Sunday, October 23, 2011

I wore a dress. On purpose.

This weekend was the military ball, and contrary to popular belief, I do actually own a formal gown and wore it someplace appropriate.  There's photo documentation, even.  I even did my hair and makeup, and I wore fake eyelashes - and got them on right the first time without getting glue in my eyes or looking like Tammy Faye Bakker!  Usually these events are rather stuffed-shirtish, until someone's wife gets tanked, and then everyone feels free to really not have the slightest shred of decency.  I take that back.  We feel free to talk louder about the people we were whispering about before.

Let's talk about silver dress lady.  First of all, her dress was low-cut enough in back that you could see her crack. Second, I'm pretty sure she thought we were at a Def Leppard concert the way she was whoopin' and hollerin' during the Colonel's speech.  Rock on, you classy thang, you.  She was shithoused to the point where everyone was watching her instead of what we should have been paying attention to.

Some guy proposed to his girlfriend of eight years in front of all 2,000 plus in attendance.  Before you think "how romantic!" I'll remind you that they've dated for EIGHT years.  After three, I would have probably punched this jackhole in the ear and told him to shit or get off the pot.  She said yes.  Like she had a choice in front of all of us.

The venue was amazing, the company was great, we hit downtown and took over a bar, and a great time was had by all.  Even the guy who fell asleep under the table and his face was kind of stuck to the floor.  I really think he probably changed his mind about the great time he thought he had after waking up in a puddle of half-dried goo.  Actually, I'll be surprised if he remembered his own name.

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