Memories from the weekend;

Attendees:

Rod, Leo, Deano, Guy, Harps, Mowbs, Freud, Scuiser, Coney and Beaups .

Absent: Nob, Mel, Halley, Cookie, and Potsy

The ASSHOLE as voted by his peers is Deano to help him "move forward with his life"

Voting totals:

Deano 7

Laura 1

Leo 1

Cruiser 1

New Beapsisms:

Perma hole

New Payment methods:

$250 in quarters, Dimes, Nickels and Pennies from Rod

New Sleeping and Party shifts:

Friday night everyone had a "nap" from 11PMish to 2AM when Beaups and Deano arrived and we all woke up to start the late night party shift. Rod and Deano finish off the scotch and themselves by staying up to see the sun rise.

Mowb's play by play of the weekend;

Gentlemen of the asshole club, the impossible has finally happened. For the first time in the storied 24 year history of the AOTW….a woman has garnered a vote for asshole. Naturally the individual casting the vote was merely making a point…no woman could actually accept such a highly vaulted honour…nor would the members ever imagine to bestow the crown upon her. Nevertheless, Laura McCallum has earned her place in the hallowed historical halls of assholedome. She truly is the female version of an asshole….at least in the minds of the members….and you can take that for what it’s worth.

It was pretty much a landslide vote from there….Deano earned 7 votes (+ Laura’s …he was awarded 2 votes for that) for a total of nine, while Leo and Cruiser snatched a vote each. Interesting to note that the only two true assholes…Mowbs and Roderick were shut out in the 2005 asshole voting.

This year’s event had the incredible venue of Prince Edward County.http://www.pec.on.ca/Welcome.html Floyd organized the main event to perfection and Harps was the generous host for those partaking in the 3rd day side event. Six assholes traveled to Picton on Thurs eve, to be boarded in one of many hostels in the ever-expanding Harper real estate empire in the quaint town of Picton. Harps, Hot Rod, Boomer, Cruiser, Mowbs, and Guy all stayed up to 4am around the infamous and traditional bonfire. Most of the talk naturally centered around assholes who were not there…in particular, those known to not be attending the main event. As per the norm, Cruiser refused to retire until all the pilsners were drained, even insisting on quaffing some dark local crap that had been hibernating in the dark recesses of the fridge.

Harps had made the monumental mental error of booking an 8:30 am tee time for Friday (the fucker), so the 6 hungover or still drunk assholes headed to the links for some forgettable swat/fuck. The ass dragging boys perked up when the set their eyes upon the penile destroyer named Stephanie…ooo la la. Despite a half hearted attempt at some old pick up lines and muted eye contact, the 6 men left the golf course with nothing but their putters in their hand and a warm vision of what could have been.

Off we drove to the highly anticipated venue of “By the Bay” asshole cottages on the shores of some fucking big lake. Upon arrival, the excitement levels rose as we could see the potential this place had to be one of the best locales ever for 10 men to drink, fart, swear and smoke. Imagine our disappointment when we realized the damned organizer had not yet arrived. No beer, no key to get in…no nothing. The ever resourceful boys naturally had a just-in-case-case on ice , broke into the main cottage and proceeded to drink and lament Floyd’s lack of timing and planning. In short order we had the place scoped out and set up for the party. Soon after Floyd phoned to say he was on his way and close by.

Upon arrival, all was forgiven of Floyd as we handed out the accolades on the selection of the excellent asshole den. Not to mention he showed up with 48 sausages and buns, beer and scotch. Only thing missing was a boom box and honey dijon mustard. (aside…to all future asshole organizers….NEVER bring the yellow fuckin pukey French’s fuckin mustard to a sausage party). Sausages were quickly bbqued and consumed, bon fire was laid and lit, bullshit and farting commenced, beer and scotch was jammed down parched throats. But there were still 3 asshole members missing. Of course, there were five dumb fuck assholes who for various lame excuses, were not even planning to attend, but where were the three who were expected? Floyd had to fight off the scavengers to hold steady on 3 sausages to feed the latecomers.

Finally we could take it no more and called Daryl’s wife at 9:30. She panicked cause he was on his way but had not arrived. Finally at 10:30 he showed up. It seems the dumb shit decided that Friday night of the asshole weekend was an excellent night to work late at the office, so he didn’t even get on the road till 8pm.

Now we had 8 men…missing 2 true assholes…one for getting married, one for getting divorced. By 11pm, can you believe this…it was decided that Deano and Beaups were not going to arrive until 2am (real troopers eh!) all the way from Detroit USA, so all assholes were allowed “nap time”. In case you are not familiar with the AOTW rules and regulations, in particular article 9.3a….no asshole can go to bed on night one until all assholes are accounted for, fed and beered. So to circumvent this rule, it was mutually agreed that, like nursery school, a 2-3 hour nap would be allowed with the understanding that at 2am, upon the arrival of the nearly wed and the divorced till dead, all assholes would have to get up and toast the late arrivers.

Within minutes of 11pm…the snores could be heard across the lake. Beaups and Deano, arrived at 1:30am, the half-hour early arrival being no surprise given that Beaups was driving. Upon arrival, imagine the waves of shock and nausea which overcame the pair as they gazed upon the almost empty bonfire area…no one was up to greet them, other than Mowbs….all assholes snoozing. When informed of the rule circumvention, Deano wasted no time in arousing all he could find and Beaups leaned on the A6 horn to catch any neighbours who thought we were sleeping. Much to the surprise of all, the boys arose form their sleeping bags and rejoined the bonfire. The general party ended at 4am with the exception of Harps, Rod, and Guy…who stayed up till 7am drinking scotch and holding a divorce/dating/life counseling session for the little guy, who looked like he needed a drink or two and a scotch or three.

Breakfast came early for a few, and Floyd did not disappoint…laying out all the egg mcmuffins we could eat and copious quantities of java. Even yogurt for the fags was available. Mostly we wandered aimlessly around the cottage lot all morning with coffee in hand…deciding whether to puke, fart or shit. By about 11am we departed around the bay to the 2 sailboats. Mowbs, Daryl and of course Harps were a little nervous about sea sickness given the size of the chop, but the host Peter assured us we were in for an excellent day of sailing. He did not disappoint…6 men on the 32 footer and 4 on the 28…set sail that day for a 5 hour tour, a five hour tour. The weather started getting rough, the grimy shit was tossed, if not for the courage of the beerless skip, the assholes would be lost. Enough already…in honour of Bob Denver who died that week.

Sailing was great…we rafted two boats together at 2pm in the sun and calm of an eddy and proceeded to eat all available food. Went for a swim which was excellent and drank all the beer. When we discovered all beer had been consumed, we turned to wine. When we drank all that, we sought out our just-in-case-bottle- of-scotch….which we also drank….so then we told the fuckin skipper to sail us back to land right quick cause we were getting thirsty.

From the pier it was decided that a small advance party would go directly to Wapoues winery to scope out the joint for dinner, while the remainder of the lads, headed back to the cottages to clean up for dinner. A few errors emerged from that fateful trip…..one was assuming that Beaups knew where the cottages were, a second was that a BMW can’t keep up to an Audi, the third was that Leo knows how to drive a BMW and finally that the rad on a BMW will last beyond 100k. The combination of those errors resulted in the lads being stranded somewhere in the country with a blown rad. Fortunately Mowbs had brought his mechanic on the road trip, and Beaups had the problem diagnosed and repaired in under 2 minutes. Back on the road we went…over to the WaaaaPussy winery.

An elegant restaurant in the eyes of many assholes….we had chosen to dine on the outside terrace, overlooking the vineyard, bordered by the lake. Many appetizers and entrées were consumed…but the best part and thankfully over half the bill, was the wines, followed by the mandatory liqueurs/drambuies. After chatting up the waiter, the weird owner and a few of the kitchen staff….plus getting a free round of liqueurs, we set off to try and find our little cottage once again.

Bon fire was once again lit post haste, beers came out….too full from dinner for sausages……Beaups did grace us with one of his better “Beaupisms” this night. “A hole is a hole …until it becomes a perma-hole”. A number of the assholes were feeling under the weather and called it early…but the bon fire and bullshit raged on through the night. Rod entertained us with stories of Thailand that some won’t soon forget and a debate raged on about whether you need money to be happy….of course you do, how silly can you be.

FLOYD…I can’t remember what else we did this night….can you?

Everyone slept in on Sunday morning until we were all pretty sure Floyd had finished cleaning up and had breakfast ready once again. Coffees, farting, belching….curiously no puking…all took place around packing up the joint, packing up the vehicles and preparing for the golf game. There was the usual speculation, bullshit and arguing around the handicaps, the game to play, the teams etc. Eventually we had 1 team of 4 and 2 teams of 3…and we were off to Barcovan Golf Club for the annual tourney. Sadly upon arrival the penile destroyer Stephanie was not in sight, despite all of our best prayers.

The teams were well planned as the net scores after 18 grueling holes was 72, 72, 73…a tie requiring a playoff. There is some debate as to whether a tie was warranted as one team captain, and best player of the bunch, was recorded on video using a 10 yard foot wedge on number 17 to set up the tie. Nevertheless…we set off for a one-hole playoff on hole number one. Floyd sat out as did Beaups. It was Mowbs+Cruiser versus Rod+Deano. Both teams recorded bogeys…..still tied….off to the putting green. The team of Mowbs, Cruiser Floyd won the tourney with a 5 versus a 6 for the losers in the putting contest.

Now the culmination of all our assholiness behavior…THE VOTE. Sitting in the sun on the deck of the clubhouse…the little guy Deano, with the help of Laura, was voted asshole for the second time in three years with a landslide vote. I would like to know who votes for Leo every year?? Scruiser got the other vote. We did a few more mandatory actions prior to departure….had our photos taken many times from many cameras and we planned Beaups’ wedding gift and party activities….but most important of all, in true Deano style, he guzzled the required volume of scotch from the trophy without puking. The author estimates it was a good 5 ounces this year. Within seconds his eyes were watering and he was slurring out some dumb sentimental acceptance speech , before he slumped into a chair, unable to stand straight any longer. Then with legs crossed, and hand-slapping knee, he continued to espouse on the merits of dating and in particular a chocolate flavoured one named Rachael. It was classic Deano. We could see Beaups start to roll his eyes as he came to the realization he had a 7 hour drive home with this chatty asshole.

We are all looking very much forward to next year’s event…wherever that may be, and hope that a few more assholes show up next year. The little guy will not disappoint.

And that was it, so we all fucked off home.