Fantasy Baseball Hotdog Party - Part Deux

Well it is a little later in the day and the fog that was over my brain has lifted. It is time to get back to what really matters, blogging!! Now that I have had time to process thoughts and relive the hilarity of yesterday. I feel that it is important to point out, that was no standard portion shot glass being used last night. I gotta give props to those who threw those bad boys back. I swear to god, one of them knocked the neck of the bottle. You may as well say it was 'Super Sized'. There is no official tally on the shear volume that was needed to entertain the crowd, but the kitchen/whole house smelt like the Country Store... you know what I am talking about. There was some good banter, stories concerning pants, rules changes and which may be the quote of the night. In a crowded kitchen, full of babbling hot dog and beer infused middle aged men a vibration occurred in my pocket. I reached inward to retrieve my cell phone and to my dismay it occurred that it was not for me. At that point I pleaded to the audience to quiet down and said those fateful words, " Dude, your wife is calling my cell phone". The look was one of no surprise, as the gentleman in question had left his in his car. After that, we lost a member of the party but the spirit and morale of the men stayed strong for the next couple of hours. Slowly but surely people started falling off. Everyone left on amicable terms and a little salivation for next years shindig where a new champion would be crowned.