I’m not one to brag, but I gotta say: the super-secret birthday blowout I put together for Jonno over the weekend was pretty damn cool. With surprise guests arriving from the other two coasts, numerous great meals, and ringside seats at Saturday’s Big Easy Rollergirls bout, the only thing missing was a couple of trained elephants performing Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song”. (Although from what I hear, my friend Matt’s band now performs a washboard/sousaphone version that’ll soon make the elephants obsolete.)
The highlight was clearly the roller derby. Set among the glittery, papier-mache, Carnival glamour of Mardi Gras World, it was an adrenaline-filled, only-in-New-Orleans spectacle that even had sissies like me leaping to their feet, screaming, “Kill her! Trip her! Knock the bitch out!” But then, girls in bloody Carrie costumes and rollerskates probably have that effect on a lot of people.
The pièce de résistance of that particular evening came when my pals and I tottered out to the car at halftime to replentish our beer supply (from the remains of the tailgate party) and witnessed two lesbians in an F-150 driving smack into my pal Lisa’s Camry as they exited the parking lot. In her PBR-induced stupor, the passenger admitted that she’d been going down on her girlfriend at the time, and that’s what caused the accident. Frankly, I’m not sure what’s worse: the fact that Lisa’s fender fell victim to a sloppy muffdive, or that the only reason we witnessed the accident is because we were too cheap to pony up for beer at the bar.
Anyway, the boyfriend seemed to have a good time, and even took a few pics along the way. Enjoy ’em, then go buy your tickets for the Rollergirls’ November derby before they sell out. Like, seriously. Don’t be stupid, yo.
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