Team Club shifted nights again this week, meeting on Monday instead of Tuesday, because we're basically really crap at being adults and can't commit to anything. I got there first, but was met with only DG's empty house and a post-it note stuck to the front door which read,
Gone to Bronto, Be Back Pronto! p.s. Call Ron Ron. Without a cellphone and already a bit stoned, I sat on the porch and contentedly read a pretty wicked book about snake-handling until DG and Ron Ron arrived with armloads of take-out. This was consumed on the back patio where we were under constant siege by a family of nine raccoons. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking,
where is the lovely Senior Senior? When will this flimsy triangle become a strong square with four equally devoted corners? Yeah, well, so were we. We passed the time trying to guess what movie he'd bring. Senior Senior, remember, was being punished for an unforgivable and poorly-timed nap and therefore had to bring a movie with a one-word title (no "the" allowed). DG rolled a joint. Ron Ron annoyed us with puns.
About 60 years later, Senior Senior showed up and offered no apologies. By then, we each had long, gray beards and crooked, little canes and none of us could remember why we were there. We scratched our balding heads and stroked our beardy chins. DG realized that he was holding a joint, so we lit it and - fortified - remembered our purpose: to mock me relentlessly. DG, Senior Senior, and Ron Ron mocked me for a good 15 minutes solid about my career, lifestyle, and romantic misadventures. As the most glamorous member of The Team and the only uncoupled one, I am constantly a victim of their jealousy for they secretly long to be as free and beautiful as I. To be fair, we also mocked Ron Ron for a while. Senior Senior scurried off again (this time to heroically procure snacks), and we watched the movie when he returned.
What did Senior Senior pick? That's a very good question, and I don't mind telling you that he fucking blew our minds by selecting a documentary. Not once had we considered that he might bring a documentary! That's the thing about Senior Senior: he's an unpredictable guy with a gruff voice and tight trousers. We
love Senior Senior:
Dig! made us laugh our heads off and gasp at the distressing effects of hard drugs. Halfway through the film, I noticed that Senior Senior was not wearing the
Selector's Uniform, and when I whispered this to him, he leapt to his feet and remedied the situation immediately. Still, close call. Talking points? Oh, sure:
1. Drugs are bad.
2. The chick from The Dandy Warhols gained weight. Don't look at me. That one came from the mysogonist on my right.
3. Holy crap, The Dandy Warhols wrote the
Veronica Mars theme song! I'm a huge fan. Of
Veronica Mars, not The Dandy Warhols. And not of the theme song either.
4. The Brian Jonestown Massacre are way better than The Dandy Warhols. Also, The Dandy Warhols are wankers.
5. We love Joel Gion and Matt Hollywood.
The walk down Indian Grove was pleasant, as was the subway ride and subsequent walk down Clinton. Ron Ron chooses next week. He, too, is suffering punishment by Theme Jar and must select a movie made in the 80s. This delighted him for about half a second before we firmly reminded him of the
No Star Wars Rule.
Team Club has mended itself and gathered Saturday night for some tasty times and
timer shots. Some were gone before they left
some left,
on their own accord and others
kept 
their socks on and stayed. It was a delight.
