Breaking Bladder

Rob and I have had finale-watching parties at our house before. And by "parties" I mean "sit on our couch and be boring with us extravaganzas." And by "extravaganzas" I mean "would you like a dusty Little Debbie Swiss Cake Roll from the back of our pantry or a glass of tap water because we are all out of everything moderately cold and tasty and watch out! things are about to get crazy up in herr with this UNIVERSAL REMOTE WE'RE ABOUT TO WHIP OUT." Awww snap. The Amazing Race never saw so much crazy.

Our friends? Well, our friends invited us to their Breaking Bad finale-watching party last night, and we walked into this:

Walter cooking. Jambalaya.

And after I had caught my breath from hyperventilating with laughter and wiped the tears from my eyes, Skyler showed up, and suddenly this White family photo sesh happened:

Skyler's a babe. I'm still speechless over what to say about Walt.

And after I had wiped the tears from my eyes a second time, blew my nose, laughed all over again, then realized the tighty whities had permanently burned my eyeballs and destroyed whatever minute sense of "friend boundaries" that had existed prior to this evening, we all sat down to watch the season finale of Breaking Bad.

Three cheers for fun friends who make life a little bit a dumptruck-full more interesting!

And three cheers for understanding friends who agree to get dressed before sitting next to Rob on the couch! (Three half-hearted cheers. Because I probably would have paid good garage sailing money to watch that scene unfold.)

I permanently surrender all my finale-watching hosting responsibilities after last night. I simply can't compete.

*****

I don't even know what to recommend to read after this one. My eyeballs still ache.

More half-nakedness? My Binder Full of Women

An unrelated blog in everything but the title? Breaking Back

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