If you missed Tuesday's post, a riveting tale by TheInfoPreneur (the new McNab), then make sure you check it out. You won't regret it. Today I have the pleasure of handing my blog over to JenJen, of Jen's Voices. If you've missed me this week (I know Jimmy Bastard has been beside himself) I'll be back next week. With vengeance. Anyway, JenJen is funny, witty and a classy writer and it's a real treat to have her. Over to you girl...

I begged them to let me go; it was the first party I was invited to so it was imperative that I be there. More than imperative; it was critical for my success and advancement in the High School Pecking Order. It's a tough world out there in the halls of secondary education and by God, come hell or high water I wanted my spot.

The approval I got was based on a set of falsehoods I delivered as answers to some tough questions:

"Will there be drinking?"

"bah. Heh. ...No...duh? We're not old enough pfft. meh..I mean..come on mom.."

Even at sixteen I was the picture of calm and cool, much like today really.

"Will her parents be there?"

"Ahem...mom..of course they will be. I mean I'm sure. Like totally sure..."

How this even passed as an valid answer shows that either my parents were setting me up or they were stoned and didn't realize they were being set up.

When I received the nod, I ran frantically to my closet to try on everything twice and then again with shoes only to find, much like this morning: nothing to wear.

Such is life for a girly girl, I guess.

I decided on something mint green and pink...I remember the outfit. It was my favorite at the time. I called up my friends from my bedroom and we made plans to meet at a house down the street. One can of Aqua Net, a tube of pink shimmery lip gloss and a bazillion plastic bangle bracelets and I was r-e-a-d-y to fly.

Would you believe that there was drinking?

Shocking.

And?

Her parents were actually in Myrtle Beach?

I know. How irresponsible. Of them.

I was offered my first beer. I remember thinking, "well crap this tastes like...well, crap. And dirt. Mixed with soap."

Totally awesome. So I had another.

And a few more "anothers" after that.

So much more "anothers" that when Brian Korte. knocked over the speaker through the glass door, I didn't really notice.

So much that when I heard, "the COPS ARE COMING!" it took me a little bit too long to react.

So much that when I tried to scale the tall red fence in my Keds, I laughed because I couldn't grip the wood to climb over and ended up tush down on the damp grass below.

So much that when I decided to just simply leave via the driveway, in a run, I laughed when I ran into someone.

"oops! Sorry, hey..." I was brushing the grass from my behind, "...the cops are coming, you gotta split."

And when I look up?

Officer AntiTeenDrinking is standing before me.

Not pleased.

I ran into him.

Totally. Busted.

He was nice enough to drive me home. All four blocks and four blocks of lecture. Did I stop drinking at parties? Heck no.

I learned to wear shoes with better grippy souls.

Comments

So, did Officer AntiTeenDrinking squeal to your folks?
.-= Jan´s last blog ..It Would Appear So =-.

Jan, he actually told me that if I didn't tell them myself, he'd report me.
I had no idea what that meant so I of course did what he said and got myself appropriately grounded.
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

Have you any idea how many hours I've spent standing behind the curtains watching every car that pulled into my road past the back of midnight?

Two daughters... a long memory of my own youth, you've brought it all back again.

Damn you!
.-= Jimmy Bastard´s last blog ..Who the Hell is Mac? =-.

By the way.... Mo who?
.-= Jimmy Bastard´s last blog ..Who the Hell is Mac? =-.

I can't speak for Mo, but he's moving house (again, I know, but still within Harrogate and so WILL go to Graveleys fish and chips as you have requested) and will probably be back next week with a bang and some more pub stories will emerge.
.-= Mo´s last blog ..Nice Belt Buckle, Occifer =-.

Sorry Jimmy Bastard! I am currently corrupting a daughter of my own, who is only 8 now and at least 20 years from misbehaving in that fashion.
Right?
RIGHT?
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

hAHAH....I can't tell you how many times we would all panic when someone yelled COPs!!! So we'd fly out the backdoor and run away. We always parked blocks away JUST IN CASE

Oh, Montana....it was the perfect beginning to my future plans to turn to a life of crime...
.-= Michel´s last blog ..It's Like Sudan WANTS Me to Mock It... =-.

Well Michel you were totally badass and obvioulsy way cooler than me.
I bet you still are... Montana. Hm.
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

Good first drinking / party story there. Why is it that drinking and the police almost never mix well?
.-= Eric´s last blog ..Another Reason Why the U.S. Postal Service Is Lame (Il Servizio Postale è Male) =-.

It is strange that it seems to work out that way, doeesn't it. Darn cops.
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

Excellent story, reminds me of growing up partying at "woodsies" out in the mountains. We would 4-wheel into an area we were sure the police couldn't get to. The flaw in our plan was we had to try and 4-wheel back out while wasted.
.-= Skylers Dad´s last blog ..Until I get some sort of actual blog fodder... =-.

We partied at a place like that, off the beaten path in a underdeveloped area. Our struggle was when party time was over, remembering how to get out. Good times, good times.
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

Aah, happy memories. Sort of. Except me replaced by you. In a different country. At different times.

But otherwise, spot on. It's like you delved into my memories, maaan.

Happy ish memories love. ISH. And? I totally delved in there. and? ooooh scary. Except this one area...oh you naughty thing. Tsk tsk.
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

Ha. My only run in with the cops is when they had to drive my sister to the hospital ...

Oh my I hope....um...I hope there was a baby involved. Like on on the way right now.
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

This was really fun to read Jen!

I'm still upset that I haven't been able to guest for month but such is life!

I never really snuck out to parties, but I did sneak girls in my room all the time, my mom would get so mad hearing all the commotion!

Ps: mo, you're moving agai!? Did the garbage can ghost spook you out of the house?

Mr C, Thanks honey. And? I would have totally been a snuck-ee. You seem like lots of fun.
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

Stupid bb always changes "Mo" to month

Well, we all know what they say about bad workmen and their Blackberries.
.-= Mo´s last blog ..Nice Belt Buckle, Occifer =-.

Oh my gosh, so funny! I am terrible at fence climbing...grippy soles or not...so I would have been right there with you!
.-= Jen @ lifelove'n'wine´s last blog ..Remembering Maddie =-.

OMG I remember my neighbor hopping over a chain link fence one time and caught the ass of her bathing suit on the spoke.
(insert hysterical laughter here)
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

I distinctly remember having a conversation with a police officer's tie clip after one of my own parties. I don't plan on any parent only trips until my boys are graduated and away in college.
.-= Captain Dumbass´s last blog ..2022: A Popcorn Odyssey =-.

OMG me too. I'm so nervous because my husband was a whole lot worse than me. Whole lots. lots of whole lots.
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

The lessons we learned as teenagers were the best! Don't like dark beer, try a light one.
Sneaking out through the back door doesn't work, go through the window instead.
My parents don't like a girl I hang out with, tell them you are hanging out with someone else.

Teenage mentality was awesome. Sometimes I wish I could go back to those days....

Yankee Girl, Good grief you've brought back so many cringeworthy moments. The window. The lying. hay...is your name Tammy and did you live in Michigan??
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

Awwwww, the memories start flooding my swimming in beer brain. Those were the days, your story could be any number of mine...except of course you would look way better than me in it.
.-= The Urban Cowboy´s last blog ..Tiger got Nike =-.

Urban Cowboy, HA this was one of many...wait. No. This was the only story of mine. I was an innocent girl.
.-= JenJen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

UH HUH...yea, right...I was thinking the same thing.

On the Crazy Train

Very funny! I like your true life tales, they tend to bring back a lot of memories for me.
.-= otin´s last blog ..The wooden box (Theme Tuesday-Thursday) =-.

Glad I could make the master giggle!

nice... didn't anyone tell you that you were supposed to run FROM the cops, not run INTO them?

i used to review applications for my law school. this one guy got drunk and went over to an empty police car. always wanted to know what it'd feel like to sit inside one. he kept both feet outside the vehicle, but next thing you know, he's on his ass, in cuffs and being arrested for attempted grand theft auto... (i have no idea why your post made me think of that - i blame it on the lack of sleep)
.-= jaime´s last blog ..What's in the Box? =-.

Yea, me either. WTF?!

A delight!
.-= anandagirl´s last blog ..OMSI =-.

why thank you!

Classic. Well done.
.-= Pseudo´s last blog ..Oahu Coffee Beat: Traveling Thursday =-.

Ha thank you!

Oh I can just picture you sassy little JenJen...I know this memory as I lived it once too. Or twice. Only made worse for me by the fact my Father was a police officer. NICE.
.-= JennyMac´s last blog ..Your mouth can thank me later =-.

Oh my...That would have ruined my social life. For sure.
.-= Jenjen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

Grippy shoes, always wear the grippy shoes!

Aaaack! Total Rubber Soles.
.-= Jenjen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

Ooops, Mo, I finally figured out what you told me ages ago...you're right, my link said blogspoNt. Doh! My bad. All better.

Happy Weekend.
.-= lola sharp´s last blog ..Whatever Lola Wants, Lola GIVES! So Tonight I Make a Toast.. =-.

Why is it that the policemen never find it as funny as we so?
.-= blognut´s last blog ..Can I Still Be Bitchy Without Damaging the Universe? =-.

They can't have a sense of humor; it's on the application.
.-= Jenjen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

If it happened today, the kid would know to scream "sexual harassment" and get the policeman suspended.

This brings back such fond memories of ralphing in all my friends' hedges at some point or another...and perhaps a pool or two.
.-= Tristan Robin´s last blog ..Wordless Wednesday =-.

Oh man Tristan, you've just reminded me of the hedge at the corner, it was so prickly on my butt.
One time.
.-= Jenjen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

I have many a story about me being a total twit and lying to mom's and cops. I've tried so so so hard to block that shit out. Because, you know, I'm reformed! Obviously!

That. Is. Funny.

Reformed my ass.
.-= Jenjen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

lol! if i had a dollar for every time my parents asked me growing up "are so-and so's parents going to be there?", i think i'd be rich.

p.s. their parents were NEVER there :)
.-= Slyde´s last blog ..Reading Is Fundamental =-.

ps....you're totally on to me.
.-= Jenjen´s last blog ..Are Mad Dogs Pissed Off or Crazy? =-.

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  • Warning: Cannot modify header information - headers already sent by (output started at /home/stoneskin/madd0g.org/includes/common.inc:2567) in drupal_send_headers() (line 1207 of /home/stoneskin/madd0g.org/includes/bootstrap.inc).
  • PDOException: SQLSTATE[22001]: String data, right truncated: 1406 Data too long for column 'title' at row 1: INSERT INTO {aggregator_item} (title, link, author, description, guid, timestamp, fid) VALUES (:db_insert_placeholder_0, :db_insert_placeholder_1, :db_insert_placeholder_2, :db_insert_placeholder_3, :db_insert_placeholder_4, :db_insert_placeholder_5, :db_insert_placeholder_6); Array ( [:db_insert_placeholder_0] => In Which, Not Having Posted For A While, Our Hero Grabs Whatever Odd Crap He Can Off Of His Phone And Adds Some Words In The Vague Hope That Something Profound Or At Least Moderately Entertaining Will Emerge, As Will The Inspiration For A Pithy And Succinct Title To Encapsulate it. [:db_insert_placeholder_1] => http://gravelfarm.blogspot.com/2012/07/in-which-not-having-posted-for-while.html [:db_insert_placeholder_2] => [:db_insert_placeholder_3] => <br /><div style="color: black;">My 2 year-old daughter, Bonobo, enjoys colouring in.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Well, I say colouring in, but really it's scrawling random marks across any flat surface with anything that might feasibly make a mark. Crayon, ink, paint, snot, poo, blood, you name it, she seems to be able to incorporate it into her art, and will brook no criticisms,&nbsp;constructive&nbsp;or otherwise, about whether it is "good" or "insightful" or "talented" or "naughty".&nbsp; Just this morning, I found her outside making a delightful print on the patio with the juice from a disgruntled snail.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dkwNRpAx8VI/T_wNLDIiGYI/AAAAAAAABCU/-W1n9rbbJqM/s1600/banksy+wall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dkwNRpAx8VI/T_wNLDIiGYI/AAAAAAAABCU/-W1n9rbbJqM/s320/banksy+wall.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dear Jebus let that be chocolate spread.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">She's like Gilbert &amp; George only, you know, she occasionally does stuff I like.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Obviously, I want to encourage the artistic&nbsp;aspects of her character, but preferably whilst discouraging the&nbsp;accompanying&nbsp;random acts of vandalism to the sofa or fridge door. This involves the purchase of vast reams of paper and imperial gallons of colouring books for her to <s>waste</s>&nbsp;utilise.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">I don't normally bother looking at them, other than giving the occasional finished piece a quick glance, saying "well done Sweetheart, I shall treasure it forever" before placing it carefully out of view in the recycling box, but I did flick through this cheap one she got as a gift in a party bag:</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: black;"></div><div style="color: black;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XuI7ztZplfU/T_S59DE1dwI/AAAAAAAABBM/G_xOtKOw458/s1600/cullrin+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XuI7ztZplfU/T_S59DE1dwI/AAAAAAAABBM/G_xOtKOw458/s320/cullrin+3.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This will end in tears. </td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">It's pretty standard fare, really. A selection of motifs and tableaux of no particular ilk or order, ready for children to completely not keep within the lines on. It got me wondering how much thought and endeavour go into the creation of such tomes.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">They're basically doodles, which are then printed out in book form and sold. A starving artist whacks out a toad underneath a toadstool whilst some sort of large insect, possibly of the order Odonata wearing a bowler hat, sits on top trying to remember where it lost it's other pair of legs:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hpUH3tXyuPc/T_S75KnQeFI/AAAAAAAABB0/ptHfBJM7_Rk/s1600/cullrin+1a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hpUH3tXyuPc/T_S75KnQeFI/AAAAAAAABB0/ptHfBJM7_Rk/s400/cullrin+1a.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smuggest toad in Amphibiville.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Opposite, a fairy shows an old sock to a deer with oddly long front legs, perhaps hoping the fawn will be able to track the owner, lost in the woods these past forty-eight hours and causing concern as temperatures are dropping, what with the sun playing hide and seek behind the cloud there. </div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Sticking with the toadstool theme, the next page had turned the whole concept on it's head by having the toad <i>on top</i> of the fungus, literally as a stool for the toad. Madness. It appears to be being addressed by a bizarre anthropomorphic rodent which sends chills through my spine in a way that Mickey never did:</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WvRoUwsKImo/T_S6O67sWOI/AAAAAAAABBU/TCp-728ntG4/s1600/cullrin+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WvRoUwsKImo/T_S6O67sWOI/AAAAAAAABBU/TCp-728ntG4/s320/cullrin+4.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Go on, let me lick you."</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">The chameleon on the opposing page was relatively lifelike, if one discounts the expression on it's face which suggests it has narrowly missed being caught doing something both immoral and illegal. Presumably with it's tongue.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">After expending vast amounts of efforts on the previous mouse, not only giving it a face but a set of clothes as well, the artist then runs out of time and, almost certainly, inclination for the next mouse-based piece. Here, they are sadly two-dimensional and lacking even a rudimentary&nbsp;mandible, sailing forlornly in some sort of leaf-boat 'neath a bright, croissant-lit sky:</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ml9ou9aQTSw/T_S_L5GKeSI/AAAAAAAABCI/tiqdwJygIMk/s1600/cullrin+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ml9ou9aQTSw/T_S_L5GKeSI/AAAAAAAABCI/tiqdwJygIMk/s320/cullrin+5.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the kingdom of the deaf, the one-eared mice are kings.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">As if realising the obvious lack of talent demonstrated by the boat-mice, the artist ups his or her game and does a reasonable job on the flowers and butterfly opposite.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">On a roll now, the artist illustrates a good facsimile of a gnu, looking as if it is about to charge any child considering colouring it in pink. Other than that, though, things take a downward turn. The artist has now run out of animals to draw, and is reduced to portraying some sort of wallaby/teddy/dog hybrid about to be grabbed by a six-fingered, thumbless hand, presumably for the crime of simply existing.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--kstZBfzVns/T_S6biL8-II/AAAAAAAABBk/7Drr_TXSO4M/s1600/cullrin+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--kstZBfzVns/T_S6biL8-II/AAAAAAAABBk/7Drr_TXSO4M/s320/cullrin+6.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"What am I? WHAT AM I?"</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Towards the end of the book, impetus seems to be dwindling, and rather than draw another toad or existing creature, the artists wazzes off another example of whatever the hell that thing is, only this time the freak is attempting to hide it's shame behind an oversize flower. Good thing too:</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mTDIO0bnls0/T_wOqDKVzDI/AAAAAAAABCk/cDOHcNs8QbQ/s1600/freek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mTDIO0bnls0/T_wOqDKVzDI/AAAAAAAABCk/cDOHcNs8QbQ/s320/freek.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't look at me, I beg of you. Look at the whale. </td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">The finale of the book, which in my opinion you might expect to be one of the better pieces of work to leave the audience with, is of a stunted whale, gaping mouth half full of vomit, spurting juice out of it's head-hole like some sort of cetacean money-shot.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Sadly, I do not foresee see many worthwhile accolades coming to this artist. Tracey Emin could have done it. </div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">From today's reading, many lessons emerge. I have learnt that I know two more animals than the artist responsible for this colouring book (camel and dog. I'm not showing off, just saying).</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">I have learnt that&nbsp; it doesn't really matter what you put on a page as long as children get to destroy it in the name of creativity.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Most importantly of all I have learnt that a snail can indeed look disgruntled.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Sometimes, the level of profundity I achieve through writing this blog staggers even me.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">Ooh, snail!</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;">That's three.</div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><div style="color: black;"><br /></div><br /> [:db_insert_placeholder_4] => tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-917676458656665193.post-1618795888336161232 [:db_insert_placeholder_5] => 1341921120 [:db_insert_placeholder_6] => 10 ) in aggregator_save_item() (line 150 of /home/stoneskin/madd0g.org/modules/aggregator/aggregator.processor.inc).

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