My Side of the Story....and More Cowbell
OK. My dear husband has decided to blog about his "perception" of one of our first dates. Now, while this story is incredibly embarrassing for me, and mostly true, there ARE a few details he left out - so I am here to clear those details right up. and also tell the story about the hike through the cow pasture which he doesn't want to tell because it doesn't paint a good picture of his manliness.
First of all, yes, I did drink 9 double rum and cokes that night, but what you have to understand is that I was 21 years old and really excited about the whole "I can go to bars now, woohoo!" thing. If I was to attempt that now, I would die.
Second, he had TWO beers? Yeah, pull this one it plays jinglebells...
Third, while I did become loud and maybe (a little) obnoxious, the reason I told everybody he was going to kick their ass is because they were all hitting on me and I just wanted to play darts. So, you know, sexual harrassment and shit. I was totally justified. Damnit.
Now for the cow pasture story. This might be a 'you had to be there' story, but if you think about it, its kinda hillarious. We had just graduated from the police academy and Jim's parents rented us a cabin in the mountains for a few days to celebrate. We thought we were THE SHIT. You know, we were 'official' cops and stuff. We decided to go on a hike and explore a little bit. We brought our guns with us (for safety), concealed ever so cleverly under our coats. (The power!) As we went, it started to get dark. No problem! We have guns! The problem was, we got lost. Totally and completely fucking lost. Idiots. We stumbled into a cow pasture and suddenly were face to face with a bunch of scary looking (huge!) cows and a bull. SHIT. We froze. They all just stared at us, unmoving. We heard..."Moooooooo" and some grunts. We looked at each other and said "oooooh crap." We pulled our guns cuz we were about to be killed by satanic cows and a bull. Inside our guns were 'hollow point' bullets. These are police department issued bullets. Bullets every officer has to ACCOUNT FOR. My first thought is, "Oh mother of hell, we are cops for 2 days and we are going to have to explain putting hollow points in a bunch of motherfucking cows."
We tip-toed through the pasture, and amazingly, didn't have to plug any of the cows. We were, however, still lost. Jim started to panic because we were lost. My knight in shining armor.
Anyway, we did find our way back. BUT, then there were the bunnies. In the little camp site where our cabin was, there were about 30 bunnies running around. Feeling like we got a second chance at life and giddy that we found our way home, Jim decided to go cut up some carrots for the cute little bunnies. He cut the shit out of himself. (I can't believe we actually graduated from the Police Academy and that they gave us weapons.) As he was bleeding all over the cabin, down the steps and out onto the dirt road, he STILL WANTED TO GIVE THE BUNNIES THE BLOOD SOAKED CARROTS. I KNOW. So, after we went to bed I'm all thinking "Great. We just gave those bunnies a taste for blood. They will surely come and eat us before dawn." We have never been back to that cabin.
OK, so the story is lame. Its funny to us. Go away.