The Birthday Party (and other much ilk)

For such a crap week last week, the weekend went pretty damned well. Friday we visited our Liberal Neighbors™, who were hosting a party for the Obama campaign. We stayed just long enough to note a campaign principle (Organize!, which I think is a fine principle) and nick a yard sign. Apparently, somebody came round and fucked up the only other Obama sign in the neighborhood (on the lawn of said Liberal Neighbors™), but nobody's messed with ours yet. We also went to Blue Koi for dumplings with zylch, crookedface, and curlysquirrel. We stayed there a bit longer, because, you know, they have extremely tasty dumplings.

Saturday night we hosted a Convention of Time Travelers, to which virtually everyone came in costume, and a lot of good friends sat around in my living room discussing competing theories of the nature of time and getting sodding drunk. This sort of party is definitely one of my sorts of parties. triadruid emerged from the costume closet dressed in an old military uniform (Marines) and introduced himself as Lt. Reynolds, attached to the USS Eldridge. He earns points for saying so, practically everyone else loses points for not getting the joke. Several of the time-travelers were researchers, and spent some portion of the evening studying each other. By the time we'd been at it for a couple of hours, we took a vote and decided that the space-time continuum was already fucked, and we might as well have another beer.

rampantfox brought a game called 'Time's Up!', in which you pair off into teams and try to get your partner to guess a historical or fictional character, at first with as many words as you like, then with one word, and then by means of charade. This is, in practice, a lot funnier than it sounds. I learned that some of my friends don't know the difference between Rasputin and Rumplestiltskin, that you can evoke the memory of Woodrow Wilson by yelling "Erection Man!", and that when triadruid describes John Dillinger, the first thing he'll say is "He was the gangster with the big cock", which is enough to make me think of John Dillinger, but apparently not anybody else. Discussion of the possible locations of Rasputin's and Dillinger's penises ensued.

Somehow, everyone got home all right, except for co-celebrant kaymyth, who crashed on the couch and went home in the morning. Also, after I went to bed, other people cleaned up! It barely looked like there was a party there at all. This is nothing short of miraculous. We were richer by a few left-behind items, but I think most of them have been returned, and we just have adammaker's goggles and kaymyth's fog machine.

Con prep continues; it looks like neither triadruid nor I will be forced to go to Con and wander around naked for lack of costume. I'm putting the finishing touches on Agatha Heterodyne and Her BFG, and he's got a few Green Arrow issues to work out, but other than that, we're good. Which is good, because we're leaving in two days.
( Still to do: )

The Birthday Party (and other much ilk)

For such a crap week last week, the weekend went pretty damned well. Friday we visited our Liberal Neighbors™, who were hosting a party for the Obama campaign. We stayed just long enough to note a campaign principle (Organize!, which I think is a fine principle) and nick a yard sign. Apparently, somebody came round and fucked up the only other Obama sign in the neighborhood (on the lawn of said Liberal Neighbors™), but nobody's messed with ours yet. We also went to Blue Koi for dumplings with zylch, crookedface, and curlysquirrel. We stayed there a bit longer, because, you know, they have extremely tasty dumplings.

Saturday night we hosted a Convention of Time Travelers, to which virtually everyone came in costume, and a lot of good friends sat around in my living room discussing competing theories of the nature of time and getting sodding drunk. This sort of party is definitely one of my sorts of parties. triadruid emerged from the costume closet dressed in an old military uniform (Marines) and introduced himself as Lt. Reynolds, attached to the USS Eldridge. He earns points for saying so, practically everyone else loses points for not getting the joke. Several of the time-travelers were researchers, and spent some portion of the evening studying each other. By the time we'd been at it for a couple of hours, we took a vote and decided that the space-time continuum was already fucked, and we might as well have another beer.

rampantfox brought a game called 'Time's Up!', in which you pair off into teams and try to get your partner to guess a historical or fictional character, at first with as many words as you like, then with one word, and then by means of charade. This is, in practice, a lot funnier than it sounds. I learned that some of my friends don't know the difference between Rasputin and Rumplestiltskin, that you can evoke the memory of Woodrow Wilson by yelling "Erection Man!", and that when triadruid describes John Dillinger, the first thing he'll say is "He was the gangster with the big cock", which is enough to make me think of John Dillinger, but apparently not anybody else. Discussion of the possible locations of Rasputin's and Dillinger's penises ensued.

Somehow, everyone got home all right, except for co-celebrant kaymyth, who crashed on the couch and went home in the morning. Also, after I went to bed, other people cleaned up! It barely looked like there was a party there at all. This is nothing short of miraculous. We were richer by a few left-behind items, but I think most of them have been returned, and we just have adammaker's goggles and kaymyth's fog machine.

Con prep continues; it looks like neither triadruid nor I will be forced to go to Con and wander around naked for lack of costume. I'm putting the finishing touches on Agatha Heterodyne and Her BFG, and he's got a few Green Arrow issues to work out, but other than that, we're good. Which is good, because we're leaving in two days.
( Still to do: )