Goulash Centennial Illustrated

When I first got the idea for the Goulash Centennial as a way to celebrate my 100th post, I was thinking it'd be a classy affair. You know, one of those black tie only soirees, with a bottle of swanky champagne, some catered hors d'oeuvres, and a string quartet. What we ended up having with on Saturday night was a bunch of Old Milwaukee, some Cheese Balls, and the Topless Box. Suffice to say, it was the coolest night ever. I humbly present to you then the Goulash Centennial in pictures.

Hit Continue to see the rest of the night.

The Cheese Ball to person proportion was exceedingly high. This gig was a joint celebration both for the Centennial and for the bday of one Cooterbutt Jones. Her parents took it upon themselves to supply the snackies. In turn, I took it upon myself to supply the awesome.

The hardest part of this whole thing was the waiting. After having to wait so many weeks, we were tempted to start this thing at 5:30 AM. Only by the grace of Jacott were we able to contain ourselves until 8 PM. Here, Frito bides his time before the hurricane.

The official sister of Goulash and her friend Veronica wait for something cool to happen. They have no idea what they're in for.

When we finally dipped into the booze, things were restrained at first. Danza gave us a thoughtful commentary on the relationship between Mahoney and Tackleberry in Police Academy.

And then, like a blood thirsty hyena, the party desecended upon us in the form of our Guests of Honor, none other than Mike and Julie, the kind souls who hosted us when we rocked the dog track in Galveston a few months back. Partying with these guys is like playing catch with Willie Mays.

Does anything say 100th post on your site like drinking whiskey that comes from a mason jar? Here I am, pouring two shots of freedom for Boj and myself. This was clearly the best $8 investment we ever made.

Try this one on for size, Pythagoras: Crazy hat + unexplained stain on shirt = getting your freak on. P Diddy and Cooterbutt know where to find the rock.

Boj ought to be wearing a sign that says "Don't Arrest This Man". Here he is, displaying his pinch of death.

Some saboteur (possibly Schumin) snuck a bottle of Jagermeister into the party and made us stand in a circle and drink it until we finished. Certainly, the most intelligent move of the evening. Here Dave puts the baby to bed.

They know who the guest of honor is.

And then, a time honored tradition: the Topless Box. The Topless Box is an old Indian legend, where supposedly if you found a big cardboard box and got inside of it, you had to take your shirt off. Here, Danza prepares the mechanism.

Can P Diddy and I withstand its magic? Hell no. After this, someone made the incredibly savvy decision to turn the camera off, thus preserving whatever dignity I have left.

After a party of Andre the Giant like proportions, the only way to crash is in Andre the Giant like style. Sister of Goulash and friend of sister in Goulash with their Jim Morrison impression.

One of the charming decorations was a big Goulash banner that everyone had to sign. The signature count hit 20 before Boj hacked the sign up with his machete.

Thus, the end of the Goulash Centennial. Let the countdown begin for the Bicentennial.

Posted by Cody at November 24, 2003 6:03 PM