The Undead Are Good at Balderdash
Posted by Moose on March 4th, 2008. Filed under: Nice Things.There are only so many things a person can do well. Prior, of course, to being bitten by a charismatic member of the undead, becoming undead yourself, and having all sorts of new free time with which to excel at Irish clogging, tapestry weaving, and French horn playing. I’ve inspected many a back alley, but have yet to find Brad Pitt and a wee Kirsten Dunst sporting fangs and preparing to whisk me into the realm of Perpetual Time With Which To Tackle Your To-Do List. So I resign myself to my waking hours, waking hours not prolonged by immortality.
Sure, some people have the energy to come home from work, whip up a duck cassoulet, write a thesis on the Iranian wombat, and organize the hall closet, but I am not one of these Super People. (I mean, I’m a super person, but not a Super Person.) (If you catch my drift.) (And I think you do.) By my estimation I get maybe two or three hours a day to read, invent new ways to abuse the comma, or stare at the wall and wonder why it’s so yellow. So I’m very good at some things (staring at yellow walls) and less good at other things (Iranian wombat theses).
This weekend, I determined that – without any practice at all – I am a master of three very different disciplines:
1. Pitting two dogs against one another
2. Drinking beer out of a large boot
3. Balderdash
Dogs, Pitting Against: Beulah graced us with her presence this weekend. Beulah is a little dumpy dog, who enjoys shooting laser beams out of her demonic eyes and chewing on her furry paws. Meeka, of course, is the soul of sweetness, and it never would’ve occurred to her to steal Beulah’s fluffy round bed if we hadn’t prompted her to greater heights of mischief by patting the downy cushion. Beulah stumped into the room a few minutes later and, with a heaving sigh, made do with Meeka’s flat, dirty pallet. It’s a true Dumperella story.
We took the dogs to the beach on Sunday and Meeka, trained to trot beside us and NOT dash into traffic, got to roam unfettered. Meanwhile, Beulah’s plump rump scampered for the highway, fluffy ears bouncing in the wind. So I pounced, hoisted her into my arms, and we both suffered the indignity. Me because I huffed, “DAMN, this dog is heavy” every three steps, and Beulah because Meeka was prancing on the ground where dogs belong, smug tail a waving beacon to Beulah’s shame. I won’t even get into the War of the Food Bowls, 2008.
Das Boot: Yes, we drank German beer out of a large boot. It was magnificent. The end.
Balderdash, Mastery Of: Saturday was game night at Chez BurnSlinsky. We drank pseudo jugs of wine and played a game designed for a room full of smart asses who enjoy bamboozling their game night compatriots. I was on fire, folks. ON FIRE. My pencil sent up smoke as I dashed off pithy references to stilts, sexual athletes, and smallpox. I’m quite the Balderdash ringer, and I say it myself.
I also came in dead last. It would be difficult to describe just how dead last I was, without telling you that my poor red piece didn’t move for the first hour of the game. Even after it moved a few paltry spaces, it was still twelve inches of board real estate behind everyone else.
In spite of my crushing defeat, Nathan named me the MVP of Balderdash. I plan to boast about this on every possible occasion. In fact, I’m going to make a sign that reads “MVP of Balderdash” or maybe “Balderdash Conquistador” and hang it around my neck.
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March 4th, 2008 at 1:36 pm
I have some fantastic friends, but what I wouldn’t give to hang out with you and your game-night pals. You are just oozing fun.
March 4th, 2008 at 1:39 pm
Hmmm…Balderdashinator?
I also want to come and play. You guys seem like way too much fun
March 4th, 2008 at 1:46 pm
Exquisitely told.
March 4th, 2008 at 1:54 pm
MVP! Moose Valuable Player. This will not help, but I would have been dead last, too, because strategy is boring. That said, reading Holly’s entry, it sounds like you were the most quotable Balderdash player. Again, MVP!
Will you share where you were drinking out of a boot? I have a birthday coming up, and there should be boots. In return maybe I can remember where I got my hard hat shaped like a cowboy hat.
Thank you in advance!
March 4th, 2008 at 2:18 pm
And what a well-deserved honor it was. Moose made SMALLPOX funny.
March 4th, 2008 at 3:54 pm
No! You must be crowned Balderdash Czarina! It’s the only right answer!
Also, what do you say about you ‘n’ me starting a band and calling it “Iranian wombat theses”? Yes? Okay!
March 4th, 2008 at 3:58 pm
Balderdash Master? Balderdaster? Hmmm, if you lost, it’s too much like balderdisaster. Man, I wish I’d been there.
FYI, Beulah does know how to “heel” and “wait at the corner,” but maybe you just have to sound really mean. But apparently you broke her at the beach, because she’s still sacked out on the couch, unable to move her dumpy butt.
Das boot? Is gut.
March 4th, 2008 at 5:00 pm
On Sunday morning, I went through the pile of Balderdash papers and separated your answers out from the rest. Then I spent a good hour just reading them and re-reading them and repeating things to myself out loud, like “an elderly widow discovers the W Hotel” and “two unfortunate lesbians get off the train at the wrong stop; disaster ensues.” This really, really, really helped ease the pain of my hangover. You are The Balderdashatron indeed.
March 4th, 2008 at 5:24 pm
And now I really want to know about Iranian wombats, but there’s no theses for me to read! The tragedy.
March 4th, 2008 at 8:36 pm
What you have yet to learn about me, Moose, is that I am the Balderdash MVP in my circles. Heck, yeah, that’s a challenge! So let me know when you want to take me on
Also, I was just wondering how Jemima feels about her dog being repetitively referred to as “dumpy.” And then I noticed above that she called her the same, so all is good again.
March 4th, 2008 at 9:09 pm
Now I really want to go out and get Balderdash. Just so I can try to become the Balderdasherista of my own little circle of friends.
Also, there will a little something for you in my post tomorrow (Weds) morning, so stop by to claim it.
March 5th, 2008 at 10:21 am
Hello, fellow Balderdash Master! I, too, excel at the art of fabrication. Unfortunately, I do not fare quite so well at drinking from a boot.
March 5th, 2008 at 3:03 pm
Now I get the smallpox query reference over at Nathan’s website! It helps to cross-reference!
I found you by way of Holly by way of Nathan and love reading your blog. I especially like the Cube-bot one. I laugh all the time just thinking about the Water Club. Somehow life is just funnier on someone else’s blog!
(BTW – when I was about eight I played a very memorable game of dictionary -which is just Balderdash with out the glossy board, flashy playing pieces, marketing and price tag- and wrote a fantastic definition about a purple lotus flower that grew in the Sahara desert and made camels spit pink which my extended family still talks about. Sadly, I also lost. My condolences on your brilliant and unrecognized genius!)
March 5th, 2008 at 7:23 pm
Seriously, that photo on Holly’s flickr site of your little red game piece was easily one of the saddest pictures I’ve ever seen. I may have shed a tear.
And if you believe I shed a tear, then maybe I’d kick ass at Balderdash
March 5th, 2008 at 8:45 pm
Oh my God! We OWN Das Boot! It’s right in our breakfront, next to our Pimp Cup. (Do you think I’m kidding? I assure you, I AM NOT.)
March 5th, 2008 at 10:29 pm
She Likes Purple & Angella: We need to wrangle some BlogHer Balderdash action. It would be epic. EPIC.
Linda: We were at a German restaurant called Suppenkuche in San Francisco. (Hayes Valley, if you’re anywhere near.) I’m not sure where the boot fits in the German tradition, but fit it does. Any large vessel for beer, I suppose.
Leah: Balderdash Czarina – OF COURSE. And I think the Iranian Wombat Theses need a kazoo. Yes. I will begin practicing immediately.
Jemima: See, Meeka doesn’t know these “words” of which you speak. (Except for “bacon,” I suppose.) So I panicked. It didn’t even OCCUR to me to shout “heel!” It occurred to me to, well, panic. And grab her. But no harm came to me or the dumpy dog, so all is well.
NBB: I may have hit my literary peak with those Balderdash papers. Please save them for me. I will laminate them for my grandchildren.
Nancy: The boot takes a little practice, but I assure you – anyone can conquer das boot.
Heidi: Thank you! I was reading the Water Club list just this morning. Apparently, Harold from accounting hasn’t yet paid his dues. SCANDAL.
Over-Thinker: Dude. I was crying buckets. My poor red piece. So sad. So lonesome. SO ABANDONED.
Metalia: No. Way. You OWN DAS BOOT? I was trying to figure out how to smuggle it out under my coat! How’d you snag one? (And what, pray tell, is a Pimp Cup?)
March 6th, 2008 at 8:53 pm
Oh, Lord. I will send you pictures.
March 16th, 2008 at 3:56 pm
I’m enjoying your blog immensely…I also own a boot, purchased after a night of drinking roughly 6 too many boots. The boot is a very good thing….