1...2...3...26?

May has been a pretty good month!  I have a couple of events to cover so pull up a comfy seat (or maybe an iPad if you got one) and get ready to read some poorly constructed sentences, portraying a rather fuzzy timeline of events.  I plan on posting this over two (maybe three) entries.  Why?  Because it is my freaking blog, but also if I chose to not segment it up like this, the post would be one huge run on sentence withnospacesthatwouldmakeyourwantokillyourselfandeveryoneelsearoundyou. That's why.  In short my birthday came around, my parents came and visited, and I'm so freaking head over heels I kind of find myself cringing at the lovey dovey things that spring to my mind.  Let us begin, shall we?

My 26th birthday weekend wasn't too special.  Oh wait yes it was!  It fell right near the weekend of First Splash, which was incidentally the first one I have attended.  What is First Splash you might ask?  Well you know how gays like to throw parties, amirite? Well, Splash is one of two lake parties where the local gays get together so they can have lots of drinks and swim in a filthy lake.  You know, an event where we pretend that we love nature when deep down inside we just wish we lived in an air-conditioned bio-dome, that had all alcohol flowing like water and where the liposuction cost only a nickel.

There are actually two "Splashes" one is prior to the beginning of summer (First Splash), and one is at the end of summer (Last Splash).  Since Texas is just a hop, skip and a jump away from the surface of the sun, we need to have it in May (mid-late Spring) rather than Pride Month June (Summer proper).  Little known fact:  Texas during the summertime is where the Devil comes to acclimate himself going too or coming from Hell.  It's true just ask the Pope.  And I don't mean your local priest.  I mean the Pope.  I like to make it hard for anyone who wants to fact check me.

So, swimming in a big lake, while sipping on strong drinks, sounds pretty fun right?  For the most part it is.  But then you get the naked people.  Yup, we have a frightful "fun" little cove where nudity is permitted.

Now calm your jets, it is not all hot guys feeling up on other hot guys.  I wouldn't write about that.  After all I'm fairly certain that if Grandma tried she would find her way to this blog, so I wouldn't type anything about penises if they were actually doing anything graphic.  See how I did that?  I got you to think about your grandmother and then about peeno's immediately after.  You will forever have that connection in your mind.  Next time you see good ol' grammy you're gonna be like, "Oh no I just thought about peepees while I was hugging her!  Is that allowed?  Am I a terrible person?"

And let me just take a quick moment to reassure you.  Yes. That combination is indeed the reason you will be spending eternity in a very warm place in the afterlife.  Or at the very least you will get terrible accommodations in heaven, where the servants won't even have the decency to cower when you look at them, and their bar is always closed, even though you know you just saw someone walk by recently with a little umbrella in their glass!

Now wait, where was I?  Oh yes.  Tally wackers, (ugh try and spell check that word).

As risqué as a nude lake shore might sound, it is far less tempting to the eyes, and exceedingly unappealing when you experience it in real life. Instead of chiseled men and shapely women galavanting around splashing eachother, it is almost always the type of people you would never expect to see, and usually never hope to see, flaunting their "goods" attempting to make inappropriately long eye contact with some poor soul.  Lots of birthday suits that likely hadn't been aired out for a long, long time.  Perhaps it someone should have suggested to them to take an iron to a couple spots and run a lint roller along their clothing of choice as well.

But for the most part the nekkid people keep their distance.  I actually only saw two nude forms this time to the lake.  So to me, that is a total win, since the gays were obviously showing some small amount of modesty.  Don't get me wrong there were plenty of skimpy outfits on the men, women, men that became women and maybe even some women that became men, but the point is, at least they were wearing something.  And sometimes you have to count your blessings, no matter how small the thread count those blessings may have.

Did I mention how gross that lake is, though?  It was not cute.  I remember hearing all these stories of how people would get sick from accidentally swallowing the water while swimming.  I had told myself I would definitely not get in the water.  Yet somehow, I had just enough to drink to say, "Screw it!" and jump in.  Nothing got injured and it was fun to get in the lake, but I think I must have swallowed just a tiiiiiny bit of the lake.  This small amount of swimming would (a couple days later) prove to be a very poor choice on my part.

The day after the barge party (we had an got a group together to chip in for a party barge which was just so much fun) I had my birthday celebration.  I spent the day driving around with the Professor (more on that later), and just enjoying his wonderful company, and then later that evening my friends all went out to dinner with me.  Super fun times.

About two days later, I started to get the cramps.  Now I don't mean something simple like "ooh that smarts."  They were the kind of cramps that mean: "Oh hey!  It's me, your intestines.  Just doing some remodeling in here.  So that means I gotta get all of this stuff cleared out."  A sort of secret handshake from your stomach to you that says: you don't need a restroom right this second, but you better have some options very soon.

Part Two:  The Parent's Visit!