Anyone close to me has, in all likelihood, alluded to my sunny side up affliction.
The go-to is derision. Pru calls it "unicorn land," another prefers "Karen's world" (art nerds, can't you just see me from the back on that grassy hill like Christina?), several family members call it "the bubble," and, sure, they're mocking me, but the reality is lovely things happen there all the time.
Like an evening during the absolute dregs of October - today's the 29th, for crying out loud - spent on a screened porch in Church Hill, a porch lit by strings of tiny lights and a small lamp or two, with the night air as soft and comfortable as if we were about to tear September off the calendar rather than October.
An evening accompanied by the business of life going on around us - dogs being walked, sirens in the distance, headlights in the alley - as the five of us converse across the table in the golden glow of that porch, where everywhere you look, something pleasurable or interesting catches your eye.
A master class of a porch.
The kind of space ideal for Pru to share a memory. "That reminds me of 10th grade when I said 'semen' instead of 'stamen." Pause. "It was the male part of the plant, so at least I got that part right."
That prch can become a cozy game room when the visitor from Arizona, Burger, admits he's never played Cards Against Humanity during dinner at Belmont Food Shop (where an autumn terrine of squashes, celery root and carrot rocks my world and chocolate truffles are referred to by FabCon as "tip manipulators" because they work).
It's once the game's underway, after we explain that you choose your answer from the ten cards in your hand that we learn Burger has 12...and a stack splayed out under his chair for easy accessing. Political commentary follows.
Q: In today's newscast, Donald Trump made headlines when he denounced what?
My A: The Dewey Decimal system
Peanut Gallery: He would.
With big, comfortable wicker chairs with cushions, it's a most suitable place for long-winded ruminations on language.
When Beau tries to explain the appeal of Hannah Montana, it's by saying she was wholesome and had hi-jinks. Hi-jinks, a word that dotted the Eisenhower-era series we read as kids. Nancy Drew had hi-jinks, the Hardy Boys had hi-jinks.
This crowd could do a minimum of 10 minutes just on a word like that.
As proof, earlier on the porch, we'd gotten on the topic of unlikely building materials, a rabbit hole that began with bales of hay, moved on to used car tires and crashed and burned with 2-litre soda bottles.
Why, you ask, did such a fascinating environmental and architectural topic die that premature death? Because some people brought only the veneer of information to the table and once others of us began digging, they admitted to no further knowledge on the subject than the shred they'd already hurled into the fray.
Don't come to a conversational pit unless you can hold your own.
The porch is just dim enough on a Saturday night for indelicate admissions.
Q: In the new Disney Channel original movie, "Hannah Montana Struggles with what?
My A: A really nasty yeast infection
Beau: I'd watch that.
Pru: Who ARE you?
It's the first time on this practically perfect porch for the dry wit from Philly now languishing in the southwest, who after observing the bossy and bossed dynamic between the usual cast of characters, thinks he's got it all figured.
"Ooooh, I see, it's a dominatrix party!" He only wishes (fervently, too).
Tonight, Bootleg Shakespeare (cue "There's something happening here, What it is ain't exactly clear") was performance art (none of it as riveting or hilarious as a pants-less BC Maupin as Brutus and a kneeling Sara Heifetz as Portia having a, shall we say, intimate moment) allowing an impromptu party to kick off early.
If memory serves, I lectured a man on italics (they are to be read aloud more emphatically), Pru got poetic with Burger ("We can't make plans with your "ifs") and Beau used the third person to feed me verbiage for this post ("Who knew that Beau was a mouth dispenser virgin?" about never having squirted whipped cream or E-Z Cheese in his mouth).
Middle-aged hi-jinks, as fine a way as any to spend an October evening on a screened porch with a great aura. Kind of makes me want to sing a song about Nebraska.
Showing posts with label cards against humanity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cards against humanity. Show all posts
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Who? This Guy, That's Who
Hope you're in the middle of a grand weekend!
Yes, I'm at the river today and very much enjoying the view.
BTW, I'm very jealous about that river thing.
The river thing is most excellent, I won't lie, but I'm heading back shortly for a friend's party, so your jealousy can be short-lived.
Well, from the river to a party - still not registering high on the sympathy scale with me!
The man had a point.
But tonight's Cocktails and Cards party was non-negotiable, so I took a leisurely outdoor shower before leaving and then stopped home just long enough to put on a summery-looking dress and head to Church Hill to socialize with eight other people.
Driving up the hill to my destination, I spotted a guy standing against a yellow brick wall on 28th or 29th Street, staring West into the brutal pre-sunset glare motionless. He and the entire block seemed suffused with sunshine.
I knew it would be the last lightness I saw before entering the dark world of Cards Against Humanity.
Food covered two tables in two rooms, guests came and went throughout the night, providing changing odds and varying dynamics between the cerebral and corny humor aficionados and it was the usual tough crowd, so everyone brought their "A" game.
Best-written card I never found a use for: Riding the struggle bus
Favorite quip from the man to my left: I already won in my own head
Prank worth trying: Telling people that the word "gullible" is not in the dictionary (Even better, the wife's comment that followed: "Both she and I fell for that.")
Favorite answer to the question, "Who's really to blame?": The person Mr. Rogers thought I could be.
Most surprising comment about appendages: Lady hands on a man make me want to throw up
Best reaction to an innocuous card about "taking it to the kitchen": Uh-oh, do we need to Urban Dictionary that?
Funniest comment about going on a job interview: You know you're going to have to buy pants first
Quickest assumption to "blue waffle" as the answer to the question "What exactly is up my ass?": That's got to be something sexual
Phrase worth remembering for future use: Heteroflexible
The cards, we all agreed, were written by guys smoking weed who then sent them though quality control with 13-year old boys. To wit: felching.
When word nerds drink, they can't resist researching. "I don't need to know," said the wise one, shaking her head.
Oh, but I do. Can we ratchet up the sympathy scale for that?
Yes, I'm at the river today and very much enjoying the view.
BTW, I'm very jealous about that river thing.
The river thing is most excellent, I won't lie, but I'm heading back shortly for a friend's party, so your jealousy can be short-lived.
Well, from the river to a party - still not registering high on the sympathy scale with me!
The man had a point.
But tonight's Cocktails and Cards party was non-negotiable, so I took a leisurely outdoor shower before leaving and then stopped home just long enough to put on a summery-looking dress and head to Church Hill to socialize with eight other people.
Driving up the hill to my destination, I spotted a guy standing against a yellow brick wall on 28th or 29th Street, staring West into the brutal pre-sunset glare motionless. He and the entire block seemed suffused with sunshine.
I knew it would be the last lightness I saw before entering the dark world of Cards Against Humanity.
Food covered two tables in two rooms, guests came and went throughout the night, providing changing odds and varying dynamics between the cerebral and corny humor aficionados and it was the usual tough crowd, so everyone brought their "A" game.
Best-written card I never found a use for: Riding the struggle bus
Favorite quip from the man to my left: I already won in my own head
Prank worth trying: Telling people that the word "gullible" is not in the dictionary (Even better, the wife's comment that followed: "Both she and I fell for that.")
Favorite answer to the question, "Who's really to blame?": The person Mr. Rogers thought I could be.
Most surprising comment about appendages: Lady hands on a man make me want to throw up
Best reaction to an innocuous card about "taking it to the kitchen": Uh-oh, do we need to Urban Dictionary that?
Funniest comment about going on a job interview: You know you're going to have to buy pants first
Quickest assumption to "blue waffle" as the answer to the question "What exactly is up my ass?": That's got to be something sexual
Phrase worth remembering for future use: Heteroflexible
The cards, we all agreed, were written by guys smoking weed who then sent them though quality control with 13-year old boys. To wit: felching.
When word nerds drink, they can't resist researching. "I don't need to know," said the wise one, shaking her head.
Oh, but I do. Can we ratchet up the sympathy scale for that?
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Folly of Word Nerds
Because being on a screened porch strung with fairy lights while a July rain falls just outside is a practically transcendent way to wile away an evening.
That the gentle night also involved mocking, condescension and outright compliments only attests to our unlikely activity: my first foray into the oh-so popular game that's swept the nation.
You read right, last night I was introduced to Cards Against Humanity.
That's right, I killed new age music. How, you ask?
...An ice pick lobotomy.
It wasn't the plan. That had been determined months ago and consisted of dinner and "The Merchant of Venice" at Agecroft. Given the play's talking points about Jewish-ness, I'd chosen Dinamo for its fusion of Jewish and Italian food.
He Who Shall Not Be named (aka Mr. Google Scheduler) had us there before the propeller even began spinning. Naturally, we were the first eager beavers in the place other than staff. Ouch.
Not that I cared once I was sharing octopus salami that looked like paper-thin slices of a jeweled window and tasted like a seaside meal or polishing off my own cold plate of marinated seafood salad of mussels, clams, shrimp and octopus. Keeping it simple, I finished with a Nutella cookie and we left for Agecroft.
We were a well-oiled machine, seated, with new Shakespeare fans in hand when the entire audience was directed inside due to "pool rules." Thunder and lightening were fast approaching and they didn't want any of us good patrons to be electrified, as house manager Noah so quaintly put it.
A brief wait, a decision to go back outside and begin and then the cold, hard facts. The show was called.
So, you see, it wasn't like we didn't try to get some culture before descending into the gutter of sexually offensive and politically incorrect conversation.
It was my first time on the porch since it had been fully tricked out, meaning I couldn't help but admire all the little touches - Wellies by the door, cushioned chairs of various styles, tables with candles and lamps, flowering plants and antique window frames.
The sole male commented that the ledge covered in necessaries - various bug sprays for body and room, aloe if you did get a bite, sunscreens of myriad strengths - was the only jarring note in an otherwise lovely space, but I disagreed. Vehemently.
A screened porch is an outdoor room, but also a utilitarian one. Such a ledge was completely appropriate, in my opinion, because all the assorted sundries you could possibly require while enjoying the porch were readily available. You never had to leave the porch to stay comfortable.
Decorating roundtable finished, we got down to the serious business of cracking each other up.
As a CAH virgin, I immediately was curious about the fact that there were black and white cards. You mean like the races? Setting the tone for the evening, my hostess arched an eyebrow and announced without so much as a chortle, "All cards matter."
Not going to lie, we had all kinds of fun trying to figure out what combination would win the favor of the round's card czar (or, more accurately, czarina, since men were outnumbered 3 to 1), taking into account who leaned toward corny and who always opted for sick or intellectual humor.
A girl's best friend?
...David Bowie flying in on a tiger made of lightening
Brilliant, right? Okay, but so is this one:
A girl's best friend?
...Licking things to claim them as her own
Turns out this game's underlying purpose is encouraging players to inadvertently remember things or share personal history. Now I know I have a friend who's not ashamed to say she's a territorial licker.
Sorry, teacher, I couldn't finish my homework because of...sniffing glue.
"Oh, yea, I remember that," one of the participants says. I wouldn't have pegged her for the glue-sniffing type, but who am I to judge? That said, no one would admit to being "balls deep in a squealin' hog" when that came up as an answer, but the night was still young then.
I soon learned that some black cards came with two blanks, necessitating each of us to choose not one, but two phrases that best completed the sentence.
The Academy award for...flightless birds
Goes to...battlefield amputation
To have two such disparate cards in your hand, much less to combine them so cleverly, well, kudos to me.
Although we'd begun playing around 9:30, it was probably sometime around midnight (post-Pimm's pops, Pimm's cups and Miraval) when we got our first card with three blanks.
"Having to come up with three cards is gonna take forever," our hostess warned, specifically looking at a certain slow player. "We're slow with two! We're good with one, one card, that's it."
What's George Bush thinking about right now?
...Not reciprocating oral sex
...Fiery poops
...Third base
Plausible, all of them, right?
As the night wore on, we especially enjoyed questions that referred back to the person asking. So when I read, "What's my anti-drug?" the friend in the colorful dress exclaimed, "Yours?" and stares at me as if she can discern it from my countenance.
Ultimately, it led to a big discussion of what exactly constitutes an anti-drug. That's one we didn't fully resolve.
After a while, I knew my competitors well enough to tickle their fancies with my answer, as when the formerly soggy one delighted at my response to his card.
I got 99 problems but...Count Chocula...ain't one.
Oh, he laughed. Man, if you only knew how long I held onto the Count Chocula card before finding the ideal place to drop it. A far better player, though, was the Bermudian, who caused us to about lose it when she proffered this:
Daddy, why is Mommy crying?
...The patriarchy
When I read the card, "What is my secret power?" a friend looked askance. "That's the question? I was about to answer!" No, please, tell me my superpower. I'm curious.
Looking at the answers submitted, the Czar mused, "It's between inappropriate yodeling and Toni Morrison's vagina," a sentence I would stake my life on has never having been uttered before in the history of humankind.
One minute we were playing, laughing almost constantly and next thing we knew it was after 1 a.m., and this is not a crowd that stays up late. With that in mind, I got up to leave, a different person than when I'd arrived.
Of course I didn't win, but I didn't do too badly, either. There's already talk of procuring other versions since we practically went through an entire box of black and white cards in one marathon session. Cards Against Humanity may be five years old to the rest of the first world, but it was brand new fun for me tonight.
Let's put it this way: I understood the game well enough to find my seatmate's two-part answer absolutely hilarious.
Step one...folly of man
Step two...Cards Against Humanity
That the gentle night also involved mocking, condescension and outright compliments only attests to our unlikely activity: my first foray into the oh-so popular game that's swept the nation.
You read right, last night I was introduced to Cards Against Humanity.
That's right, I killed new age music. How, you ask?
...An ice pick lobotomy.
It wasn't the plan. That had been determined months ago and consisted of dinner and "The Merchant of Venice" at Agecroft. Given the play's talking points about Jewish-ness, I'd chosen Dinamo for its fusion of Jewish and Italian food.
He Who Shall Not Be named (aka Mr. Google Scheduler) had us there before the propeller even began spinning. Naturally, we were the first eager beavers in the place other than staff. Ouch.
Not that I cared once I was sharing octopus salami that looked like paper-thin slices of a jeweled window and tasted like a seaside meal or polishing off my own cold plate of marinated seafood salad of mussels, clams, shrimp and octopus. Keeping it simple, I finished with a Nutella cookie and we left for Agecroft.
We were a well-oiled machine, seated, with new Shakespeare fans in hand when the entire audience was directed inside due to "pool rules." Thunder and lightening were fast approaching and they didn't want any of us good patrons to be electrified, as house manager Noah so quaintly put it.
A brief wait, a decision to go back outside and begin and then the cold, hard facts. The show was called.
So, you see, it wasn't like we didn't try to get some culture before descending into the gutter of sexually offensive and politically incorrect conversation.
It was my first time on the porch since it had been fully tricked out, meaning I couldn't help but admire all the little touches - Wellies by the door, cushioned chairs of various styles, tables with candles and lamps, flowering plants and antique window frames.
The sole male commented that the ledge covered in necessaries - various bug sprays for body and room, aloe if you did get a bite, sunscreens of myriad strengths - was the only jarring note in an otherwise lovely space, but I disagreed. Vehemently.
A screened porch is an outdoor room, but also a utilitarian one. Such a ledge was completely appropriate, in my opinion, because all the assorted sundries you could possibly require while enjoying the porch were readily available. You never had to leave the porch to stay comfortable.
Decorating roundtable finished, we got down to the serious business of cracking each other up.
As a CAH virgin, I immediately was curious about the fact that there were black and white cards. You mean like the races? Setting the tone for the evening, my hostess arched an eyebrow and announced without so much as a chortle, "All cards matter."
Not going to lie, we had all kinds of fun trying to figure out what combination would win the favor of the round's card czar (or, more accurately, czarina, since men were outnumbered 3 to 1), taking into account who leaned toward corny and who always opted for sick or intellectual humor.
A girl's best friend?
...David Bowie flying in on a tiger made of lightening
Brilliant, right? Okay, but so is this one:
A girl's best friend?
...Licking things to claim them as her own
Turns out this game's underlying purpose is encouraging players to inadvertently remember things or share personal history. Now I know I have a friend who's not ashamed to say she's a territorial licker.
Sorry, teacher, I couldn't finish my homework because of...sniffing glue.
"Oh, yea, I remember that," one of the participants says. I wouldn't have pegged her for the glue-sniffing type, but who am I to judge? That said, no one would admit to being "balls deep in a squealin' hog" when that came up as an answer, but the night was still young then.
I soon learned that some black cards came with two blanks, necessitating each of us to choose not one, but two phrases that best completed the sentence.
The Academy award for...flightless birds
Goes to...battlefield amputation
To have two such disparate cards in your hand, much less to combine them so cleverly, well, kudos to me.
Although we'd begun playing around 9:30, it was probably sometime around midnight (post-Pimm's pops, Pimm's cups and Miraval) when we got our first card with three blanks.
"Having to come up with three cards is gonna take forever," our hostess warned, specifically looking at a certain slow player. "We're slow with two! We're good with one, one card, that's it."
What's George Bush thinking about right now?
...Not reciprocating oral sex
...Fiery poops
...Third base
Plausible, all of them, right?
As the night wore on, we especially enjoyed questions that referred back to the person asking. So when I read, "What's my anti-drug?" the friend in the colorful dress exclaimed, "Yours?" and stares at me as if she can discern it from my countenance.
Ultimately, it led to a big discussion of what exactly constitutes an anti-drug. That's one we didn't fully resolve.
After a while, I knew my competitors well enough to tickle their fancies with my answer, as when the formerly soggy one delighted at my response to his card.
I got 99 problems but...Count Chocula...ain't one.
Oh, he laughed. Man, if you only knew how long I held onto the Count Chocula card before finding the ideal place to drop it. A far better player, though, was the Bermudian, who caused us to about lose it when she proffered this:
Daddy, why is Mommy crying?
...The patriarchy
When I read the card, "What is my secret power?" a friend looked askance. "That's the question? I was about to answer!" No, please, tell me my superpower. I'm curious.
Looking at the answers submitted, the Czar mused, "It's between inappropriate yodeling and Toni Morrison's vagina," a sentence I would stake my life on has never having been uttered before in the history of humankind.
One minute we were playing, laughing almost constantly and next thing we knew it was after 1 a.m., and this is not a crowd that stays up late. With that in mind, I got up to leave, a different person than when I'd arrived.
Of course I didn't win, but I didn't do too badly, either. There's already talk of procuring other versions since we practically went through an entire box of black and white cards in one marathon session. Cards Against Humanity may be five years old to the rest of the first world, but it was brand new fun for me tonight.
Let's put it this way: I understood the game well enough to find my seatmate's two-part answer absolutely hilarious.
Step one...folly of man
Step two...Cards Against Humanity
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