We will just call him... Big Poppa.
He looked at it rather increduously.
He sat down next to me, as I was still concentrating hard on learning that complicated game of spades.
He complained about the music choices.
"What's up with this '70s Prom music?"
"I like this music. I like ConFunkshun!" Kim said.
We all liked the music. We were a bunch of females, all about the same age, grew up in that era.
*Big Poppa immediately calling up someone on his cell phone to bring "proper" music*
I got up from the table to go get some more spinach dip. (Heck, that's all I could eat, and I was gonna work it).
I started taking pictures of the punch and liquor. (I'd left my camera at home and was eager to snatch up Green Eyed Bandit's camera and use up her card, lol).
"Hey, what are you doing?" Big Poppa yelled. "Why is she snapping pictures?" he hollered to his cousin. "What is she doing? Why she taking pictures of the liquor?"
Dang, I thought. Hope Kim say something. Dude must be wanted or something, and I didn't want to end up in a headlock.
"She has a blog, Big Poppa," she said. "She's a blogger."
"Oh, I was about to say," he said.
(Thanks Kim. Thanks for saving an Oldgirl's life).
Big Poppa wanted something to drink. Kim gave him a cup of the hunch punch.
"Uh," he said, pointing at the drink, "Uh, excuse me, but this drink has too much estrogen in it."
"It's hunch punch. It's good," Kim said.
"If I drink this punch, my period's gonna start tomorrow."
We laughed HARD at that. That's the funniest ish I've heard in a very long time.
Kim ran off to get him a harder drink.
Come on, Kim. That is NOT a man's drink. Bud Light with Lime? That still has a feminine touch to it, lol).
The spades game was in full force now.
There was MUCH trash talking going on.
There was some controversery going on involving Kim's BFF of over 20 years deep, "Drea".
An argument ensued. Somebody through out a bad card and didn't catch it.
I didn't have the faintest idea of what they were talking about...
I was just worried about that gangsta Monie Love.
I don't know, man. She was a bit too calm for me. I mean, she had had her say, and made her point, but she was a bit quiet... and she kept winning.
"I am NOT Whitney Houston," she yelled. "Crack is wack!"
"Shut up, Anna Mae Bullock. You're drunk!" Big Poppa yelled.
"Just eat the cake, Anna Mae," I chimed in.
"I am NOT Anna Mae or Whitney Houston," she yelled. "I am not drunk! I'm feeling great!"
(Okay. She lost me with that. But I was rolling with the fact that she was NOT drunk. Just feeling great.)
Big Poppa KEPT talking trash to her. This couldn't be good. She kept wailing.
"I am not drunk! I feel great!"
"I feel lovely. I feel great! I feel really great and really lovely!"
"There's a difference between being drunk and feeling lovely. Right now, I am feeling really lovely."
What the world?
I was down with her loveliness and greatness.
But after she said all of this for the hundreth time, well... let's just say, she had to be drunk (in the most lovely of ways, of course.)
This was incredibly funny to us all. To the point we were all saying it, and have been saying it for days.
It has reached "Food-for-Thought" status for me.... No matter what is going on in life, I will proudly yell
"I feel great! I feel lovely! I feel REALLY great! I feel lovely right now."
(You know, if you say that to yourself a few times a day, it really lifts your spirits. It is a most powerful affirmation. Maybe our Whitney Houston was on to something).
Another of Kim's relatives, and I think this may have been the younger brother of "Big Poppa", showed up...
We will call him, Earl.
He showed up with the cutest little boy.
I was thinking how special to have a father-son outing, even if it is a card party.
"Who's baby is that!" Kim yelled. She went over and picked him up. "Who are you!"
*Little boy smiles with glee*
It was one of Earl's women's kids.
A huge debate ensued, especially amongst us women. We were wondering what kind of broad leaves her baby with a dude? Mind you, this isn't Earl's main squeeze.
But Kim said he brings a different chick around every week. And he's a heartbreaker.
I know the type of chick who would do that. The type that calls up her girls and says "Honey, Earl got my baby. Ya'll come pick me up so we can go to the club."
He was a "doting stepfather", making sure the little boy's shoes were tied, etc. A great babysitter indeed. Little tike got attention from us all. A very happy boy indeed, he was.
Still, we were concerned about the broad who would let her toddler be out at 11 o'clock at night.
(Kim is STILL pissed behind that).
Anyway, Earl brought over some HARD gangsta rap music. Scary stuff. The rappers were calling out all the Atlanta projects, that type of stuff.
I was still watching Monie Love. Making sure the chaos didn't cause her to jump up and pull her weapon(s) out of their hidden places.
And with her as my partner, we won a game.
So, I am officially a "Spades player".
Whoo-Hooo!! It made feel really great... Really lovely. LOL
Monie Love left before midnight. She had a flight to catch out to Texas early the next morning.
It was "business travel", she said.
She had put in a request for chocolate chip pecan cookies. I'd scored a gang of tins earlier that day, and hooked her up. She took her cookies, and jumped in her Volvo sitting on 20s and got the hell out of dodge.
Yeah. Gangsta business, Monie Love. I ain't mad at you, gal. Glad you had a safe trip.
More arguing ensued over the cards. It was too much for me... Me and Net Rock jumped in the Mazda and got the heck on. They decided to play Scrabble.
I got a call while I was out in the car.
Turns out, Drea, aka "Whitney Houston" (her name for the entire night), had played her first word on the scrabble board...
The word "crack". That put all speculation to rest.
That was really lovely... Really great.
I had TOO much fun... Can't wait for the next party! Can't wait.Ya'll have a great weekend.
I hope your weekend is really great... really lovely:)