Poker Face

It started simple. A few guys, beers, some cards... Now, it is 16 people (5 of them kids) and dinner. Dinner that I am cooking. Shit.
One of them has this legendary reputation for eating... that he could up-end my refrigerator into his face then come back for the pantry. So now it is a couple of single guys- a few married guys- their wives, and all the kids. One who eats 5 times as much as anyone else- and single guys... hmmm... Single. That means their idea of "Bring something to share" is a bag of ruffles and a can of frito-lay dip. Shit. Shit.
I just went to the commiscary and spent over $100.00 on food for this gig, and tomorrow I get to hit the class six (that's military for liquor store) for the beer and ice and what not. Bottles and bags I have no room for in my cabinets. The damned doors will no doubt be spring loaded traps waiting to go off at the fist person who touches the handle, covering them with dry noodles and potato chips. Better clean out the pantry, too. Shit. Shit. Shit.
It's a fuck-load of people. I have opted to take this thing potluck. It takes some of the burden off, assuming anyone besides my buddy Heidi brings stuff. I have put together a list of snacky but filling goodies, and if that's not enough, screw em, they can order Pizza Attack. This whole card game got out of control really quick. I am just that damn cool that EVERYONE wants to party with Freud. You heard it here first... I rock.
So tomorrow I make fruit salad, and spinach dip, and make my house smell like a dirty old man's balls by making deviled eggs. Just so there is less preparing and panicking for me to do on Saturday. Saturday is the day to do all the other stuff'n'do I forgot. There is always that last minute "Oh, Shit!" list....

I better win some money at this poker game. The things I put myself through for a "good time".