I just found the videos pumpkin_face took of the drunkies.
In the first, we are casualy discussing their activities and sipping juice. This is before we decided calling the cops was in order.
In the second, you can hear the off-duty cop chatting with pumpkin_face.
We got off to a groggy start. Brent offered to go pick up breakfast for everyone as long as we decided where it was from. By the time we chose McDonalds, breakfast was over. Those sluts!
After pumpkin_face said she didn’t know what eggs Benedict were, the choice was clear, Maxwell’s (as usual). I think Brent felt like quite the hot guy, being surrounded by two lovelies.
Brent went home to work and pumpkin_face and I headed out to do some shopping. I guess a shoe buzz was in the air because she bought herself 3 pairs of shoes. I bought one pair but they were for Brent (lime-green sneakers). I felt like quite the lame-o for not getting more for myself (read: anything) but I now hold out for things I think will last me a long time.
After wandering about the market, we went into that chocolate shop… I forget what it’s called… We saw a gleaming candy apple display. They were covered in candy, chocolate or caramel, dipped in various other candies. They looked real nice so we tried to take a photo. Not of the whole store, just the candy apples. The guy behind the counter forbade us! He said no because he didn’t know what we were going to do with them. My mission is to take a photo of them and somehow turn them into porn.
On the way back we made the quick decision to walk back along the canal, which proved to be the right choice. We stopped part-way there so pumpkin_face could take a few shots of
We got down to the NAC and saw that across the canal were a couple of guys mouthing off to the people on our side of the canal. At first we thought it was funny, so we took a few photos. One was topless and they were both clearly drunk. The topless guy was still drinking. Then we thought it was getting pretty offensive so along with this guy standing next to us, decided to call the cops. I had to convince pumpkin_face that 911 wasn’t necessary. Just as she was dialling, another guy came up to us and said “Are you calling the police?” He then informed us that he was an off duty police officer and that he should do the talking. He called it in, very professionally and we waited. About 10 minutes later the cops showed up and arrested them and everyone clapped.
The guy with the grey shirt was originally topless. When the cop showed up he was gulping down the last of his booze. Before the cop showed up the guy with the black shirt was hitting grey shirt with tulips. Those poor tulips! And the tulip festival is coming up!
We got back to the apartment just in time to head out to a BBQ at Brent’s parents’ place. His brother (Blair) and new sister in law (Marley) moved into town a few days prior and this was to welcome them. So is it surprising that Marley wasn’t there? I kind of expected it, but I would have thought that being 20, living in a city where the only person you know is your husband and being pregnant would make you want to get to know your new family…I guess not. Pumpkin_face, being the only ‘new’ girl there had to tell people that she was, in fact, not Marley as she sipped her white wine.
Brent’s dad got us drunk; we each had a bottle of wine to ourselves. I think he likes it when I’m over because he seems like less of a wine-o. All in all the BBQ went relatively drama-free, which was nice. By the end we split into groups of girls and boys but pumpkin_face and I joined the boys, which is probably what reduced the drama. We made a quick exit and drove over to our new neighbourhood to show off our new house.
We drove by the front but I forgot to take a good look at the yard. We then went and parked at the elementary school that our property backs onto and walked through the field to find our backyard, which we had yet to see as we bought the house during the winter and the yard was covered in snow. Just as we found it, the owners went into the backyard and we ran away…we are not sneaky at all.
The three of us spent the rest of the evening watching hockey and chatting about all KINDS of things. For instance: Does the size of a man’s testicles indicate anything about his prowess in bed? Or indicate anything at all such as lower testosterone? (Thoughts on this are very welcome) But the best quote of the night, possibly the entire weekend was when pumpkin_face said “I LOVE talking about poo! You are my kind of people!”