Tuesday, June 01, 2010

The Memorial Day BBQ

I am just exhausted from the weekend and I think I won't eat BBQed anything for quite a while. My hair still reeks of smoke! But hey, I accomplished my goal of learning how to smoke meat. I can do it and something about knowing my way around a smoker makes me feel like a real woman. I think it's kind of hot to know how to smoke meat.

As I had mentioned before, my Uncle, the political activist, came down from Millpond to throw a fundraiser at my parents' house for his charity, which gives money and necessities directly to wounded soldiers and their families at Walter Reed hospital. Someone mentioned in the comments that Walter Reed is closing and I asked my uncle and he said he doesn't think it will close anytime soon, but if it does, then he will move his operation to Bethesda if they will let him, which he thinks they will. For now though, the hospital is open and there are a lot of injured people, mostly kids, who could use some help, so we wanted to do what we could. Certainly, living down here in South Florida, we know a bunch of rich fools whom we hoped would be willing to shell out for something a little more meaningful than the newest monstrosity of a Louis Vuitton bag or a day at the mall for the latest Brazilian trophy wife.

This was our first attempt at a fundraiser and we learned some valuable lessons from it so that next time, we think we can improve upon things. Overall we had a nice evening. The food was great, cooked by my uncle, and a local diner donated several pies, cupcakes and brownies for dessert. We invited everyone we knew and told them to invite whomever they wanted. This might have been a mistake. 

We had about 150 guests and raised $3,000.00. We had honestly hoped for more, considering how much money many of these guests waste on a regular basis, but we were happyStill, I'm a little disappointed because a lot of the people who came were just low class users and leeches looking for a party with free food and booze and had zero interest in donating anything.

But they weren't the only guests. Most of the neighbors came, a local politician showed up because he's running for office right now, and most of our more decent, normal friends made appearances as well.

Of course there were a bunch of Brazilian hookers led by Gabriella K. You may remember her. I've been writing about her skin tight leopard print outfits for years. She was once married to the man who introduced my husband and I, but she fleeced him and divorced him and then took off with her divorce attorney. He beat her up, they had an on again off again thing for a couple years and she started working for the neighborhood Madam Velva Haux, flying up to the DC area to bed politicians. She slinks her way around town in five inch clear heels, stopping in at every party she can find, along with four or five of her clones. They scout out the crowd for rich old men and then leave early if they don't find any new blood. 

Vinny Succatella, that scumbag, also made a grand entrance with a tiny, silent Asian girl on his arm. You might remember him from the "birthday" party he decided to throw at my parents' house last November in which there were fireworks and a white horse in the front yard. Remember that disaster? I haven't seen him since the "birthday" party, in which I am loathe to confess my extreme enjoyment of the white horse. In just six short months, Vinny seems to have 1. managed to make himself look, act and sound even more like Pauly Shore than he did before and 2. meet, date and marry a tiny, silent Asian girl who is actually very pretty and possibly twelve years old. Don't ask me. She never unhooked herself from his arm the whole night while he strolled around, coked out and twitching, with an empty bottle of Perrier Jouet in his free hand. All night he told everyone who would listen that just last week he had his appendix out and then he tried to rope them into investing into his latest shady stock deal which probably involves a company that doesn't actually exist.  I can probably guess how much Vinny donated. You can probably guess how much I can't stand him.


I'm equally not fond of Big Nort, our resident VH1 reality star who is now only loosely disguised, being that he was on TV and all. Or at least he was until his roommate hacked up a stripper and threw her in a dumpster because of course I would have only one degree of separation from something like that.


Big Nort, I believe, in his own contorted way, means well, but he just hangs around such unbelievably low class people and brings them over. I don't think he knows they are low class. There are some people who believe that class has to do with the amount of money one has, but it really doesn't at all. There are profoundly low class, trashy, filthy human beings with a lot of money. These are all Big Nort's friends and he brought some to the party and yes they may be stinking rich, but they are also vile and skeezy. Because you know, things like porn, white collar crime, drug dealing and gambling can make a lot of money.


Early in the evening a huge yacht, which I christened the SS Golden Shower, decided to pull up and dock in our backyard, but the boat was too big for our slip and overlapped into Lupo Lama's yard and knocked a light off of one of his pilings. Not ok. Remember, Lupo is the crazy neighbor who, in January, married a woman who looks like a blow up doll? You can read all about that wedding in the January archives.


Once the Golden Shower docked, the full cast of all three Austin Powers films stepped off and proceeded to crash our Memorial Day Fundraiser. This was more not ok than the massive yacht breaking Lupo Lama's dock light. 


The owner of the Golden Shower is an apparently wealthy fool who inherited several hundred million dollars, has never functioned in any normal capacity in his entire life, and who looks exactly like Austin Powers. For someone with so much in his offshore accounts, one would think he could have found a toupee that didn't look like a rust colored, shag carpet toilet seat cover, circa 1970. Captain Shower also wore huge, 70s style, gold framed glasses with rose colored lenses. 


Mrs. Shower wasn't much better. She was tall and scrawny, high on something and needed her roots done. She had somehow jammed herself into a mini skirt several sizes too small and her makeup was running all over her face. Her eyes went in every direction except what she was trying to look at and she wobbled like a bobble-head doll.


The rest of the boat people (at least 30 of them) consisted of hookers, trannies and dirty old men. It was a hot mess and a half and of course Big Nort had invited them all. And of course they didn't donate a cent.


At one point Husband overheard a conversation between one of the dirty old men and Captain Showers that went like so.


DOM - Are we going to stay here all night? 


CS - No, of course not. We're going to the fetish party.


DOM - Oh, no I didn't bring my outfit.


CS - Not to worry. We have a whole closet full of costumes on the boat.


DOM - Oh thank God because I can't go to the fetish party without my leather.


So. Yeah.


Does it surprise you one iota that Gabriella K. and her troop of gold diggers left shortly thereafter on this boat?


Nothing surprises me anymore.

10 comments:

Melanie said...

"Once the Golden Shower docked, the full cast of all three Austin Powers films stepped off and proceeded to crash our Memorial Day Fundraiser."

Best. Blog. Sentence. Ever. Written!

Miss Melissa said...

Your weekend was made of win, smoke scented hair and freak parade nonwithstanding.

catherine said...

You gotta learn to work the crowd at these things. If they got money, there are ways of getting them to part with it. If you can't guilt them into giving, play one off of the other by saying how "generous "Bob" was to our fundraiser, Ohh I'm so excited about how bighearted everyone has been!"
These twits hate being shown up by anyone and will give out of spite,lol.
Hey, Money is money,lol.

JDogg said...

I love it. Simply stunning - wish that I could have been there.

Rosie-b said...

I have to say that in the past I have taken your stories with a grain of salt. Then I visited south Florida for the first time. Good lord, the tackiness was just floating around in the air like smog! I saw a house with full-size, life-like roman soldier statues on the most ridiculous fence I have ever laid eyes on and far too many deep-brown old men with potbellies in snake-skin speedos. I will never doubt you again. Keep up the good work and congrats on the pregnancy!

Wide Lawns said...

Rosie, a lot of people have said that to me. I guess this place is hard to believe until you see it with your own eyes. I have the opposite reaction. When I leave South Florida, I'm always amazed at how normal people are in other places.

♥ Calamity Anne ♥ said...

And I thought my weekend was a thumbs up hanging out at the pool! You trump me tenfold!

Anonymous said...

I used to live in South Florida. One of the things I miss most - grocery stores: the old Jewish ladies who would give me shit if I picked up a cantaloupe that did not meet their expectations as far as fruit goes.

~Maureen~

JoeinVegas said...

You do have such interesting friends

Anonymous said...

"She was once married to the man who introduced my husband and I...."

Hello, it's "me" not "I." I am really enjoying your blog, but the occasional grammatical errors really annoy me. I am assuming you know better and just slipped, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt.

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