Sunday, November 18, 2007
I Come to Bury Caesarland, Not to Praise It...
Well, I no longer fear death -- for today I spent 2 1/2 hours at Caesarland. What's that? I'll be dead for all eternity, never to think or feel or love or breathe again? Bring it on! I've been to Caesarland!
I won't get into why I was the one lucky enough to escort Miss O to the party. I won't discuss the fact that I was one of only four parents who stayed to make sure their children weren't A) crippled while crawling around in code-defying, shit-caked play tunnels, 2) poisoned by bacteria-ridden cheese-and-salmonellaroni-pizzas, and/or III) molested by the myriad sex-offenders roaming the E.coli-stained carpets. I won't even get into the two tantrums thrown by Miss O, in front of all the other satan spawn, when she refused to fucking sit down for cake and ice cream.
Oh, and I definitely won't mention the Cops episode that broke out, mere feet from the fucking party, when police burst into the building and forcefully apprehended, handcuffed and carried off some skeev who was most likely one of the aforementioned sex offenders. I shit you not, by the way. The boyfriend of the birthday girl's mom, who looked like he was maybe, oh, 17 1/2, told me, after the altercation, "I thought that guy didn't look quite right. I seen 'im earlier when I was outside smokin', and he asked me for a light."
I'm just going to go upstairs, steal a coupla candy bars from the Miss O's halloween bag (that she fucking OWES me after today), take a long, hot shower to dislodge the silt of death that descended upon me in that Hellmouth, crawl into bed and pass out. And if I never wake up... well, at least I won't have to think about this day ever again.