08 September 2018
926
R. Linda:
Well, here's a tale for you. Let's start with Anne Marie DelVecchio, not her real name but good enough, and my apologies to any Anne Marie DelVecchios out there. It all came down (as the millennials say), with a birthday party for Anne Marie. Before I step further down the story let me preface this by saying, Anne Marie be a wee bit of a control freak she be, even her own birthday celebration she had to take in hand and organise to the last. Her husband, Dominic (not his real name), decided after ten years of marriage not to interfere. This year Anne Marie was turning 36 and at that age you'd think Anne Marie had done some learning. But alas, not so much.
Anne Marie decided this year to have a small celebration of her girlfriends they all being big fans of all the House Wives series. They rather all thought of themselves as Jersey girls and that each of their important lives was deserving a reality show. However, none knew how to go about that sort of thing, so instead, they decided between them that they would treat their get-togethers like they actually were on a reality show with thousands if not millions of viewers.
This meant that hair, makeup, clothing, jewellery and in some cases husbands, were groomed to the nines.
"Ey, we should all look like rich bitches." Carmen Cignarella announced when this idea was being bandied around.
"Yeh, we should have our nails done and stuff and even have one of us film each episode on our cell phone." This said by Loi DelCampo.
"I like it, lets do that girls, we deserve it." Anne Marie stated and that was the beginning.
So when it came to Anne Marie's birthday she decided to spend it with her "show mates" as she called them, the family could wait. First she wanted a big bash with the girls and she'd worry about her kids, husband and family later. So she got everything together and it was decided they'd have this bash not in a restaurant but at Anne Marie's house.
Ah the house, the house was this split level affair built in the 1970s and from the outside it was no great digs but holy cow the inside was decked out in red wall paper, the wood painted gilt gold, large reproduction cardboard paintings of fruit and flowers on the flocked walls in gold frames, of course. The furniture was in red velvets, black velvet drapes, lots of plump velvet throw pillows with glitzy fringe, I mean it looked like a bordello. But to the "girls" it was the height of elegant living.
So the scene be set if you will, canapes and sandwiches with all the trimmings, lots of wine, red, white, rose', and plenty of bejewelled and coiffed to the hilt women ready to party on. Things went rosy the whole way through, not a hitch in the entertainment which consisted of a Magic Mike performance by three dudes from the dancing school down the road. Oh yeah the ladies were in stripper heaven.
The champagne flowed, the laughter got boisterous and more frequent, the voices got louder and you could say they were all floating in wine by the time cake was ready to be served and presents opened.
If you were there you'd say these chicks were high on themselves and the acting was quite something to behold with one of them pretending to get angry and pull the tablecloth out from under the plates of the others. Crockery and food went everywhere, but this shenanigan was expected and the glitter dresses were saved when Rosie Klunghoffer announced she didn't need no "stinkin' cake," the cue for everyone to back away from the table. Once this manoeuvre was pulled off (in this case not very well), Dominique Dubois tore off her dress and in her silk undies lay down in the pate and cocktail sauce to roll around like a poodle. What brought that on, one can only surmise or dismiss as nothing more than Dominque's ego to show off the 20 pounds she dropped in her Victoria Secret underwear.
But wait, it gets better (well not better, more bizarre and not a little bit scary if not tragical). Once they pulled Dominque off the floor and towelled her down, they had another round of champagne. I'd like to say Dominque wasn't standing around in her underwear, but she was, towel turbaned on her head, chandelier earrings winking in the bright lights. After a few more glasses of the bubbly stuff Carman wanted cake because she was "starting" to feel woozy. Starting? Yeah well, that's what she said. Everyone chimed in and they sat back down at the table, forks in hand and started pounding the tabletop and chanting, "CAKE, CAKE, CAKE!" To which forthwith, Anne Marie grabbed her bff, Lori DelCampo and into the kitchen they went.
The cake, a piled high with whipped cream number that resembled more a wedding cake than a birthday cake, was set on a high standing platter.
"Canndles, we need da canndles." Lori said, the emphasis on the word can in candles. "I'll get the coughfee on while you get the CANNdles." Coughfee the New Jersey girl word for coffee.
While Lori made the coughfee, sorry coffee, Anne Marie realised she forgot to buy CANNdles, I mean candles. What to do? Well, Anne Marie saw a red taper on the sunporch, so she went and got it, plopped it on top of the cake and declared she was a "one canndle kinda girl."
Since it took both of them to lift the cake, they decided to light the taper once they had set the gigantic conglomeration on the table. This they did to oohs and ahhs.
"What happened ta da 36 canndles?"Rosie asked.
"Whadda I need 36 canndles when I got one giant one." Anne Marie quipped.
"Well Anne Marie dats da sorriest lookin' canndle I ever seen." Rosie said.
"Ugh enough already." Anne Marie said flicking on the propane stick, she leaned in toward the cake and with a fizz sound the wick took light then the flame died and it looked for all intents and purposes like a sparkler. Well, it did until it went boom! Somewhere around the second chorus of Happy Birthday the cake suddenly exploded, but not without a casualty. I am sorry to say that at the very last minute Anne Marie realised it was no sparkler, it was a stick of dynamite. Yes, R. Linda, it blew Anne Marie's fingers off, put a hole through the roof, damaged the house to where the structure is in question, blackened everything within a radius of 2 feet, including the "girls" and every window in the house and the entire block was blown out. All the girls are pretty deaf from the blast, but otherwise somehow survived it. Can't say as much for Anne Marie. Besides losing every finger on her right hand, and being deaf as a doorpost, and losing her house, she be pretty banged and burned up. How could the other "girls" get away with just one injury to their hearing you ask, well all that whipped cream bathed them in a thick coating of insulation that only when the whipped cream melted off (which was rather quickly) did they discover their skin, hair, and dresses were soot covered.
I tell ya R. Linda, let this be a warning, don't go to any Jersey Girl parties . . . EVAH (as they say in Jersey).
Note: You want to know where the dynamite stick came from? Well, that's a story in itself. Around the fourth of July, there was some construction work being done on a highway behind Anne Marie's house. They were blowing up boulders for a new exit. It seems Anne Marie's laborpoodle went over the hill after the blasting was done for the day and found a red stick. The animal put it between its teeth and took it home. The next day was fourth of July and Anne Marie and family had a cookout complete with fireworks. Well, the dog must have decided he could add more excitement to the party and went for the stick which he deposited at Dominic's feet. Dominic and his buddies knew immediately what it was. Not wanting to alarm the "ladies" they stuck it on a shelf in the sunroom, where they promptly forgot about it. In her haste to find a candle, and being quite a ways in her cups, Anne Marie mistook the dynamite stick for a red taper. There ya go! Not only was Anne Marie guilty of the stupids so was her hubby and his friends. Forget the dog.
Gabe
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
926
R. Linda:
Well, here's a tale for you. Let's start with Anne Marie DelVecchio, not her real name but good enough, and my apologies to any Anne Marie DelVecchios out there. It all came down (as the millennials say), with a birthday party for Anne Marie. Before I step further down the story let me preface this by saying, Anne Marie be a wee bit of a control freak she be, even her own birthday celebration she had to take in hand and organise to the last. Her husband, Dominic (not his real name), decided after ten years of marriage not to interfere. This year Anne Marie was turning 36 and at that age you'd think Anne Marie had done some learning. But alas, not so much.
Anne Marie decided this year to have a small celebration of her girlfriends they all being big fans of all the House Wives series. They rather all thought of themselves as Jersey girls and that each of their important lives was deserving a reality show. However, none knew how to go about that sort of thing, so instead, they decided between them that they would treat their get-togethers like they actually were on a reality show with thousands if not millions of viewers.
This meant that hair, makeup, clothing, jewellery and in some cases husbands, were groomed to the nines.
"Ey, we should all look like rich bitches." Carmen Cignarella announced when this idea was being bandied around.
"Yeh, we should have our nails done and stuff and even have one of us film each episode on our cell phone." This said by Loi DelCampo.
"I like it, lets do that girls, we deserve it." Anne Marie stated and that was the beginning.
So when it came to Anne Marie's birthday she decided to spend it with her "show mates" as she called them, the family could wait. First she wanted a big bash with the girls and she'd worry about her kids, husband and family later. So she got everything together and it was decided they'd have this bash not in a restaurant but at Anne Marie's house.
Ah the house, the house was this split level affair built in the 1970s and from the outside it was no great digs but holy cow the inside was decked out in red wall paper, the wood painted gilt gold, large reproduction cardboard paintings of fruit and flowers on the flocked walls in gold frames, of course. The furniture was in red velvets, black velvet drapes, lots of plump velvet throw pillows with glitzy fringe, I mean it looked like a bordello. But to the "girls" it was the height of elegant living.
So the scene be set if you will, canapes and sandwiches with all the trimmings, lots of wine, red, white, rose', and plenty of bejewelled and coiffed to the hilt women ready to party on. Things went rosy the whole way through, not a hitch in the entertainment which consisted of a Magic Mike performance by three dudes from the dancing school down the road. Oh yeah the ladies were in stripper heaven.
The champagne flowed, the laughter got boisterous and more frequent, the voices got louder and you could say they were all floating in wine by the time cake was ready to be served and presents opened.
If you were there you'd say these chicks were high on themselves and the acting was quite something to behold with one of them pretending to get angry and pull the tablecloth out from under the plates of the others. Crockery and food went everywhere, but this shenanigan was expected and the glitter dresses were saved when Rosie Klunghoffer announced she didn't need no "stinkin' cake," the cue for everyone to back away from the table. Once this manoeuvre was pulled off (in this case not very well), Dominique Dubois tore off her dress and in her silk undies lay down in the pate and cocktail sauce to roll around like a poodle. What brought that on, one can only surmise or dismiss as nothing more than Dominque's ego to show off the 20 pounds she dropped in her Victoria Secret underwear.
But wait, it gets better (well not better, more bizarre and not a little bit scary if not tragical). Once they pulled Dominque off the floor and towelled her down, they had another round of champagne. I'd like to say Dominque wasn't standing around in her underwear, but she was, towel turbaned on her head, chandelier earrings winking in the bright lights. After a few more glasses of the bubbly stuff Carman wanted cake because she was "starting" to feel woozy. Starting? Yeah well, that's what she said. Everyone chimed in and they sat back down at the table, forks in hand and started pounding the tabletop and chanting, "CAKE, CAKE, CAKE!" To which forthwith, Anne Marie grabbed her bff, Lori DelCampo and into the kitchen they went.
The cake, a piled high with whipped cream number that resembled more a wedding cake than a birthday cake, was set on a high standing platter.
"Canndles, we need da canndles." Lori said, the emphasis on the word can in candles. "I'll get the coughfee on while you get the CANNdles." Coughfee the New Jersey girl word for coffee.
While Lori made the coughfee, sorry coffee, Anne Marie realised she forgot to buy CANNdles, I mean candles. What to do? Well, Anne Marie saw a red taper on the sunporch, so she went and got it, plopped it on top of the cake and declared she was a "one canndle kinda girl."
Since it took both of them to lift the cake, they decided to light the taper once they had set the gigantic conglomeration on the table. This they did to oohs and ahhs.
"What happened ta da 36 canndles?"Rosie asked.
"Whadda I need 36 canndles when I got one giant one." Anne Marie quipped.
"Well Anne Marie dats da sorriest lookin' canndle I ever seen." Rosie said.
"Ugh enough already." Anne Marie said flicking on the propane stick, she leaned in toward the cake and with a fizz sound the wick took light then the flame died and it looked for all intents and purposes like a sparkler. Well, it did until it went boom! Somewhere around the second chorus of Happy Birthday the cake suddenly exploded, but not without a casualty. I am sorry to say that at the very last minute Anne Marie realised it was no sparkler, it was a stick of dynamite. Yes, R. Linda, it blew Anne Marie's fingers off, put a hole through the roof, damaged the house to where the structure is in question, blackened everything within a radius of 2 feet, including the "girls" and every window in the house and the entire block was blown out. All the girls are pretty deaf from the blast, but otherwise somehow survived it. Can't say as much for Anne Marie. Besides losing every finger on her right hand, and being deaf as a doorpost, and losing her house, she be pretty banged and burned up. How could the other "girls" get away with just one injury to their hearing you ask, well all that whipped cream bathed them in a thick coating of insulation that only when the whipped cream melted off (which was rather quickly) did they discover their skin, hair, and dresses were soot covered.
I tell ya R. Linda, let this be a warning, don't go to any Jersey Girl parties . . . EVAH (as they say in Jersey).
Note: You want to know where the dynamite stick came from? Well, that's a story in itself. Around the fourth of July, there was some construction work being done on a highway behind Anne Marie's house. They were blowing up boulders for a new exit. It seems Anne Marie's laborpoodle went over the hill after the blasting was done for the day and found a red stick. The animal put it between its teeth and took it home. The next day was fourth of July and Anne Marie and family had a cookout complete with fireworks. Well, the dog must have decided he could add more excitement to the party and went for the stick which he deposited at Dominic's feet. Dominic and his buddies knew immediately what it was. Not wanting to alarm the "ladies" they stuck it on a shelf in the sunroom, where they promptly forgot about it. In her haste to find a candle, and being quite a ways in her cups, Anne Marie mistook the dynamite stick for a red taper. There ya go! Not only was Anne Marie guilty of the stupids so was her hubby and his friends. Forget the dog.
Gabe
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
12 comments:
Roflmao I'm sorry, but stupi makes me laugh!
I assume someone filmed all that until things literally went black?
Don't Jersey girls say YEEAH instead of yeh or yeah? I can't tell a Jersey girl from a New York City girl. They sound the same. I for one like big hair and fat fishy lips, LMAO. I also like circus clowns directing traffic and dogs wearing tutus. Yes I do. LOLOLOLOL A couple drinks too many Gabe! And Saturday night is young yet.
LMAO oh my but we are close to spelling the beans aren't we?
I would assume as well.
Hey come pick me up you sound like you are well on the way to hilarity. I don't share the circus clown like, but I do like people who carry service turtles on airplanes. Just as long as I don't have to sit next to them.
One more thing, YOU ARE DANGEROUS.
And the big hair Gabe. He likes BIG hair!! 🙄
Was he not being sarcasttic?
Yup, so was I lol
You go for weeks no stories, then it's story after story like boom, boom, boom! Excuse the pun. What is worse than clowns directing traffic, is pigs on skateboards. Knock you right off the pavement.
I do not.
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