a.k.a: a lame Thursday night.
To most I am a "neat freak". I am the one you'll find scrubbing the base boards and taking almost a year to finish all my paint touch-ups. Well, not every room in the house is under such scutiny, namely, the GARAGE. We refer to the GARAGE as "Man-land" or "husband-land". You will see why. Brace yourselves.
Here we see "the table". This holds such items as Crown Royal, Tequila, empty protein shake cups, empty beer bottles, Tinactin (ewww), ciggarettes, ashtrays, lighters, chip clips, old mail and misc. other things that are way too heavy to move to the garbage can. Note the remote that is disguised as a golf bag.
Some say we have a problem, I say we just like pretty silver and red boxes.
Here is the bag I use to practice my kickboxing on. Tonight, while sporting red slippers, I commenced to practicing after a little Tequila. (OK, OK, a LOT of Tequila) My husband knocked over several beer bottles after laughing at me kicking off my slipper, and watching it sail into the wall and back down. HARD. I did do a nice round-house, though, without falling over. YOU try that after 4 shots. Hrmph.
The red slippers. I am a total badass in these.
Warmth and entertainment. We ARE civilized, I'll have you know.
What garage would be complete without fuzziness? Here Lou is saying "Mom, can we PLEEEZ go back inside?? You are acting like total white trash!!!"
Darts: Pre-tequila. Jim said to me: "Nice Cluster". Yeah, I TOTALLY closed out 1's. Hee.
Darts: Post-tequila. Shut up.