I had never heard a wiff about it.
Friday, just after noon, we headed out to Redding, CA, about 4-5 hours north by car, depending upon Bay Area, Coke-bottle traffic. Because we got out of here by 1PM, it only cost about an hour delay of wishing death on lots of strangers.
Got to our friends’ place about 1830, a day before the idiotic bi-annual clock clusterfuck—for the purpose of working in the fields picking cotton an extra hour every day for the Massa (and like taxes, has never been repealed)—so it was still light outside. We meandered about, they all sipped some wine, and Ed made a truffle pasta (with fresh homemade pasta—watched him roll it and cut it with one of those thingies).
Then he & Gail proposed we maybe play a game and of course, Beatrice is all Yes! with that life-like emoticon behavior. I generally hate games and people who play them. I do, however, like to sit and jeer, make fun, and belittle anyone within ear shot who is (while critiquing game play, when I bother to be charitable). There are many facets to being superior to others. It only takes a few, but after a lifetime of practice, I’ve assembled an arsenal. It’s so profound that people generally steer clear of me, and I always take that to mean that my aura of superiority is indeed just and valid.
But Ed has this annoying audacity of thinking he understands what I like, combined with an uncanny luck in being right too often. After much negotiation, I agreed to lower myself to the level of playing a round or two. It’s called Cards Against Humanity, which means nothing to me; and it’s inhumanity I’m against anyway, but it’s the tagline that got me: A Party Game for Horrible People.
If being like all y’all is right, I wanna be wrong.
Seems I got lucky. I mean, when can you play a game where, in a social setting, you get to laf at the idea that a cripple can’t wipe his or her ass after a shit? Don’t Laugh! Well, in this game you can. It’s horrible.
The “rulz” are easy. Everyone is dealt 10 cards with an “answer” on each card. The party member who last took a shit (this is negotiated—it’s an ice breaker) goes first and draws a question card. Each of the others scan their 10 answers and proffers their best, be it funny, clever, both, downright horrible, or a throwaway. Then, that last shitter picks their favorite, not knowing which answer came from whom. If yours is chosen, you win the trick; and the one with the most tricks at the end, wins. Play rotates shit-wise. Just joking. It goes clockwise from the person who last took a shit that day. Yes, you get replenished from the answer deck, so everyone always has 10 answers to choose from as questions rotate around.
I’m happy to say that by the end of the evening, I was the most horrible person with 17 tricks won, the nearest most horrible with 12 or 13, as I recall.
My observation as a first timer is that it pays to be patient and hold onto an answer that you know can be a winner. That’s why I held onto “Make a Wish Foundation” for a good while, until Gail asked “How I lost my Virginity.” And then there was “Alter Boys.” That was easy to offer up in answer to “What is there a lot of in heaven?”
It’s an awful, horrible game. You’ll hate it. You and your friends will laugh at the answers you put up, but more than that, laugh at the fact that everyone is laughing at stuff nobody is supposed to be laughing at.
Like small, limp penises, off-smelling vaginas, and asymmetrical boob jobs. Nobody, no thing, and no sacred cow is safe.