Monday, September 17, 2007

The weekend in pictures

Some of you have remarked that your lives are "boring" (your words, not mine) and that you enjoy living vicariously through me, so I thought you should know that you had a pretty good weekend:

Saturday 7am - Coffee and morning paper on the terrace. A bit chilly. Notice that the garden is pretty much dead and it's probably a good day for the big fall cleanup. But you're not really in the mood for that, so you do nothing about it.

Saturday 8am - Check out the Belgian Grand Prix F1 qualifying sessions. Kimi takes the pole!

Daydream about taking Kimi's pole.

Saturday 3pm - Country karaoke with Sweet Daddy Siki. You don't sing because you don't know any lyrics to country songs. When someone tells you that's no excuse, since the lyrics are on a TV screen in front of you, you quickly diffuse the situation by confessing that you can't read. They don't believe you, so you insist that you cannot see. And you also have a cold and you're losing your voice. And your religion strictly prohibits the singing of country music.

Saturday 8pm - the karaoke party moves down the street 2 blocks and merges with a lesbian BBQ. It's Jamie's birthday! Ryan bakes a homemade birthday cake from scratch, decorated with a lucha mask because Jamie loves the Wrasslin', and you silently ponder what it would be like to be that talented. Eat some cake. Eat another piece of cake for Pistols, because he would've wanted it that way.

Saturday 9:15pm -Feel slightly disappointed that it's too cold outside for the usual tit parade. Settle for staring at tattoos of boobs instead.

Saturday 11pm - You discover a new technique for poaching fish!

Seafood lovers rejoice!

Sunday 7:30am - Belgian Grand Prix F1 race. Quite exciting, especially given the FIA's decision last Thursday to strip the McLaren team of their 2007 constructor points as a result of the espionage scandal. Kimi wins! Massa comes in second, giving Ferrari a 1-2 finish and closing the points gap in the Driver Championship. You feel an odd craving for champagne...

Sunday 11am - brunch with Jamie and Jules to continue the birthday fun. You are served by the Most Beautiful Waiter You've Ever Seen. He's wicked gay but knows how to work a drooling straight girl for a decent tip. You drink one too many champagne and OJ's, leading you to decide it will be more fun to go back to Jamie's for more cocktails than that other thing you planned to do today: clean your apartment.

Sunday 3pm - Realize your friends' dog is more fashionable than you, and feel a bit sorry for yourself. Take notes from the dog on what's hot for fall.

Sunday 4pm - go home and take a short nap to sleep off the mild brunch buzz.

Sunday 5pm - housework time. Mentally write "help wanted" ad for attractive male domestic assistant, but get stuck on the word you would use for a male version of "maid": Butler? (too formal) Houseboy? (too gay) Manservant? (sounds like that douchebag who follows P. Diddy around)

Sunday 8pm - friends drop in to watch the Emmys and help you make fun of celebrities and other showbiz folks that you don't really recognize because you don't watch their crappy shows. Ryan Seacrest totally irritates you. You vow (again) to never watch awards shows. Ever! You really mean it this time!


Beth said...

You are livin' la vida loca! I spent my weekend prone, reading and napping and noshing.

Beth said...

BTW, Jack totally owns that skirt look. Who needs Nina Garcia?

T said...

If I was your houseboy, I'd be more afraid of Kimi than being called 'gay'.

Grant Miller said...

The Emmys were last night?

Snooze said...

Awesome post Kat. I was tired after just reading your schedule.

pistols at dawn said...

If my boring life and comments on same are enough to get just one person to eat some f-ing Mexican wrestler-mask-themed cake for me, then my work here is done. I don't want to tip my hand here, but my Friday night involved going to bed at I am the lamest person in the universe.

Dale said...

I may be lame but I know enough to stay away from O.J. He's bad news Kat!

CoffeeDog said...

LOL, the emmys are so lame!

The Guv'ner said...

I read everything but my brain sort of stopped at the CAKE. Not even the words "Rush Limbaugh's Scrotum"iced on a cake would stop me from devouring it. (The know)

Your weekend rocked. Mine more sort of sang a weak folk song then moved on to a hot chocolate and bed.

Chris said...

Speaking of folk songs... I was thinking of naming my little jam band "Mr. Guthrie's Little Woody." Too esoteric? Would anyone get the reference? Or should we stick with "Buster Hyman and the Penetrators?"

Boldly Serving Up Wheat Grass said...

If I manage to go my entire life without hearing "Country karaoke with Sweet Daddy Siki," I may spend my last few living moments, hopefully at some ripe old age, adopting some form of religion just so that I can thank some omnipotent God for keeping me from experiencing that.