In Which They Went to Pittsburgh.

Okay. So this is around a month late in coming, but I've been too busy playing my new cat game, "Almost Chase the Wad of Scrap Paper," to do any serious blogging or photo-uploading. But the Double Decker Moron Sammich that lives with me took a trip to Pittsburgh a few weeks ago, and they didn't even invite me. Which is strange, because, of the three of us, I'm the only one who (maybe) was bornded there.

Anyway, here are a zillion photos that T.O.C.E. took of their various escapades. The only thing these shots prove is that most of her friends are much cuter than she is.

Observe:
This is Pugzly, a lordly overseer and commander of The Ones Called Alexi and Chloe. For some reason, Pugz has made the unlikely decision to enjoy H.W.D.N.T.B.N.'s company. Ah well. We all have our inexplicable missteps. Pugzly is one of three cats in this house, where T.O.C.E. and H.W. Blabbity Blah stayed for their vacation. And by their vacation I mean my own. Thanks for taking 'em off my hands, Pugz.

Here we see H.W. Yaddayadda's arm, The One Called Alexi's sugar gams, Mala the Warden Cat, and the entire lexicon of The One Called William Shakespeare, printed alphabetically on enormous broadsides.

And here are the gams of My Everlasting Torment, flanking the wild gesticulations of The One Called Alexi. He is in the throes of assembling some very ambitious human performance art involving a huge seesaw-like platform, a boat, a million books, and a script written on a million foot long mobius strip of paper, fed into two typewriter reels. That sounds almost as fun as "Almost Chase the Wad of Scrap Paper."

Pittsburghier and Pittsburghier

Below, the One Called Alexi engages in an ancient Pittsburgh Monday-night ritual known as The Sleaze, where, from 11 o'clock until a million o'clock, a fairly cool organism (for a human) plays several dozen instruments and, for some reason, encourages T.O.C.E.'s histrionic-ass friends to sing into a microphone.

T.O.C.A. is either singing "This is a Man's World" or "Yummy Yummy Yummy" or "Muskrat Love." It all sounds the same to me.

This studmuffin bares the sad shame of once being in a band with T.O.C.E. called "Baby Monkey in a Diaper." Whenever the two of them see eachother, there is much jumping around and bumping into things and breaking of inexpensive sunglasses.

Here he is, being forced to sing the entire Who catalogue. Whenever he assumes his RNR persona, people start breaking chairs. It's quite a sight to behold, especially if you're like me and enjoy destruction. Damn, baby! Howdya get into them jeans?

The One Called Carp, secret musical theatre junkie, sings his signature, "I'm Just a Girl Who Can't Say No." It's funny cause it's true. I mean, look at him! Hussy.

And here is the chairman of evil, The One Called Patio Furniture, trying to get out of singing "Regulator," and failing. The guy next to him is called Cookie, and he loves pretending to be Michael Macdonald. One time Patio Furniture and T.O.C.E. ended up in a hotel room Cookie had rented. It had a hot tub in the middle of it and a whole bunch of women's underthings on the floor. Ah, youth.

T.O.C.E. also sang, which, as always, summoned the law. Everyone got kicked out and then they had to spend the night in jail. Just kidding. Or am I?

X Chomosomey.

There is a very old and strictly enforced rule in Pittsburgh that women and men must socialize seperately-- see the Sleaze post, above, in which T.O.C.E. had to dress up as a guy (it was very believable) in order to get into the joint. Here, a day after, the Women of Pittsburgh gather to celebrate the birth of one of their finest by eating fancy food and drinking 5 gajillion bottles of wine. Below, she is awarded a medal for existing.

I mean, c'mon. How come I couldn't get a human this hot? Geezoman.

And here is T.O.C.E.'s Bruther from another Muther, who organized the fete, proving to the camera that she knows where Michigan is. She is also inexplicably smokin', as well as a new home owner. Some gals have all the luck.

Behold the group, several bottles in. Shortly after this photo was taken, they all ate dessert, got even tipsier, and started taking pictures of their feet.

I guess it could be worse. They could be singing "Regulator."

Speakeasily.

Shortly after the Wine Party and Birthday Shoe Show, T.O.C.E. snuck off to an undisclosed part of Pittsburgh, to an underground (yet somehow still outdoor) club in which men and women openly fraternize. Behold the contraband pictures, most of them involving Patio Furniture and The One Called Patio Furniture.

Shameless!

The nerve! And while eating a burrito!

And they smile while they fraternize! The charlatans.

Patio ponders his co-ed transgressions, and wears a stupid hat for penance.

Well at least she's ashamed.

Dispatches from the Front.

Last night, the Nimrod Twins watched Conan tell jokes about George W. Bush's favorite restaurant being Chuck E. Cheese:

T.O.C.E.: Man, I used to LOVE Chuck E. Cheese! I had a birthday party there. Ha. You probably have no idea what he's talking about.

H.W.D.N.T.B.D.: Yes I do.

T.O.C.E.: You've probably never even been near a Chuck E. Cheese.

H.W.D.N.T.B.D.: Not true. I used to work there.

T.O.C.E.: YOU DID NOT!

H.W.D.N.T.B.D.: Did so. I was the highest paid person in the history of Chuckie Cheese.

T.O.C.E.: I don't believe you.

H.W.D.N.T.B.D.: I was. I was in the band. I was the small woodland creature that played the trombone.

T.O.C.E.: Ha! You just gave yourself away, my friend! Because not only was the trombone-playing woodland creature a GIRL, who dressed as a CHEERLEADER; she wasn't played by a human person. She was animatronic. She was played by a robot.

H.W.D.N.T.B.D.:Maybe when you went there, she was. But when I worked there, Chuckie Cheese let me be whoever I wanted. I was a very valued employee. No human could have ever replaced me.

T.O.C.E.: Shut up. I'm going to do the dishes.

Fifteen minutes later, H.W.D.N.T.B.D. walks into the kitchen.

H.W.D.N.T.B.D.: There was this one time, Chuckie Cheese got drunk, and he dumped a steamin' hot pizza in some kid's lap, and I went to court and I lied on the stand for Chuckie Cheese, I said that Chuckie Cheese never dropped that hot pizza, and that kid's just a spaz. So that's why he loved me so much.