Friday, July 21, 2006


Disclaimer: the following story is based in fact. The way it is The names of the participants have not been changed, since in most cases, they ain't their real names anyway. In such cases as the real name is used, tough noogies: since they plaster their real name all over the 'Net on a blog, it figures they WANT to be known. The locations, times, characterizations, summations, impressions, temperature readouts, barometric pressures and last proctological exam results are not all necessarily agreed to by those who attended, witnessed, or complained about the noise level therein/from, tho' the location and times are hard to deny, even for a misconstrued politician. If any of them want to publish their last proctological exam results, that's their business...ack. The author of this hyar blog is not responsible for assumptions, opinions, interpretations, potholes, audible flatulence, stupid voters, bird droppings, Tex-Mex gone gastrically postal, pet badgers, wayward Katushya rockets or any other single/married/divorced/married-n-cheating opinions that digress from his own, if such is in fact at odds with that expressed herein heretofore or anytime up to midnight-thirty. Hiring a lawyer to understand this disclaimer is discretionary, and personally considered to be a waste of time and dinero. Beyond that, whoever fed the mogwi after midnight is responsible for Gizmo's ca-ca. Call them, not moi.

Now that the legal mumbo-jumbo is out of the way...

I'm the last to weigh in on this, but won't go so far as to suggest the best was saved for last. A blogger assemblage was recently held in Denver, CO. It took place on Saturday, July 15, at what was formerly a well-known, long-established eat-n-drinkery in the 'LoDo' part of downtown Denver. Having been that night redesignated the 'Wyncompoop' by Karen, it perhaps contributes to what happened with the tab later on, but I digress.

In attendance: Gunsmoke & friend; FTS; Karen; Houla Doula & friend; Kira; Genuine & keeper; Mile High Diva & friend; and yours truly. Herb, Abby Normal, and Monica were invited but wound up as unable-to-show co-conspirators, which explains why the talk of swinging from the unswung-from chandeliers remained just talk; "The Good One" wasn't there to lead the charge.

Gunsmoke -- improbably named for a street and/or TV-western, and vaguely resembling Chester from that series, without talking like him -- haled from Scotland. He professed no acquaintance with Mr. Scott, but a love of adventure, travels, run-ins with US border yahoos and dark, frothy brews that made Coors resemble panther piss. More or less.

FTS -- an engineer-turned competitive ballroom dancer-turned hair dressing instructor to the estrogen based life forms of the 3rd rock from the Sun, because he can't make up his mind what he wants to do when he grows up -- was a refugee, having fled the meteorological persecution and stupid recruiting of the dark-sided Jerry Jones Empire in the former sovereign Republic of Tejas. Having endured all that mortal Man can stand -- summers in Dallas and having to cross that eyesore of the Midwest, Kansas -- he wallows in the sheer delight of 0% humidity in Denver, and dreams of building a John Denver shrine in Aspen, while casting Rolos to the delicate, easily bribed masses of estrogen life forms who crave a perm, frost and a blow-dry.

For their hair.

Karen -- having momentarily forsaken the Land of Marital Insanity (a man with multiple wives? Now THAT'S insanity) and Large Bodies Of Really Briny Aqua -- was in the company of the Hula Doula duet, who discoursed at length on recent travels through Mittel Europa, and the havoc they intended for Colorado Springs the next day. It didn't matter that NORAD was alerted. These were forces beyond the realm of your average NORAD mind and defenses to grasp.

Kira -- newlywed, lover of her young lads and writer of all things that somehow bind the universe to those things young laddish -- was engaged in conversations of unknown breadth and scope, between Houla Doula and the limitless-patienced Mrs. Genuine.

Meantime, Mr. Genuine -- into things like insurance, blogs, and maintenance (at least this evening) of his Wyncompoop pharmaceutical prescription on the rocks -- revealed to one and all that before long, he'd be adding optometry to his diverse resume. Either that, or he was working on landing a part in Pirates of the Caribbean III -- ARGH!, as he kept covering one eye during conversation. Guess it helped him see what he was saying as the evening wore on...

And there was Mile High Diva and friend. A personable, pleasant and very feminine sort, one would never have guessed that MHD had once been a USMC MP. When this was revealed, a moment of skepticism swept the table, which was quickly squelched when MHD jumped up, and in classic Parris Island DI fashion, belted out a terse "alright you goat smelling egg sucking pissants, DROP AND GIVE ME TWENTY!"

Even the bartenders in the next room complied with the urgency of a thoroughly cowed recruit.

I suspect that this might have led to the Wyncompoop staff closing our side room door; either that, or when FTS chose to make use of the alcohol reclamation facilities on property, he decided to demonstrate the 'Rolo Effect': he took a handful of Rolos from his pocket, and in a sweeping motion, scattered them throughout the bar. Every estrogen-based life form in the bar deftly caught them in mid-flight, and resumed whatever they'd been engaged in, while their testosteronal-based dates sat and stared in slack-jawed amazement.

Not a Rolo hit the floor.

Granted, all was not sweetness and light: FTS bemoaned the fact that while he was pleased to be reveling in humidity-free Colorado, his brought-along supply of true Tex-Mex hot sauce was rapidly depleting. He'd counted on The Good One to deliver him a resupply.

He can still contact Buckley AFB and see about some residual napalm, as a filler.

Bottom line, a reasonably good time was had by all. The Wyncompoop -- apart from the impromptu rechristening -- survived in relative tact. No one was arrested, even when Genuine went on an impromptu boob symposium toward evenings' end, one eye and all. News reports (and the lack thereof) indicate that all have resumed their normal lives.

Perhaps because The Good One wasn't there to do the chandelier.

And that's the way it was, July 15, 2006. Cross my tail and hope to spray. And with a name like Skunkfeathers, you know that some part of this account actually happened.

For anything else, see opening Disclaimer.


Blogger Monica said...

You just SO WISH I had been really wanted to see if Rolos could be caught from a chandelier.

21 July, 2006 15:53  
Blogger Skunkfeathers said...

Monica: you're right ;)

21 July, 2006 16:20  
Anonymous cyndy-milehighdiva said...

Listen here you maggot...if you ever even look me in the mascara coated eye again, I'll chew my lipgloss up and spit on you.

Why I nevah....tsk could you even think that lil ole me could talk like that.....

Great post, Skunk! :)

21 July, 2006 20:50  
Blogger FTS said...

Yes ma'am-sir-ma'am

I just dropped and did twenty after reading Cindy's comment... though I'm not sure why...

22 July, 2006 21:08  
Blogger Herb said...

Well, sounds like I missed out on a lot. Maybe next time we could have one of these in a McDonalds with a playland...

23 July, 2006 06:57  
Blogger poopie said...

Yikes..I just hit the floor too. Sounds like y'all have a great time. Wish I could've been a rolo on the wall.

23 July, 2006 09:37  
Blogger Raggedy said...

What a great post!
It sure sounds like y'all had a great time!
What fun!
Have a wonderful day!
(=':'=) meow hugs
(")_ (")Š from da Raggedy one

23 July, 2006 11:44  
Blogger Karen said...

Poor Hula Hubby had to put up with Hula and me giggling and cracking jokes. This past weekend, I think we may have made him blush more than he had before in his life. Our mission is complete. LOL

Great post, I cracked up through the whole thing.

23 July, 2006 19:27  
Anonymous abbynormal said...

Since I didn't make "the event of the century", I'm having to settle with living it vicariously through these postings of those who did!

At least I'm not on Wyncompoop's most wanted!

25 July, 2006 13:16  
Blogger Skunkfeathers said...

Abbynormal: true, you're not. But as often as I go to downtown Denver(roughly once a decade), I have the statute of limitations on my side...

25 July, 2006 21:21  
Anonymous Hula Doula said...

My husband just sat across from his brother and shook his head. He so doesn't get bloggin!! LOLOLOLOL

01 August, 2006 16:42  

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