So much to tell. Jeez. Well, let’s start with for reasons of my own, I resigned from my triathlon team- Team Ironhead. I will say that my experience with most of these people has been FANTASTIC, and I really look forward to seeing them race, compete and win as an online stalker here in the next year. Thank you for EVERYTHING, guys. Love you all.
OK, that’s done. So, I had a fantastic party for my mother’s 70th birthday last Tuesday at Bonnell’s. As many of you know, I am a huge Bonnell’s and Button’s fan. I have, recently, however, had a small falling out with Buttons- in relation as some of you will recall- to their happy hour and bar bites chicken wang fiasco. You will, my readers, be relieved the hear that Button’s has heard my complaint and responded by reinstating the half price happy hour- they have NOT returned the ALL IMPORTANT FOURTH CHICKEN WANG to the order. But, being as I have complained about so much recently, I feel as though we should reward them by going to the reinstated happy hour and maybe gettting the Fried Green Tomatoes- which are also excellent. If you must have wangs (and let’s face it, generally I must) make sure you moan just a wee bit about the missing fourth wing. Like I said, I would rather they raise the price and return my wing.
But again, I have wandered off on a tangent. My mother’s party. So, all the adopted Parmer family members and friends (30 of them) to be exact, made it out to Bonnell’s for the 70 Shades of JuJu party. My mom, as of late, has been reading a fair share of mommy porn on her Kindle- so we themed the party on 50 Shades of Grey- and all got her nasty novels with gift cards inside. It really was a great GREAT time- with old sassy pants chef/super triathlete Jon Bonnell even gracing us with his presence rather than spending his time at his hoity faloity new restaurant Waters. I am a Bonnell’s classicist, but I’ve been told Waters if AMAZING and still carries what I like to call CGT Oysters Texafellar. Or spelled however, jeez, don’t bitch people.
Oh, also since last we chatted, I played my first two rounds of golf. Very interesting and frustrating. Apparently I’m strong as an OX, cause when I connect with the ball, I knock the crap out of it. BUT, periodically (let’s say 65%) I hit the ball in a direction that has no relation whatsoever to my intended goal. I’m told this is normal. I had a pretty good round on my first nine. So I am encouraged that I might actually get better at this game/sport.
While I was waiting to take my first and ONLY golf lesson (thank you Pat Gallagher) I got the call from my dermatologist that the tiny little mole on my chest was in fact Squamos Blah blah blah cancer- serious and aggressive. Needless to say that was NOT encouraging. But after I harassed every licensed physician I knew- including the foremost transplant expert in Fort Worth/Dallas and my extremely talented Botox injector- I was convinced I was not going to die, but I might have a mighty good scar. And so began operation Whack a Mole.
I sent in Thursday and the doc took about an eyeball size chunk of flesh- leaving me with a two inch scar on my chest. I am going with I got shanked in prison, so if you see me tell as story like this
“Yeah, I went to meet a client in jail and all hell broke loose. The bitch shanked me. But you should see her…”
Just go with it.
I actually think scars are kind of sexy. The poor doctor was so apologetic about the scar and I was like “um doc, you take as much as you need to to get clear margins, I am not THAT vain.”
I’m plenty vain…that was a lie. But, what the hell. I still have nice boobs and maybe it will draw peoples eyes away from my ever more noticeable crows feet. 🙂 IN other words, people, look down.
Finally, my dad is thinking about putting together a team for a 12 mile open water swim- which I am so psyched about. I have wanted to race with my dad for a while. So, if you are speedy in the water and game for some Parmer family fun- I can pretty much guaranty you that you won’t be the slowest person on the team.
Stay classy, CGT world.