Monday, August 2, 2010

Minor Shenanigans... Six Man 2010

While hoping for a repeat of last year... we ended up with a much more watered down version.  I think we may have suffered from a poor choice of pacing, and *cough* too many newbie relationshiped people in our group.

Getting a late start down to the beach, we thankfully hit very little traffic (aside from the flipped car at the Rosecrans exit) and made it down for our reservations in time.  While searching for a spot, S/E gasped "Look at that man in a purple tank top!!"  K replied... "Girl, if you think that's crazy, you've seen nothing yet."

Walking down to Twelfth & Highland, we were stuck in the midst of a group of giggling girls wearing fairly inappropriate for their bodies bikini's, and lacking footwear of any kind.  (When recounting the story to a friend, he replied... yeah I doubt I would have noticed their feet.)  It just struck me as a recipe for disaster, watching these young & wasted girls prancing around on asphalt littered with broken bottles.  And the girl in a full leg brace?  Not only were her tan lines set up for disaster, one wrong step on a sharp edge & she was doomed for wheelchair-dom, with both legs in casts.  I love me some six man, but not nearly that much.

Once at the restaurant, that was surprisingly empty (it was in between the morning & afternoon parties) we were seated quickly & promptly served many bottles of champagne.  Happy Mimosa Brunch!  Ms. Shenanigan's herself & her girlfriend showed up for a quick round before they headed off to the Paramount Booze Fest.  Within a few minutes the bar quickly filled & we were in the middle of a rager, complete with *Lushness* asses sprinkled throughout the crowd.

On a side note, when Bama came waltzing into the bar, she had a suspiciously fresh line of paint across her mid-section.  Then she did a little spin & announced that it was her new belt!  Leaning against a wet railing wasn't nearly enough.  She had to even it out.  Now if she'd only rolled in the paint then she would have been sporting "couture".  

Satisfied with our intoxication levels, we headed down to the beach to finally watch some of the tournament.  At the top of the pier, I'd gotten a text from my friend DK saying he was nearby.  This promptly started our chants of DK!  DK!  DK!  It would have been a hell of a lot more awesome had he miraculously materialized, instead of the true meaning of his message which was that he was in Manhattan Beach (which is a PRETTY BIG area.)

To go down to the beach, we realized that we'd either have to ditch our bottled beverages or chug them quickly.  That's when we lost our first two, P & D, who decided that they'd rather nurse their quart beverages on the other side of the pier, rather than hang out with the volleyball gods.  Another two hurried down, while S/E, M & I went in search of restrooms.  Thankfully no one peed on me this time... but as S/E failed to figure out the sink situation, she yelled out to M "Pump for me Milkmaid!"  Apparently M's favorite quote of the day.

We continued our search for both DK, as well as a mysterious J who claimed she was at court 32 (which was REALLY far down the beach.) but instead ran into a couple who was begging for S/E to pour water on the girl's white bikini top.  She'd claimed that she'd spilled juice on her top... but I'm still not sold on the story.  She enjoyed it way too much.  As did her husband.

Finally we found the DK chilling at the beach, & the girls found some Stanford boys to tease.  That was fun for a little while, but then Bama & K started drunk dialing us with their flask o'vodka on the side of the boardwalk.

So we headed back up to the Strand, but when Bama & K stopped answering their phones, we decided to crash some house parties instead.

"So... Is this (Insert Miscellaneous Boy's Name)'s Party?"
"Do you know Scott?"
"Do you?"
"Um.  Can we see if Scott is inside?"
"I won't tell if you don't..."

And voila.  The boys who had obviously crashed the party as well let us into "Scott's" house.  We quickly moved to the back & using the "lost & looking for the restroom" technique, we stumbled into the back of the house where they were storing the booze.  And jello shots. Served to us by a rather large man.  And then the tinkerbell faeries flew in.  And then we talked to an army cameo girl.  With a utility belt. And a keg man.  And some "cougars" complete with boy toy belts.  And then we decided it was time to leave.

Just down the road, we found Bama & K nursing a flask of vodka poured heavily into a Cactus Cooler container.  Even with our jello shots under our belt, they were much further down the booze train.  We tried to play "Have you met my friend Melody," but of course with little success.  I even matched her with someone equally as striped, albeit missing the line of paint.  But nope, in typical Bama fashion, she ran away within moments of being left alone.

Then there was Joe.  Don't remember him appearing, no idea what they were talking about, but I do know digits were exchanged and an invite was extended to his "house party" on Aviation.  (Which for those of you who don't know, is NOT on the beach. Not anywhere close to the beach.)  Being the good japanese tourist, I snapped several photos, with him even exclaiming "Paparazzi!" and posing for the camera.

We took shots out of a ski.  Yep.

Then a very sleepy duo of P & D showed up, now ready to party.  Apparently 10AM really was too early of a call time.  Re-amassed, we headed down to 15th & Manhattan where J had texted she was rooftop partying.  Standing on a corner & yelling her name as well did not yield the desired results.  Oh well, I tried.  Plus Justin Bobby & JC showed up right then and wanted to hit up Wahoos for some tacos.  And we needed to try for at least one Keith Manchester spotting.

On the way, we did meet who we will now refer to as Keith Manchester 2010 version.

Once you've wiped away the drool, I'm afraid I have no stories to share.  Something happened, and soon enough we were on our way again.

Wahoos was delicious as always, and after camping out on the sidewalk and getting our grub on, we were ready to hit some more house parties!

or not.

Coupledom reared its love-struck head.  (And I know she'll deny, but I was there, and mostly sober for this moment.)  K missed her A, and considering Bama was the only one fully intent on partying on Aviation, with the rest of us at a "could go either way" feeling, we packed up camp and headed home.

But not before P found herself a little swing.

All in all a very enjoyable day... but minor in comparison to last year.  I guess it's hard to duplicate EPIC two years in a row. What does that mean?  2011, watch out.  I'm coming for YOU.

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