on the next rollergirl, honoring mr. mcdimple and the disputed history of the over-the-shoulder boulder holder

I spent Saturday afternoon at a roller rink with my soon-to-be six-year-old niece. It was, and I quote, "[her] best birthday party ever!" She's quite skilled on her rollerblades and was one of the few kids able to skate around without clutching an adult or the wall for dear life. In fact, the only time she was found on her rump was when one of the male skate guards came near her. Wee girlfriend totally took a dive so they could help her up! She's six and already has the damsel in distress thing going on. We are all fearful of her adolescence.

Saturday night was a big night for Mr. McDimple. My father was honored as Man of the Year by his Knights of Columbus council. A dinner was had, an engraved plaque was bestowed and an "Electric Slide" was slid. Mrs. McDimple still doesn't have the hang of it so I spent most of the time standing directly behind her gently nudging her in the proper direction. She is bound and determined to learn this dance even though it's way passe. I'm not really into line dancing but well, the McDimples had already consumed several pitchers of beer and we weren't too concerned with looking lame nor uniform. Um, that is until "The Cha Cha Slide" came on. That shit is too complicated for our fair-skinned, freckled asses. Hook us up with a "Stack of Barley" and we'll make short work of it. Ask us to "Charlie Brown now" and we fail miserably. What is that exactly anyway? If left to mine own devices, I would, like, act melancholy and try to kick a football and miss or something... which I'm certain is incorrect. Anyone? Anyone?

Oh and my Dad had to say a few words after he received his award. It turns out that when given a microphone, my father is the total vocal twin of Sean Connery. He could probably earn some extra scratch doing some looping or something. I'm going to help him work on his reel.

Yesterday afternoon, the Younger Sister, a friend and myself engaged in a rather insane conversation that involved us all affecting a severe case of mush mouth... 'cause speech impediments are all sorts of funny. Don't ask me how but I somehow escalated the conversation to me threatening to put someone's tits in a sling. Of course, it sounded more like "titsh in a shling."

And oh how we laughed. The Younger Sister suddenly stopped giggling as a thought dawned on her.

"What does that even mean? Tits in a sling?"

"I'm not sure. I might have made that up. It's usually 'ass in a sling,' isn't it? I got carried away. I don't know why I said tits."

"Wait, wasn't that the name of the inventor? Something Titsling?"

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my Younger Sister actually believed the battle of Philippe DeBrassiere and Otto Titsling to be fact. Apparently, Beaches has a high credibility factor with the Younger Sister. You heard it here: CC Bloom speaks the truth, yo.