It’s March…and that means Papa Luigi!  As a fundraiser for our hospital foundation Papa Luigi travels to a different destination every year.  This year Papa went to Sturgis.

If you’ve never heard of Sturgis…you need to get out more often.  It is a huge, week-long Harley Davidson motorcycle rally held every year in Sturgis, SD.  Think 24/7 drunken debouchary.

It was upright on my flashdrive.  The theme for our table was Tattoos.  We “inked” a lot of people that night.

Some of my guests…

Yours truly at the back of the table.  That vest was purchased a mere 6 hours before the event.  I decided to forego the chaps.

The emcee was a local auctioneer and the guy in black the Executive Director of the foundation.

Two of my guests…Abby and Ross…were celebrating their 6th Wedding anniversary.

This was their reaction when I announced their anniversary from the podium…as well as indicating that I got them the traditional gifts for a 6th wedding anniversary.

Candy and Iron.

Their goodie basket.  For candy…his and hers edible undies, a candy whip, gummi penis and gummi boobs.  For iron…handcuffs.

(It should be noted that Abby asked if she had to give the handcuffs back.  She also informed me two days later that the gummi boobs and penii were really good!)

One of the “Sturgis” games.  Each contestant has a “ball sac” made of two tennis balls in a leg of pantyhose.  The idea is to smack the tennis ball in front of you with your “low hangin’ balls” and knock it across the finish line.

Melissa got some fresh ink in a sweet spot before the night was over.

This is how you Gay up a Harley.

My able bodied assistant!

Mel got more than one tattoo that night!

Special Someone and I spent a good portion of the weekend at one of his floral wholesale suppliers.  The Saturday evening show ended a little after 8.

As we pulled into his driveway Special Someone said “Back up a little.”

Me: “What?”

SS: “Back up a little.”

Me: (backs the truck up a little)

SS: “What is that on the porch?  A cat?”

Me: “Nope.  It’s a possum.”

SS: “A what?”

Me: “A possum.”

SS: “Are they dangerous?”

Me: “They can be if they’re cornered or protecting their young.  Don’t let it bite you…it won’t let go.”

SS: “How do we get it away from the door?”

So…I tried honking the horn, which startled Mr. Opossum but didn’t budge him.  After hitting the horn several times SS punched me in the arm and told me to quit…apparently honking the horn was a little too “white trash.”

Right…there’s a friggin’ possum on the porch and he’s worried about “white trash.”

Then we tried throwing snowballs at it.  That got it moving but not all the way off the porch.  It hid between the house and the railing on the porch.

I tried banging on the porch with a snow shovel.  That got no response.

SS threw a brick at it.  It should be noted that SS is also gay (duh) and as we all know d’ homos are genetically challenged when it comes to a) throwing and b) catching physical objects.  The brick didn’t make an impression on the possum…but it certainly left an impression on the urn sitting on the porch.

I finally shook the railing and the possum scampered off the porch…and into the window well of a basement window.

We went into the house and SS immediately headed for the garage.

Me: “What are you doing?”

SS: “Getting my .22 pistol.”

(Oh, great…SS is going all Clampett on me.)

Me: “You can’t do that.”

SS: “Yes I can.”

Me: “No.  You can’t fire that gun in the city limits.”

So SS grabs a pellet/BB rifle and begins pumping it up.

Me: “That won’t do much good.  It’ll only annoy the damn thing.”

SS: “It might scare it out of the window well.”

Me: “You are not going to shoot the damn possum.  It’ll crawl out on it’s own.”

SS discharges the BB gun into a bag of cat litter…after being reminded that discharging the gun at the bare, concrete floor probably isn’t all that good of an idea.

An hour and a half later, after shutting off all the outside lights, our furry friend was gone.  I can’t wait to see if it shows up on a regular basis.

Incidentally, we did consider calling animal control.  One should always remember, however, that animal control doesn’t capture the animal and turn it loose in an appropriate habitat.  Animal control with euthanize the animal.