Hung Over and Over It - Meet the Focker's
Well, after my episode of insanity the night before, I managed to pull my shit together for work the next day.
Friday, August 19th
This was the day that I was to fly to Colorado and begin the drunken festivities that are a prerequisite for my family at any social gathering. If I had a problem with hives, I would have an intense breakout every time I thought about my family, let alone have physical contact with them.
My mother and brother, Chester (yes, that is his REAL name... my mom liked the "ch" sound) came to pick me up. As soon as we start walking to the car, Chester gets in my spaghetti by telling me that I look too skinny and that I need to gain about 20 pounds.
Immediately, I want something cold, refreshing and alcoholic in my mouth.
I tell my brother to get off of my nut sack before I drip dirty ball sweat in his mouth. My attempt at shutting his mouth by grossing him out does not deter his efforts.
I also learn in the car that we are going to dinner with my other brother (and groom to be), the bride to be and the Focker's (the in-laws). I guess the Focker's have been waiting to meet me. What the hell does that mean?
We show up at the restaurant where the Focker's, groom and bride to be are already there and are sufficiently wasted (I would be too if I had to endure a shitty Rockies' game at 3:00 p.m.). I order two Miller Lites in a futile attempt to catch up. As usual, I slam the beers, but this time something is different.
I keep trying to get this big burp I have in my throat to come out. I'm sitting in the booth shaking my neck and head like a rooster. Already the Focker's are looking at me like I'm the kid who managed to get out of a locked closet. As it turns out, a burp was not trying to escape my stomach, but a large amount of beer foam.
I proceed to burp foam out my mouth and onto my clothing and the table for a good five seconds. Wow, talk about an awkward moment and who in the hell burps beer foam?!?. I immediately yell at the server and order a shot of tequila for me and my brother, the groom (I'm thinking right about now he needs it). Then I order two more shots for the both of us for good measure.
A little background on my brother, the groom. He is 34 years old, never been married and no kids. He is quite possibly the most tactless person I have ever met (yes, there's somebody worse than me). When I introduced my future husband to my family for the first time, he says, "Hey Martha, how did Donny's dick taste your mouth last night?" Oh, and my dad was in the conversation. This is only ONE instance in which my brother has caused me to feel utter humiliation and there are countless others no less embarrassing. But...pay backs are a bitch!
The dad Focker prods me for a little dirt on my brother, the groom. So, I tell them that my brother's balls are so big that he has a bra for them. Now I'm waiting for my brother's response. It should be something along the lines of, "At least my shit doesn't need padding." I wait and wait...nothing. He just sits there in the corner.
The flood gates proceed to open.
Before I know it, I'm telling my brother's future in-laws the time when he and his friend let me watch soft porn when I was 11 years old while they made a beer pyramid and when, at the urging of my brother, I screamed, "I want to have your baby!" to another one of his friends while he walked to receive his college diploma in front of 5,000 people (I think I was 13?). My poor father.
After taking a breath to reload my air supply, I realize that everyone is starring at me with their mouths wide open. I think Father Focker shit his pants. I hadn't even gotten to the really good stuff. Before I can continue my rant, my mother whispers, "Martha I don't think this is appropriate dinner conversation."
I respond by saying, "Yeah, and it was SO dinner appropriate when my brother (the groom) asked me if I spit or swallowed when I was in college."
I just had to take it to the next level and honestly, I feel no shame. Just to see my brother's face turn from red to purple will put a smile on my face for a long time.
And just think, I still had the bridal shower and B-Party the next day.
Friday, August 19th
This was the day that I was to fly to Colorado and begin the drunken festivities that are a prerequisite for my family at any social gathering. If I had a problem with hives, I would have an intense breakout every time I thought about my family, let alone have physical contact with them.
My mother and brother, Chester (yes, that is his REAL name... my mom liked the "ch" sound) came to pick me up. As soon as we start walking to the car, Chester gets in my spaghetti by telling me that I look too skinny and that I need to gain about 20 pounds.
Immediately, I want something cold, refreshing and alcoholic in my mouth.
I tell my brother to get off of my nut sack before I drip dirty ball sweat in his mouth. My attempt at shutting his mouth by grossing him out does not deter his efforts.
I also learn in the car that we are going to dinner with my other brother (and groom to be), the bride to be and the Focker's (the in-laws). I guess the Focker's have been waiting to meet me. What the hell does that mean?
We show up at the restaurant where the Focker's, groom and bride to be are already there and are sufficiently wasted (I would be too if I had to endure a shitty Rockies' game at 3:00 p.m.). I order two Miller Lites in a futile attempt to catch up. As usual, I slam the beers, but this time something is different.
I keep trying to get this big burp I have in my throat to come out. I'm sitting in the booth shaking my neck and head like a rooster. Already the Focker's are looking at me like I'm the kid who managed to get out of a locked closet. As it turns out, a burp was not trying to escape my stomach, but a large amount of beer foam.
I proceed to burp foam out my mouth and onto my clothing and the table for a good five seconds. Wow, talk about an awkward moment and who in the hell burps beer foam?!?. I immediately yell at the server and order a shot of tequila for me and my brother, the groom (I'm thinking right about now he needs it). Then I order two more shots for the both of us for good measure.
A little background on my brother, the groom. He is 34 years old, never been married and no kids. He is quite possibly the most tactless person I have ever met (yes, there's somebody worse than me). When I introduced my future husband to my family for the first time, he says, "Hey Martha, how did Donny's dick taste your mouth last night?" Oh, and my dad was in the conversation. This is only ONE instance in which my brother has caused me to feel utter humiliation and there are countless others no less embarrassing. But...pay backs are a bitch!
The dad Focker prods me for a little dirt on my brother, the groom. So, I tell them that my brother's balls are so big that he has a bra for them. Now I'm waiting for my brother's response. It should be something along the lines of, "At least my shit doesn't need padding." I wait and wait...nothing. He just sits there in the corner.
The flood gates proceed to open.
Before I know it, I'm telling my brother's future in-laws the time when he and his friend let me watch soft porn when I was 11 years old while they made a beer pyramid and when, at the urging of my brother, I screamed, "I want to have your baby!" to another one of his friends while he walked to receive his college diploma in front of 5,000 people (I think I was 13?). My poor father.
After taking a breath to reload my air supply, I realize that everyone is starring at me with their mouths wide open. I think Father Focker shit his pants. I hadn't even gotten to the really good stuff. Before I can continue my rant, my mother whispers, "Martha I don't think this is appropriate dinner conversation."
I respond by saying, "Yeah, and it was SO dinner appropriate when my brother (the groom) asked me if I spit or swallowed when I was in college."
I just had to take it to the next level and honestly, I feel no shame. Just to see my brother's face turn from red to purple will put a smile on my face for a long time.
And just think, I still had the bridal shower and B-Party the next day.
posted by Martha | 12:32 PM
1 Comments:
Holy shit dude, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time
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