I was at a party this past weekend and at this party I consumed enough alcohol to become intoxicated. I have not been intoxicated for quite some time. There was turtle cheesecake, Dutch spice cake with tasty Dutch spread, Christmas cookies of several varieties, Double Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip cookies [made by me] and dancing monkeys.
We watched this utterly crappy movie called Christmas Toys, a half hour length compilation that Burbank Video obviously cobbled together from 1950s prereel or television. The first flick had nothing to do with Christmas, and was basically a catalog of dolls from different ethnic groups. It wasn’t aggressively racist, but the dolls from Africa were definitely painted black instead of brown and the Asians had slanty eyes.
The second flick had marionettes, crappy ones. Melted-looking ones with evil eyes and falling-off beards and hands the size of platters and necks the length of your mom. At this point no one was really paying any attention to the storyline, which I think had to do with some elf making toys. At the end the elf does this weirdo dance that apparently Drunken Santa’s sister can imitate perfectly.
The third flick was about The Monkey’s Christmas. A child-molestor looking Santa Claus is caught coming down the chimney by a couple of kids, he sits them on his lap and tells them about the Monkey’s Christmas. They were all trained monkeys, monkeys build houses, apparently, for Christmas, and wear clothes and do other things that monkeys don’t do, because monkeys know that they are monkeys. It made no sense and was scary and Santa was scary. Complete gratuity.
We also watched a horror movie called Jack Frost that has an awesome shower scene involving a murderous snowman [and his, ahem, carrot] and Shannon Elisabeth. Unfortunately it was all very PG, but still awesome.
Then we played Truth or Dare Jenga. The truths were all taken from some book that Drunken Santa owned and we wrote our own dares. I had to moon the outside. And someone else had was dared to drink wine from my belly button. Its hairiness scared them apparently, but yesterday I found out that it is “cute” or something. Drunken Santa knocked over the Jenga game and had to do five dares including, showing of boobs, making out with someone, drinking wine, hot chocolate and sushi mixed together and two others that no one remembers. Then some people left and I went to sleep on the couch.
I blacked out briefly hours later after I went to the bathroom. Not because I was still drunk but because I was both dehydrated and had low blood sugar. When I awoke an hour and a half after that incident, I looked outside and realized that I was in mortal danger of being snowed in with two girls. So I packed up what little dignity and honor I had left, drove home very slowly and safely, went to church and helped decorate for Christmas.