Sunday, August 27, 2006

Fun and Near Death Experiences at an Urban Picnic

Classyandfancy was nice enough to invite me to a work related picnic the other day. She actually only knew a few people there, since it was a company on the periphery of her’s, but we were all about going because there was mention of a corn holing (bean bags) tournament. If you don't know what bean bags or conrnholing are all about, read my Cornholing and Dilly Shops post. The picnic turned out to be essentially people drinking beer and eating brats on folding chairs, on pavement, behind a warehouse, which was a-okay by me!

We thought it not fair that classy and I play together, since the awesomeness could possibly make the universe implode, so we split off onto separate teams. She played with a girl she knew from college, who organized the event, and I played with some strange guy named Paul. Paul had never played bags before, but he had an innate corn holing ability like nothing I’ve ever seen. He was a strange cat, but MAN could he bag! He kept sinking them and I kept screaming, “Big Paul!” I hope I wasn’t annoying, especially since nobody knew me, but it became clear through my conversations with people that nobody knew who the hell Paul was either.

After people started leaving, our plan was to drink a bottle of quality tequila on the roof of the warehouse. I was trying to get people to invite Paul, my unbelievable bags partner, but some thought it strange that he wandered in off the street, and he was a little strange to begin with. So, Classy, her college friend, a guy named Vanna White (who earned that name due to his scorekeeping ability during corn holing) and myself grabbed the keg and the tequila and headed for the freight elevator. When the elevator reached the top floor the door wouldn’t open. No big deal, we decided to go back down to the first floor and open the door, but it wouldn’t open there either! We were probably farting around in that hot ass elevator for over a half hour. I remember thinking, ‘I’m going to die on this elevator with Classy and Vanna, but at least we have a keg.’

Long story short, with some help, we got the door open, enjoyed some fine tequila on the roof of a warehouse, and then I ate the shit out of a Mexican skillet at some diner.


RevRee said...

If I said I didn't know what the hell "bags" was, would I be considered really stupid?

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Not at all revree. I actually made a change to my post to suggest that people read my Cornholing and Dilly Shops post to address people not knowing what bags and conrnholing are. Sorry if you were lost!

Cherry Ride said...

However, revree, it must be noted that besides being a popular game amongst certain midwesterners, "cornholing" is also a popular game amongst certain homosexuals.

(Sorry if you stated that in your original cornhole post, Gancer, but I didn't seeit in there.)

RevRee said...

So which one of you is the homosexual? It will be my mission to change your mind! :-P

I'm just kiddin!

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Revree, you're right. One of us is. Which one would you guess?

RevRee said...

I'm gonna guess Cherry Man is the homosexual?

I could be wrong, I've been wrong once before...

classyandfancy said...

Paul and his bags skills were lights out.

P.S. That is not a mexican skillet, it's something, but mexican it ain't, but I'm guessing images doesn't have a plethora of skillet pics.

P.P.S. Damn you all with your blogger beta!! Should I take the plunge?

Steph said...

Lovin the new blog template. Very nice!
You yanks have some weird arse picnics.
Us Aussies just throw sausages on the BBQ and get pissed.

Loudlush said...

Yeah I'm with Steph, I've never witnessed anything remotely like cornholing at any of the four million Oz BBQ's I've been to.

I'm still hyperventilating at your elevator (we call 'em Lifts) story. If a Lift door ever, EVER, didn't open the nanosecond it reached its destination, a rescue party would find Lush in a foetal position on the floor, sucking her thumb, talking gibberish and surrounded by human waste.

Jenni said...

"...but at least we had a keg."

Why are those always the famous last words of any great day?

It's funny you mentioned Vanna, as I recently had a conversation about her with my husband while watching Wheel of Fortune. It was based on the question of whether or not Vanna finds her life fulfilling.

I'm not sure how fulfilling walking back and forth across a huge wall full of secret phrases could be, but if I were to guess I'd probably guess "not so much."

jmeped said...

Thanks for stopping by.....cornholing? I think anything can be fun if enough tequilla is involved!

NAME: Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

A) Big Paul was En Fuego
B) The pic said it was a Mexican Skillet, but I agree, it looked nothing like the one I enhaled that fateful night.
C) Everyone's doing beta . . . Peer pressure! Use your D.A.R.E. progam tactics to resist.

Steph: This was not you're every day picnic by any stretch of the imagination. Do you all say "Barby?" in reference to a BBQ?

Lush: I think we remained calm because we had the comfort of having a keg in there with us.

Jenni: Hell, I'd wear the sparkly dresses and strut back and forth spinning letters for her pay day. Fulfilling Schmufilling. And hey, give her some credit. Sometimes she starts spinning a letter BEFORE it lights up, which proves she can read with the best of them.

JM: Cornholing may have a yucky name, but it can be damn fun.

NAME: Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

UGH! In my reply to Steph I put you're instead of your. Yuck. Sorry about that, all.

mysterygirl! said...

Ah, I love returning to the midwest-- inevitably at a ballgame I'll see someone bagging in the parking lot. Glad you teamed up with the (albeit crazy) ringer!

And I like your blog's new look!

NAME: Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Thanks, Mystery. Paul should go to the south side and turn pro. I am not lying.