mercredi 8 juin 2005

Good ol' tractor fun.

This is Tweedle's backyard. Rather apt for a lowbrow BBQ, isn't it, given that the weeds are definitely mid-calf high (thanks to all the lovely rain!) and that there is just Tons of SHIT everywhere. We're not even sure where it all came from - previous tenants, perhaps. I would like to point out the plastic sandcastle with the legless flamingos. And the pitchfork. And that couch? It originally had a mattress on top of it (that's what that large white mass is), both of which where thrown out the second-story window last November for whatever reason. And they both had been sitting there, festering in the wet conditions, until now. Yes, there was fuzzy stuff on it. I didn't get close enough to see what else was a new part of the couch.

I also liked the picture of the neighbour's backyard, where the sprinkler is atop the statue of the saint. Did I mention that Tweedle lives between a church and a funeral home? In purgatory, between heaven and hell, I like to say. Oh, and there were services going on next door, amidst the sounds of our loud country music.

We posted lots of signs everywhere before people showed up. Nice little warnings and advisories, you know, to help people out. My favourite sign, which I didn't get a picture of, was posted above the Brita, saying "dehydration = death". These are important things to know.

Unfortunately, we didn't end up getting that gigantic glass sun-tea container, because really, we didn't know what to do with it afterwards. So instead, we had a big thermos full of mystery punch, which is guaranteed to knock you flat on your ass. There is still lots of mystery punch left, which we've frozen in little water bottles for graduation.

If I could figure out how to post videos, I'd post them of the tractor racing we recorded, because it was really funny. Unfortunately, nobody did any tractor pulling, which involved tying a piece of string to the tractor and placing a shot of mystery punch on top. Whoever spilt his/her own shot first was supposed to drink everyone else's. I think it was just a little too complicated, and having tractors hurtling down the driveway was funnier and required less effort. Instead, here are the tractors on the fence, where we put them while we drank out on the sidewalk. So if you were driving down a street in Cambridge around 2pm, and saw a bunch of people on the sidewalk holding plastic cups and acting rambunctious - yes, we were drunk.

It was really hot, and seeing that we all started drinking at 1pm, by the time 5pm rolled around I was hot, really drunk, and cranky. And the otter pops I had started wolfing down weren't helping matters at all. So I went inside to take a nap. Unfortunately, I have mean friends who barged in on my nap and took pictures (maybe because I took pictures of them passed out earlier on, who knows). I would also like to point out how tan I am now, as opposed to the translucent shades I was due to the lovely New England winter. Tan. Mm.

Yes, my skirt has a bustle. Just because it was low brow did not mean that I was going to dress like it was. Besides, I'd have worn this skirt had the BBQ stuck to its original theme, the Alice in Wonderland one, so I decided to wear it anyway even though the theme had changed.

We, however, did have some white trash wear. There were cowboy hats, fake mullets, fake missing teeth, and my particular favourite, beer can earrings.

Here are the obligatory pictures of food. FOOD. YUM. That nasty pink stuff is ambrosia. I did not taste any, because, ew, look at it, it does not look good. Everything else was, though.

Sad little lost drunk tractors.