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Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Meatloaf Birthday Cake

Guess what day it is! Come on! You know the commercial! 

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You know you love it!

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In honor of this great day, I want to share the trauma of Hump Days Past. Wednesday is a very special day for me, because it is Game Night. That's right, my wife and I get together with other adults, drink all the things, and play all the board games. Not all board games. There are some card games. There's one game where you get to be Merlin. Because fuck you, I want to be Merlin. Aging in reverse and casting spells and shit, whaaat?!

But I digress. For this particular Game Night, we were celebrating Todd, the Buddy Formerly Known as Craig, and the fact that he was born. As you may remember, Todd does not eat carbs. Because of this, Todd cannot have nice things. Instead of a birthday cake, he got a birthday meatloaf. That's okay. He put a candle in it, melted the candle, ate some wax, it's all good. It was a small meat loaf, but a tasty one.

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I would like to now introduce another friend of ours. he's from the Middle East, and I will call him Ahmed. His name is not actually Ahmed. But I want to protect his identity, and Muhammad seems likely to piss off the Arab/Muslim community. So he's Ahmed. And not the dead terrorist. Didn't even think about that until I just wrote it. Fuck it, he's Ahmed...the alive, Middle Eastern friend. 


Ahmed is a great guy, but he is very intense. To be fair, most Middle Eastern people I know are intense. But Ahmed is different. One, he is Atheist. He argues against G-d as much as a Southern Christian prays for my Jewish soul. And yes, a Jew and a Middle Eastern guy are friends. Fuck you, this is America. Anyway, Ahmed is intense in everything. He works hard, parties harder, and does not know the meaning of "pacing" himself. I say this, because you need to know that this guy is down to do anything. He lives in the "Fuck It" zone.  "Jump off a bridge? Fuck it, let's go. It'll be a good swim."

Now as you may or may not remember, Todd is a special type of drunk that may punch you, or try to kiss you, depending on the liquor. By the time Ahmed shows up, two things have happened. 1) The meatloaf has been eaten to the point that there is only one or two bites, and that is mostly crumbles. 2) Todd has reached the "Fuck it" stage of drunk. You know that stage. "Oh that terrible idea that may not work out? Fuck it, I'm in.". This stage is like renting a hotel in the Fuck It Zone. Just like a hotel, you end up sleeping in someone else's sheets, may or may not get someone else's diseases, and you have to check the next day that you have all of your worldly possessions. This is also known as the "Let's go" stage. "You talking shit about that cactus? Fuck it. Let's go! We'll kick some cactus ass!"

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To have a drunk Todd, and a normal Ahmed in the same room, you know things are going to get interesting. Unfortunately for everyone, they got too interesting. And by that, I mean disturbing. Someone made a glib little comment that Ahmed should eat his meatloaf crumbs off of Todd's body. Ahmed, being Ahmed, said, "Fuck it, I'll do it!". Todd, being Todd, said, "You don't think I'll do it? Let's go mother fucker!". 

Before anyone has any chance to save themselves, Todd is on his back with his shirt pulled up to his neck. Bare in mind that Todd still has a bit of a jelly belly. His transformation is not yet complete. Suddenly, the meatloaf is on Todd's belly, and in his navel, and Ahmed is on his knees licking it up off of Todd. The worst was when Ahmed stuck a finger in Todd's navel to pull out the final bit of meat. Give Ahmed credit, he did it and ate all the meatloaf. And give Todd credit, he had his belly-button and belly hair cleaned. 

I cannot un-see that sight. I can't. It will haunt me. And because of that, I want it to haunt other people. I cannot un-see it, just as you cannot un-imagine it. So yes, I'm that asshole that proves misery loves company. The moral of the story: Birthday cake is better than birthday meatloaf. Also, if you have two people playing chicken in a game of meatloaf body shots, everybody loses. 


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