Last night, being Sunday, Beth and I journeyed to our specific church, the Church of the Angry Frankenstein Monsters (well, that’s what it was last year. I’m not sure what Bryan has decided our new church’s name should be for this year) for some special karaoke hijinks (I love the word hijinks. I love the way it looks with the i-j-i. The three dots makes me happy for some reason).

Angie was there and we hadn’t seen her for awhile so there was a chance to get updates. I had my head turned (can’t hear unless I’m looking directly at people if there is a lot of background noise) and so didn’t catch the whole update but apparently the sex? It is good (she’s dating someone new). She brought her co-worker and friend Jessica with her to celebrate Jessica’s 21st birthday. Great. Another person who could be my kid.

Angie (to me): You look great.
DM: What kind of drugs are you on?
Angie and Jessica: Percoset!

Angie’s having some kidney problems and has been provided with drugs that seem to help. What would be more helpful is if the doctors could figure out what was wrong.

As the evening progressed, Jessica proceeded to become more and more intoxicated. Not sloppy drunk, thank goodness, just kind of silly.

Bryan: Why are you looking at me? Why?
B (Beth): Because we hang on every word you say.
Jessica: And every beat you (pause) box.

Sara (not Sara with an H. Sara “You’re so pretty” Sara (we tell her this and it drives her nuts) was there, wearing her “Tell your boyfriend to stop calling me” tank top.

Jessica: I knew that was Sara. I recognized her boobs.
DM: Yeah, if I had Sara’s boobs, I’d be flaunting them as well.
Angie: So would I.
DM: Oh, shut up (the girl has a nice rack (hey, sometimes I channel my inner straight man)).
Ryan: Yeah, they were out in full force last night.
Bryan: I thought you were talking about a group and then I realized you just meant Sara.

Sara was singing this song by somebody (Fleetwood Mac? I think?) and Jessica looked amazed.

Jessica: I was just singing this song in my head in the bathroom! I’m psychic when I’m drunk.

Please excuse me while I chuckle over this again.

Bryan tried a new drink.

Bryan: Don’t drink Jim Beam Black. You can give the money to a homeless man and have him kick you in the stomach. It’s the same feeling.

Pause.

Bryan: My mouth is frothy.

Girl after my own heart. She really could be my kid.

Jessica: Don’t you love me? I love me.

Later Bryan was exchanging words with Sara, telling her to come up and sing.

Bryan: Strumpet!

Pause.

Bryan: Strumpet? I have Shakespearean Tourettes.

Shannon was also there. Shannon is very pretty, a hair stylist (another person who has told me “Please! For the love of GOD! Do not cut your own hair. I don’t even cut my own hair!) who I like a lot but she is, well, a bit bossy. Funny as heck but bossy. She wanted Bryan to sing Purple Rain (because he’s so damn good at it and hi-larious).

Bryan: Dana (calling me up to sing).
DM: I’m going to pass so you can sing Purple Rain.
B: Wow! She didn’t say Candy Man (well, the man does the best imitation of Sammy Davis Jr but he did sing it on my birthday so I am trying not to be greedy).
Bryan: But I’m not going to sing.
DM: You have to. Shannon scares me.
B (gives me the Beth look): Who scares you more?
DM: I’m going to go sing now.

Bryan did give into pressure and sang Purple Rain. He decided he was going to mess it up so we’d never ask for it again. His plan backfired.

Bryan: Purple Rain – Comma – Purple Rain Dot dot dot Purple Rain – Comma – ooh Exclamation Point

There are no words to explain how funny listening to him sing every bit of punctuation in this song was. He is so brilliant and managed to fit it in there and be in tune. Amazing.

After he was done:

Bryan: Dana.
DM: 100 hyphen 12.
Bryan: Thank you for putting in the hyphen.
DM: You’re welcome.

So you’re all aware of the Chicken Conspiracy that Beth started, right? Well, Thursday she picked me up for karaoke. I get in the car. I say hello to her but I’m putting my seatbelt on so don’t look at her yet. Suddenly I hear this weird little voice.

B: Hello.

I turn and look at her. She is wearing a chicken mask.

DM: Oh my GOD!

There may have been jumping. Anyway, said chicken mask is going to being hung up in my cubicle and I have just received permission to take pictures of my cubicle so you can see exactly how I have chosen to fill the walls here. Believe me when I say I use every possible ounce of space to fill with non-work related things – such as frogs and magnets and my piggy bank Pig and comic strips and lots and lots of political stuff. Take that, Republicans!

Do you know how embarrassed I am that there will be a GOP convention here and that the city is planning on making fancy new roofs and then stealing the pigeon eggs? Because apparently pigeons offend the Rupublicans. Stupid Republicans. Pigeons are kind of cute. Because they are birds. And birds are our friends.

DM: I kind of want to blow up the place where they’re having their convention (but I don’t know where it is so that might be a problem (And I have no access to blowing up things so that’s also a problem (that and I really can’t kill people. That is wrong))). Is that wrong?
Mike: Well, I’m not going to be in the building so I’m okay with it.

Oh, anyway, I’m slightly off tangent (big shock there) and I was going to talk about all of the chicken songs that we sang. It was awesome.

I sang “Passionate Kisses” and substituted “Chickens” for “Kisses.”
Angie and Bryan sang “I Had the Time of My Life” and used “Chicken” several times.
Beth put chicken in a few songs.

Sara: Enough with the chickens!

Welcome to my world, Sara. Now I just go with it. Although Keem does bug me with the sneaking up on me and yelling “Chicken.” Grr.

Easter Sunday is next week so that means there will be the substitution of “Jesus” for “Baby” because at the Chalet, our job is to educate people about new religious choices. Stay tuned for a list of the songs we sing. Oh, and pictures from Sunday night as well (yeah, yeah, it’s Thursday. What’s your point? I’m only a little late).

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