I have taken a break from the Facebook due to an overwhelming deluge of politicalness. I just don’t care what any of my “friends” think about either side of anything. I am on that thing to spy on your life and to read between the lines of the perfection you chose to share so enough with the here’s why my side is right bullshit. I had some time to kill because I decided to not attend the first day of hitting in full pads at the high school. Some of my friends were going but the boy didn’t seem to want me there and he did me a solid earlier in the week but more on that later. Anyhow, I’m on the bookface and came across a particularly annoying post from one of my most screwed up high school friends.
It would seem that this guy has found his lord and savior granting him moral high ground that could never have been predicted by his earlier behavior. There are hundreds of stories from him yelling out an open car window “F*CK HER! I DID.” as we pulled up to a red light where he proceeded to block a half dozen punches with his face to taking speed before football practice and dominating warmups and drills before crashing an hour in and having to sit out. Almost every day of two-a-days. But none of the stories were much better than the one that immediately jumped into my skull upon reading his little political morality sermon.
This idiot got so hammered at a mutual friends wedding that he wrestled the microphone away from the singer in the band so he could make an unscheduled toast. He proceeded to get the bride and grooms names wrong and pepper the thing with an impressive bouquet of swear words and inappropriate storytelling before the mother of the groom demanded that we remove him from the stage. The night just got bumpier from there. He wanted to fight all of us, his own fiance at the time took a couple of hard shoves, a bartender was struck for trying to refuse him service, just an all around shit show. So we find ourselves in the family suite after the wedding as we helped carry everything that was going home with my friend’s mom the next day. The idiot I am talking about was finally passed out in a chair but no one was happy with his earlier performance.
One of the things we carried up to the room was all of the leftover wedding cake in little single serve decorative baggie things. My buddies mom unwrapped one and smashed it in the hair of the passed out asshat. He did not stir and from that point it was on. We packed his ears first making sure to get that frosting all the way down both canals. Next up were his eyes that we spackled in the closed position. I should point out that I am only discussing the surgical parts of this operation that I shared with one other culprit as everyone else was having a great time putting cake in his suit and in his shoes then putting them back on his feet etc. His snoring indicated that he was already congested so we crammed a shocking amount of cake up his nostrils. The change in pressure as his sinus cavity filled must have triggered some lizard brain survival instinct because what happened next was awesome.
He woke up disoriented unable to hear, see, or breathe right and with no sensory input he began to scream. He got up and was trying to move around knocking thing over in the process. Like a giant Helen Keller Frankenstein Monster. He was flailing toward the pile of wedding gifts so the groom gave him a hard shove in the other direction and he went down. Things get spotty here as I was laughing so hard my breath was failing me but I do remember his girl trying to wipe the frosting from his eyes and getting covered in mess for her trouble. We finally jumped on and held him down wild gator style taking four of us if memory serves. He was wiped down so sight was restored at least and then led to his room for an in suit shower.
We left the room laughing with the girl screaming at us and the next morning at breakfast she couldn’t even look our direction. It didn’t help that he was talking really loudly and we were pretending to speak at normal levels but whispering. A week later he went to a doctor for some professional cleaning assistance. It turns out that frosting doesn’t just flow out of your ears like pool water. So preach on preacher and thank you for the stroll down memory lane.