Let’s just say that I am no spring chicken, nor have I ever been to the principal’s office (well… not because of ME), nor have I ever been to a kind-of party where The Law has been summoned.
UNTIL this weekend.
It all started innocently enough. My friend. Her 40th. Black-bottom cupcakes. Cute decorations.
Margaritas. Beer… Basic party-hydration needs were met.
A DJ… who loved me who took requests…
Firemen!
I’d say probably half a department’s worth of firemen, medics, etc… were at this party, ladies.
I know. You’re hyperventilating and thinking, “I WANT HER LIFE.”
BUT THAT’S NOT ALL!!!
There was chalk!
A microphone… on which I may or may not, but MAY have sung Ice Ice Baby… And Eminem’s Lose Yourself… because I was a white rapper guy in my past life, I just know it…
There was adequate signeage that made me snortle like an 8th grade boy…
There was a grill the size of an Old Testament altar!!!
We were safe though, because… in case I forgot to mention – FIREMEN.
Aaaaaaaaanywho.
THERE WAS A GLUTEN, DAIRY, EGG AND SOY-FREE SECTION!!! This party was thah shizzle! Ain’t nobody havin’ no allergic reactions at this party, yo!!!
One thing lead to another and before we knew it… the clock struck 11 and the popo stood at the door of the barn/shop on account of the very loud Vanilla Ice, Guns & Roses, Lady Gaga, and whohavesyou…
The Lawman: If I have to come back, I’ll have to fine you $250.
One of the firemen attendees queried: What if we just pay you now, then you won’t have to come back?
I like these people. These are good people.
Fear not, law abiding citizens… we turned down the noise and kept our money… But what’s a party to do when the volume goes from an 11 to, say a 6 or a 7?
It was time to deal with leftover slices of cheese from the deli-try, yo!
A.K.A. CHEESE SLAPPIN’
In 3,2,1…
SHIRTLESS FIREMEN
*I will give you ladies a few moments to pause*
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Shirtless firemen …slapping each otherssssesss chests and backs with leftover deli-tray cheese.
And there may or may not have been a leftover boneless, skinless BBQd chicken thigh tossed about as well…
And my husband was there too, lest you cast judgement on my judgement as a married woman…
He even earned HIS very own cheese welt. But THAT picture is just for us.
BEST. PARTY. EVER.
P.S. This wasn’t my birthday party {HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARA!!!!}… but I wish it was. I mean, really… c’mon who get’s to have a party like that?
SARA does. That’s who.
