escape, "Hold on Bonehead, I am a coming!" Roach was confused, he wasn't sure where I was.

"Where are you!?"

"Right above you!"

I got to the last level of the fire escape, this last flight was spring-loaded. Apparently once you put your weight on the last flight it lowers to the ground. I was still about 12 feet up and as gingerly as possible began walking out on that old rusty thing. I got to the end and realized I should have been on the ground by now. I was still 12 feet up. The fucking escape was broken. My friends encouraged me to jump so that is exactly what I did. Hanging off the end I let myself go, landed, did a shoulder roll and popped right up. I felt like Starskey.

Bone then repositioned himself, jammed his hand halfway down his throat and up came supper. He did that about five times until his pipes were clean, and the purge was complete. We were proud. Someday Tooth will post those lovely photos.

We returned back to the bar with our tale and were welcomed as conquering hero's returning from battle.

Sometime during the night I wanted to get a photo behind the bar, the owner invited me back and let me pour some drinks. There is a photo of me, the owner of the bar, our bar tender, and Tooth.

It was about time to now preach the gospel that is Turds. I once again asked for silence while (seated high upon the bar) I preached how the name Turds came to be. One of Dr. Phil's buddies began chiming in so I politely said, "Settle down there Liberace."

Once the story of Turds was told we all began dancing again. Soon more tourists meandered into the gin joint we partied at. "It's about time you got here!" I shouted. They were two couples. I noticed them chatting with the bar tender then they walked out. BF and I followed them onto Walbash Ave.

"What's the problem?" I inquired, in disbelief someone wouldn't want to drink with a bar full if obnoxious drunks.

"They don't have Coors Light." said one of the men. I wanted to let this man know I understood his dilemma so I began flailing and crying "Wah, my pussy hurts! No Coors light, boo hoo!" I think this gentleman took offense to this little tirade so BF stepped in to calm the situation.

"Were you in the military?" BF inquired.

"Yea, I was in the Army."

"You army fag!" shouted BF. Yep, that really quieted that situation. The four of them said they were going to find another bar and left. BF and I stumbled back into our bar.

Boozer was making pretty good time with the lesbian couple, Speedy was spewing his liberal gibberish with Esmerelda, Turds was still trying to explain to his wife what really happened when he crapped himself while in the navy, Mrs. Turds was trying to figure out what the fuck she got herself into, Bone was getting the puke taste out of his mouth, Roach was hitting on Tooth hard, and I was dancing with Lucy. It was right around this time Roach bought us all shots and announced he had to leave. Roach was planning on driving home that night. I wasn't paying attention to what he was drinking throughout the evening, but I thought it was pretty stupid he was going to hit the road and face a 5-hour drive.

We toasted Roach, drank our shots, and Roach left.

About five minutes later Roach walked back into the bar. Cheering, Tooth and I put Roach up on our shoulders and carried him around that bar as if he just led the Lions to the Superbowl. Huh, the funny thing is, as drunk as Tooth and I were we didn't drop him. I guess that dope forgot something because he left right away. Roach, if you are reading this why did you come back?

A few minutes later that two couples that left earlier (the army fag) came back minus the army fag. We all welcomed them with open arms and asked what happened to their fourth party member. I guess that guy did turn out to be a pussy and went back to his hotel, the rest of them wanted to have some fun so they came back. I think they were from Ohio.

Pretty soon two more lesbians wondered in and I greeted them with the standard, "It's about time you got here!"

Some jackball played Meatloaf's "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" and the next thing you know Esmerelda and I were acting it out. We were jumping off chairs, falling to our knees, praying, and performing a perfect lip synch (not lip lock, although some of the lesbians were dancing some pretty sexually explicit dances). There are photos. At the time I was unable to perform my standard pull myself out of my body to watch the scene from a far so I will have to rely on a third party losers take on the song.

After that Tooth and I thought it would be a great idea if we hustled back to our room and change back into the suits we wore to the Cubs game. Upon our return we were greeted as if we brought back the head of Saddam. Next thing you know Lucy and I are dancing, all the losers break out in full-blown flail, and suddenly my shirt is ripped open. With buttons flying I stripped off my designer sports jacket (still covered with mustard and nacho cheese) straddled it and began what I imagined to be a pretty good strip tease. The owner of the bar was none too happy that I began to disrobe so he pulled me outside to have a little chat. It was cool, and I told him I totally understood and I didn't want him to get into any trouble with the local authorities. I sure hope he understood slur.

During this entire night, between these little recounts we all chatted with everyone, as if we were all part of one family, all strangers gathered together with a common blood line that was more Budweiser and Old Style than A negative. Everyone in that bar had a blast, laughter, drink, and bonding. There was a chemistry captured that can only happen once, perhaps twice in a lifetime. All who were there agree it was the single best night of any get together we have ever had.

Shortly after my striptease and lecture you will never guess who showed up? True to his word Ateball arrived with wife and daughters in tow. Tooth and I were a little worried, you know Ateball, man could fall asleep in 3 inched of water in a swap, here he was driving across Michigan and Indiana in the middle of the night. As near as I can guess it was about 2 am. Sometime before that Bonehead and BF had snuck away. Who can blame BF, I mean he was drinking triple shots in about every third drink. He haseth a new name and thy name is Juice Hound. Bone was simply spent. I am not sure if he had pizza poisoning or alcohol poisoning, the important thing is he was poisoned.

Tooth and I took Ate and his family over to our room and offered our beds for the night, we would bunk with Bonehead and Boozer. Earlier that day I set a wake up call for their room for 4 am. That little joke backfired. Actually, I don't think we were asleep by then. Anyway, we woke up Bone, tried to wake BF (he answered his door with eyes that were about as red Frank's ass after a good day of sodomy) and took Ate back to our bar. On the way the three folks from Ohio met us in the street. They were calling it a night. We chatted for a minute or two then suddenly from behind I felt a hand get hold of a hand full of my red polyester clad crotch. I thought it was Ate so I grabbed behind me and got a whole hand full if tit! It was the blond wife of the army fag. She had a good time, I had a fabulous time, so I ask who got hurt?

We also ran into Dr. Phil and the boys on our way out. We bid our sweet good byes and went back into the bar, which was now very quiet to have drinks with our tardy friend.

After an hour or so we decided to retire, Me, Boozer, Turds, Mrs. Turds, Speedy, Tooth, Bonehead and Ateball headed back to our hotel. Speedy had to take a cab to his fucking place, there was no way I was in any condition to drive. I was about three days from being in any type of condition to drive.

Really drunk and ready to get sodomized by Bonehead Tooth and I snuggled down in their room. How Tooth ended up in Bonehead's bed and Bonehead on the floor I don't know, all I know is I was very comfy on the couch.

Three hours later Speedy was running a race in Chicago and came in second. He is more of a man than any of us!