1 step beyond

The boundaries of all that is holy were pushed back into the oblivion they came from on the evening of August Whatevertheheck when bloggers from all around the globe met somewhere in Chicago to plot the demise of the enemies of truth and justice. Plus eat pizza and drink absinthe; but allow me to explain...

This was actually the third annual gathering of the Church of Mashed Potato Pizza. MrsRW and I cheated a little by meeting up with Mocha Momma for lunch earlier to ponder a breakaway from the Church but, in the end, all we could come up with was spinach salads with walnuts and mandarin oranges which... come to think of it... actually are 1000% better than mashed potato pizza but not quite sustainable in the face of the awesomeness that is the spud. And upon recognizing the futility of our rebellion the three of us cowered our way to the cathedral and were gracefully accepted back into the brotherhood and sisterhood of our bosom fellows; which is the long way around the barn for saying we had lunch, hung around in the city for dinner and met up with some fellow bloggers. But I got carried away with the overdramatic intro. Sorry!

Ahem...

Anyway after the pizza and beer we tested our ability to assimilate the strange by invading one of the few drinking establishments in Chicago that served absinthe, and what a place this thing called The Violethour was. A sort of cross between a speakeasy and some kind vampire's drawing room. There was no sign on the building and you enter via an oversized, plain wooden swinging door. Inside you stand amidst these huge, thick draperies until you are escorted into what appears to be the drawing room designed by Vlad the Impaler's minimalist secretary. Three of our number - Dave, azlynne's partner, and I - opted for the absinthe, which turned us into raving lunatics whichafter (new word I invented while there) we cut off each other's left ear (though mine grew back), while the rest of the crew swallowed carafe after carafe of vodka and a reddish/pinkish/orangish something or other. I couldn't actually see after a while and nor did I care.

Afterwhich - having sent the rest happily on their way to carry on with their debaucheries long into the wee hours of the morning - the Mrs and I (content that we had helped once again usurp what little dignity remained in these poor misguided victims of ours wonderful wonderful friends of ours) left them to their own devices. I would assume the further adventures will be discussed at length at their respective venues.

This meet-up, however, revealed a long-standing internet mystery. We finally found that illusive lurker who has visited every blog known to humanity that everyone asks about (you know, the "who the heck googles something-something and ends up HERE?" person). Her name is Suzanne. And she eats pizza.

Jen and Mocha Momma just before the happy moment of surgical separation from one another.

MrsRW and Robin balance a couple of chairs above their shoulders with these nonchalant superpowers they discovered.

Dave sneaking in behind Tori before I cut off his ear while Leah, on the right, turns away in disgust of his shameless, shameless antics.

Gary (left) and Kapgar (um... you know ON THE RIGHT, sheesh), discuss what to do with my body after beating me to the ground and standing over me like the brutal meanies they truly are.

Suzanne. The lurker who comes to your site, has no blog of her own, never comments and continually scares the living crap out of you. Yes, this is her. And now you know. Mystery solved! Do we deliver or what?

Hopefully we shall all meet again in Chicago next year, if the path stays straight and in front of us.

We now return you to your regular programming...

Labels: Blogging