Laws, yes, I was so caught up in ChristmaHannuKwanzaa I completely forgot to tell y’all about the latest Adventure in DJing:
We did a Sweet 16 on Friday, the idea of which initially makes me cringe — Miley Cyrus and no booze, PARTY FAIL. But these kids were fucking cool — they danced every dance, sang along and even did the gawddamn Macarena (by REQUEST, no less!), which I have never before seen done by sober people. Plus, these were my “peeps,” as Chuckweasel called them — gotta love the band geeks!
The weird part was the food.
It was, after all, a birthday party, so they had one of those “cakes” made out of cupcakes on a tier thing. Great, love it, plus it eliminates the need to give the snowflakes knives.
They also had cookies… I guess it’s Christmas Eve-Eve, motherfuckers be bakin’, yo.
They also had fudge and other assorted candy.
To be fair, they did have pretzels… They were chocolate-covered, but still probably the healthiest food available! Canna sistah get a chicken wing?
Seriously, y’all know I try damn hard to avoid breeding, but if I ever DO, and y’all invite my kid to your kid’s party (during prime dinner-eating hours, I might add) and then feed it a menu comprised solely of SUGAR… do not expect me to come get that kid at 10 o’clock. S/he’s YOUR kid ’til the shakes wear off, bitches!
But at least I got to feel virtuous about eating chocolate-covered pretzels.
Plus, I coined a new phrase — upon seeing there were no little meatballs or franks-in-blankets or NOTHING good to eat, I said, “This ain’t worth wasting my pig enzymes on.” ‘Cause that’s how Hoody rolls (mmm, rolls…).