mizChartreuse!

Saturday, August 23rd was George Chorvat’s birthday, so Natalie and I took a little road trip up to his and Vicki’s Poplar Grove lakehouse to partake in the festivities. It was a day full of sunshine, clear water, alcohol, good eats, smokey treats, and a 40-foot bonfire. I believe we also listened to an entire Metallica record.

Also, I have never had so many wasted moms feed me campfire food, tell me crazy stories, and ask me if I have pot. But more on that later.

As soon as Nat and I arrived, we went out on George’s boat for some water sports.

From left: George’s neighbor, Mikey Likey, Mike’s cousin, and brother-in-law.

Jason and Scott

George is basically the most bad ass 60-something-year-old man. Everyone hopes they’ll be as ripped and in shape as he is when they’re that age.

Mike lubing up his feet

My and Natalie’s butts

We decided to tandem-tube a few times. It was pretty much amazing. My body still aches from holding on for dear life. If I were white my knees would be bruised like crazy!

She also went out by herself and dualed with the boys. I personally didn’t want to further compromise my hair since Danny failed to bring us a flat iron.

She kicked their asses! Undefeated. Her leg bruises tell the story.
Mike’s cousin and Natalie

Natalie vs. Danny

DDub also did some water skiing and rocked it.

And solo tubing.

..

“To avoid death…” “This is not a floatation device!” Wow.

We’re so sweet.

They’re basically the same person.

Miller Lite needs to pay their beer spokesmodels [and photog]!

Gunning it.

Melting pot of legs

Sknny btch

Sknny btchs

Windblown

Chillin.

They almost flipped but didn’t.

Anyhow, after all the xtreme water sportz, we devoured a platter of cheese and veggies then had a fantastic dinner. We were having dessert when the doorbell rang and about 20 of George and Vicki’s neighbors came pouring in with a candlelit cake and sang happy birthday. It was so cute!

The little girl in the pink’s name is Morgan, 7 years old. Later when we went across the street to join the neighbors’ backyard party, she told Natalie and I tons of stories of her breaking bones, splitting her head open, etc. Both her parents are medical professionals, so she is lucky, but pretty knowledgeable. She said to her mom [in the black], “You got your tubes tied!” Too cute.

The candle was a question mark.

The lady in the straw hat and peach-orange colored shirt was WAAAASTED later that night. When Nat, Mike, Danny, Mike’s cousin and whoever else were standing around chatting, she’d come barge in, give us a hurricane of a story, and leave just as fast. Stories about how they’re signing petitions to stop her 7-year-old son from being a boat spotter, stories about her ex-husbands and how at 35 she became impregnated by her 28-year-old boyfriend. She was also a pot FIEND.

After George and Vicki’s friends left, we finished eating and headed across the street. The parents played bags and drank, we younger folk drank and drank.

At one point, Straw Hat Peach Wasted Mom was telling us how her son only liked certain kinds of fish and she’d lie to him to get him to eat it and tell him it was his favorite kind. “Just tell ‘im they’re walleye fish sticks!” Her son was standing right next to her, roasting marshmallows, looking at her, and taking mental notes.

We were sitting in chairs around the fire and she was talkingtalkingtalking and we were all like…uh. Danny saved the day when he fell asleep for a moment and dropped his beer. That was her cue to exit. Dan sat up, looked at me and Nat, said, “What the HELL just happened.” and got up and walked away to find more brush to feed the fire.

He would later fall asleep instantaneously sitting up in the kitchen midway through singing a song, and again in a recliner. It was something else getting him up out of that chair so we could walk home, “…sorry, ‘leepin’!” he’d say. We eventually roused him cause I would feel so bad if he woke the next day in an unfamiliar hick house.

The fire. The fire was ridiculous. I’ll call the house owner Ron cause I don’t remember his name. He’s the man in the red shirt and Cubs hat above. He went CRAZY, throwing a gallon of gasoline on the fire to make it flare up. He threw in buckets of oil, everything flammable. He was also wasted as shit and kept feeding us shots in the house.

There’s Ron again, standing next to his 40-foot high bonfire. Insanity.

At one point near the end of the night, basically everything in the yard went in. The citronella mosquito repellant torch things, people’s poking/marshamallow roasting sticks….a PLASTIC YARD CHAIR that was perfectly good….an ENTIRE wooden swing bench…. Wow. Just wow.

Here’s a short video of the flames. They were mesmerizing. I think in the background Mike’s talking about how Danny passed out sitting up in the kitchen chair again.

Great times. And thanks to Goomba for inviting us.