Annerky's Birthday Bash!

So my friend Annerky (remember Annerky? I wrote a haiku about Annerky) threw herself a birthday party at Babes of Carytown last night! Hijinks ensued (click to embiggen):

The first to arrive (Annerky is in blue).

"PAAAAAAAAR-TEEEEEE!!!

Silly String bukkake, soon to be a birthday tradition.

Flowers provided by Sarah J.

On the dance floor.

"Why, yes, as a matter of fact, it IS my birthday!"

"OMG, I'm THIRTY-FOUR!!!"

"But the vast array of beauteous babes will distract me from my age."

More from the dance floor.

Bobby mugs...

Sarah smiles. Annerky sweats.

A rarity--Annerky straight... uh, -faced

"Laissez les bontemps ROULER!"

Special birthday wishes.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!"

Well, Annerky, thanks for inviting me and letting me be one of the girls; it was a HOOT!

Six Pseudohaikus

Or, what goes through my head at 2:00 a. m.

(1) On Coffee
Delicious caffeine!

Dark potion of wakefulness.

Another cup, please.

(2) Up Late

No sleep for the geek.

Adrenaline and coffee

Make my neurons fire.

(3) When I'm In Pain

Fuck off, aspirin!

My backache deserves much more.

Ibuprofen rules!

(4) Concerning the Recent Rapture

Don't worry, Raptoids!

You misread your timetable?

X-Day is coming.

(5) To A Facebook Friend

Silly Annerky!

You poke me and I poke you.

It's almost like sex.

(6) An Evening's Entertainment
World domination!
With a simple game of Risk
Sarah rapes us both.

An Evening of Risk

I've never been one to turn down a opportunity for humiliation, so when my friend Sarah-the-Game-Shark texted, "wanna play risk tonite?" ("tonite" being Friday night, the eve before the most recent Rapture prediction), I readily agreed.

Intense concentration by all as we set up the board

(Bobby is gray, Sarah is red and yellow,

I'm blue... in more ways than one).

Sarah demonstrates how she will make

Africa her bitch with her camel toe.

"This looks bad."

"Hmmm... perhaps the Middle East should be next to fall."

A few rounds later and...

"VICTORY IS MINE!"

Sometimes You Can't Win

Since we all know The Internet Is Made of Cats, I feel it is my solemn duty to post the occasional pic of King Sid the First, Master of Fluffiness, Lord High Consumer of All Things Tuna, and Designated Scourge of Displaced Crickets.

Which I did the other day at my Facebook account:

His Majesty upon his favorite perch.

And which precipitated the following exchange:

Sarah: Creepy cat lady

JR: really Sarah....ahem...

Sarah: Show me a picture on facebook of me and a cat!

JR: dont need to, you and (Big Gay) an{ne} are conspiring cat ladies and blackberry birthers...

Sarah: Blackberry birthers!? All I'm saying is that cat ladies stay at home and make people look at pictures of their cats. That is {G. W.}.

Well, okay, it's true I rarely leave the apartment except by necessity and I did post a cat pic, but hey! >>>I<<< don't force people to view an image of my Stinky Shoes (as Sarah did recently). I may be a recluse, but I've got some class!

Okay, I don't.