Saturday, January 20, 2007
HAMSGIVING 2007
1:04PM - david and myself are 24 mcnuggets into the first ever hamsgiving. pounded off almost a whole hock of ham last night. got drunk. slept on top of a bottle of gin. woke up, headache, whats colder than ice cold. drinking first Folg of the day, replenished mtn dew supply. bacon, sausage, veal, pork, beef, salami, tenderloin, shrimp, meatloaf, turkey, and of course ham are currently in residence with us here. hordes of meat lovers are currently making the pilgrimmage to the slope like the three wisemen seeking out the messiah. he's born in poverty and will feed the masses. with dead beasts.

2:31PM - we got a barfing baby. we've also got tacos. going to play some frozen cornhole soon. probably just exhibition matches. purportedly scotty busted up a nine year relationship and is passively courting a crazy chick. i say bang away, treat it like an experiment. bet he doesn't. about 10 people in the kitchen. chad is pathologically washing dishes. ate some pork tenderloin, it's good. slightly better than mcnuggets. had some taco too. clint ate some raw cheese-filled hot dog. bless him. my fingers are now constantly oily with the residue of dead beast.

4:17PM - meat sweats. not literally, apparently it's a drink. apparently i just indulged myself. dave: "it's like i dove into the ocean and left my mouth open." whiskey with a bit of beef bouillon. i don't know how to spell that word, probably. i'm making Folg converts. at least one. i think my brow just perspired. we're going to do a circle jerk onto the magnificent meat cake that we've been recently blessed with. meatballs. fried chicken. drew is upping the ante, claiming the king of hamsgiving is the one to eat raw meat. til later, a quote from an impressed outsider: "best hamsgiving i've ever been to."

6:19PM - american spirit. "oh my god--beaver." sausage tape. ellie. whore. wine opener in the meat cake. i got a shower and i feel like a champ. washed all the meat oil leaking from my pores like old faithful. pump it up. spam patties lying around too long, nazi homemaker chad martha stewart hermiller going nuts drew throw this away drew clean this up aarghh. fingers smell like nicotine. not sure if i know how to spell that word either. where the fuck is the wonger with the wii and the coke. white collar anger. like i deserve it. like it's owed to me. dave took a picture of me in the shower. dong is a dong does. dead fish on tv. feeling ok. dave has a point--we're 24 hours into meat exclusivity and unfathomably i have no cravings for starch, chlorophyll, or natural sugars. i just want some more ham. or a swedish meatball. i'm going to barf on somebody's cock. "all night tonight we're leavign frasca messages." "tonight......you." "i don't know if i believe in god, but if i did, i know he doesn't like me, cause he allowed you to make a dog that constantly rapes me." there's a sugar sirloin right near me. blasphemous i don't know.

7:59PM - the kingsmen, i think. lots o folks dancin. susan chose to suck a Folg, on her own. chad was present. loser. hos was scared of a daddy-long-legs crawling up the wall, asked me to kill it, unhesitatingly i wailed it with my right hand. in the spirit of a meatlicious hamsgiving i enthusiastically licked the remnants off my palm. hos (ellie + mbeth) were terrified but i was legitimized by the masses.
we got revolutionary war names to celebrate the hamsgiving founders and other notable participants:
me: ben franklin: i inadvertantly invented this whole shindig, then seemingly didnt care much about it but celebrated as crazily as anyone.
dave: tom jefferson: created the term "hamsgiving," turned a fine idea into a communally awesome undertaking.
devon: paul revere: not part of the genesis but was immenintely present throughout creation, integral to spread of the fantastic idea. couldn't have happened without her hard work
drew: john hancock: made a big fucking fuss but not really important at all
chad: george III: technically it's his house but everyone is against him and his tyrannical rule, aka cleaning
erin + friends: the french: we were plugging along like some champs but then they should up and legitimized everything with their awesomeness and unflappable support.
scotty: the indians: who knows if we can trust him, who knows who's side he's on, but out of nowhere he shows up and dominates.

10:16PM - my arm's been sufficiently twisted. took my pants off. shirt too, but that's just superfluous after the pants. nonetheless, it's very welcome. who doesn't love some man parts?
i've been yanked at like the coppertone baby. cept i don't have no tan lines. hollywood. sweet. smokes and smooth dance moooves. woman named kate is doing a fine job. dancin is a good thing for ol jfolg. tried hard to recreate thanksgiving pose but dwelt is actin shy. dongsgiving. nut parade. chad wanted to castrate me earlier for jumping on the floor while a record was playing. so i jumped some more. i love chad. he loves me. i taught his wo-man how to dance. epicocity. rubbed a mop handle on lindsey's coot. she like. rad like lori loughlin.
it's way too early to be checking out but it seems like just that is taking place. hamsgiving comes only once a year. though we're in cahoots for a veggiegiving and a calorie day. calorie day might change monikers but we're going for 15,000 por un dia. walter payton. kentucky gentleman.
to dutch doctor a whore you must first bone her traditionally, preferably (another word i can;t spell) missionary. then, unbeknownst to her, yank it out, as if you're about to blow her face apart. instead, pull a set of forceps out for under the bed. stab the ho in the neck, hard. open the forceps like you're looking for a staph infection of somethin nasty. wait for the hole to achieve sufficient largeness. then stick your ragining boner in the open neck hole. bone away. ideally release man essence as she's finishing off her death retches. dutch doctor. walter payton.