Folks often tell me that I act like my aunt Crazy Pants (I mean obvies, look at the jazz hands!).
The past few years for both of us have been nothing but a shit show (to put it mildly0 and she has been dealt yet another large blow in the last few days. Due to the fact that she’s spunky, with a ‘fuck this shit’ attitude (yeah, we’re waaaaay similar), reality is what it is and we’ll deal.
We could be known as Thelma and Louise (but we’re not as cool and fabulous – we wouldn’t drive off a cliff on purpose, we’d do it because we were lost and missed a turn) although we more often times resemble Lucy and Ethel (on our best days) but in reality we can most identify with Dumb and Dumber.
Of all of the things we have in common, we share a love of Jell-O shots which are a staple at every family gathering (classy, I know) and party I throw.
I mean we really love the spiked gelatin.
Our consumption of Jell-O shots makes us both more limber (until we wake up the next morning and can’t move).
However, I do not ever try to do tricks with my shots of liquor. There’s too much risk that it won’t make it to my mouth, which in my mind would be a travesty.
Upon making sure that whipped cream was ground into my carpet (thus I will not be getting my deposit back), Aunt Crazy Pants decided to go on a path of destruction in my mini manse by taking her tipsy ass into my beloved dressing room.
This wing of my mini manse is home to my two shoe towers (and no, I still don’t have too many shoes Dad and yes folks, I do wear all of them).
All was well in my closet kingdom until this tiny bull walked into my sparkly china shop and decided to trip into one of my towers that was bolted to the wall. The shelving quickly turned into a leaning tower of shoes, as it had about six inches in between the wall and the back of the racks.
We then had to call in Camo during our girls night in to put a temporary band aid on the problem so we wouldn’t be making any trips to the emergency room with stories of shoe boxes falling onto our heads.
When Camo was rewarded with a beer, Aunt Crazy Pants tried to show her gratitude by mauling him.
L-Dawg came in to save the day (and Camo’s dignity) by wrangling Crazy Pants with a dish towel.
For the next eight minutes, all was good in my mini manse hood until this happened….
There was no turning back once she was out of Jell-O shots, so we put a boa on her and made her dance (and we have videos to prove it).
I’m happy to report that the mini manse is still standing. But I’m certain that’s due to the fact that Aunt Crazy Pants went home.
Although now that’s she’s home, we need good juju, fabulous magic, positive vibes, abundant karma – and for anyone who lives close enough, margaritas delivered to her house.
Cheers to Aunt Crazy Pants!
You are so loved.
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