Rating: Granny
“I can’t pull my pants down without thinking of you*,” I say to Swears & Drinks this morning. When we catch our breath, S&D’s says “When you [do something really publicly known] I am putting a hit man on you. They will find this blog and it will be on the news and they will know who your friends are!”
I pulled into S&D’s home town last evening and we hit the bar. What follows are minor episodes we wish to recall…
Swears & Drinks: Why is it when we had the body, we didn’t know what to do with it? Oh man, now that I know I would pay money to have the body. What happened to us? Okay, two years, let’s hit a Trace Adkins concert. Let’s put the kids in school and work out all day.
Cheap Sweet Wine: So we didn’t get to shake our ass on the hood of White Snake’s car… Trace Adkins 2008 baby.
*Okay, there is a story behind this. It involves pants, stretch marks and hooking a long fingernail into one, drawing blood. Really, that’s enough said.
S&D: The other morning, I was so ready. I was so ready it was a good thing I had nothing requiring batteries. I was thinking “Cheap Sweet Wine so needs to be here right now; I am so ready.” As I looked on in horror which devolved into laughter, I grabbed her pointed index finger and said, “Did you hear what you just said?!? Out loud?”
She gasps through the tears, “I can’t open my mouth when I’m around you. Brazilian! I am so ready for the Brazilian!”
We were drinking martinis this night: Sour Apple and an Almond Joy. It would seem that S&D’s gastric enjoyment extends beyond Indian.
“Potent cherry,” she sighs while pulling the stem from her lips.
Cheap Sweet Wine: I finally finished The Red Tent. If I hadn’t thought it was worth it, the last few pages made the book. It was beautiful. It touched me. I don’t get touched often.
S&D: LIAR!!
CSW: Is this where my heart is? It hurts. Wonder what it is — must be my breasts saying they want implants. I’m too young for heartburn, which isn’t really in your heart, is it?
S&D: You are *so* not too young for heartburn!
CSW: O.Kay. then.
Tonight, she clears the air:
CSW: The 7yo drags over the neighbors to meet us today. I look BAD. I do not look good.
S&D: You LIE!
CSW: You’re forgiven for the heartburn comment.
CSW: This margarita is sub-par, I mean, really sub-par, but there is something in the salt. (Licks the rim.)
S&D: (head spinning, looks amazed at waitress) Did you SEE that?!? (Laughing very out loud)
CSW: I’m telling you, there is something in the salt. (lick)
S&D: You are gonna make me spew!
CSW: I just wanna lick it. Do you wanna lick this side?
S&D: So we can have *two* women licking it?
CSW: Laughing. You should. I think they dipped the rim in lime and then in the green salt. Yum. For this, I could have two sub-par margaritas.
CSW: I have been trying for a month to write the “I’m not bothered” Meme. I think of things and think, “Nope. That bothers me. I am a very bothered woman.”
S&D: Hot and bothered.
Drinks and Swears and I have been taking turns being the Designated Driver. Last night I was up. Or down. However you want to look at it. At the end of the night, S&D says, “A margarita and a Diet Coke — I so want your life!”
When the check came, I spent time calculating the tip and then a good 5 minutes looking for where to sign. I said, “What kind of receipt is *this* without a line to sign on? I mean, where does the tip go?” And we ruminated on the sorry state of receipts these days until I guess it hit Swears & Drinks: Have you even given them a CARD yet?
CSW: Uh, no. *So* glad you caught me before I just signed this, penned in the tip and walked off.
As we were driving home, we were discussing items of great import. I mean, import. Like Iraq. And immigration.
I yawn. Out of the blue, S&D says, “I so shoulda been the designated driver.”
CSW: No way. That was just a yawn. I’m thinking *deep thoughts,* here, S&D.
S&D: Laughing crazily, “Yeah but you just missed my road. You’re driving to *your* house.”
CSW: Oh. Deep thoughts and all.
What was in that salt rim?!?
Should end with the fact that we were seated next to two great-bodied young gals. Who had not one bit of fun. No laughing. No great conversation. No considering the fact that what the world really needs is another blog: a sexpert blog.
You can have the body but knowledge takes time.
