Tag Archives: board games

Because you never know what my husband will bring up from the cellar …

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The search for items to sell at a flea market continues and things are being belched up from the basement at an alarming rate. I don’t know if he’ll ever actually go through with this plan, but he certainly is enjoying the trips down memory lane.

Today’s treasure?

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The 1967 version of an adult party game. And judging from the look on that woman’s face, insufficient martinis were consumed before play began.

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The game is simple. 24 cards are placed on top of the feely box, you draw one… then reach inside to pull out the corresponding item.

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Yes, those are teenie tiny dentures. 1967 sounds like a blast.

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Do you need one of these?

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Because I know I don’t.

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Lately the man cave/Barn Mahal has been our money sucking box….

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But I agree, that one is much creepier.

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Okay, I admit a yodeling pickle might be a nice screaming goat accompaniment at our bar… but I restrained myself from ordering one.

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Yeah. I can do without that as well.

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Sorry, but there’s not a board game on earth that would make me want to eat my husband’s Uncle Donny.

Nope.

Not happening.

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The tiles don’t lie.

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My weekly skunking of the husband at Scrabble in the Barn Mahal continues. And now? Even the tiles are getting in on the fun…

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Yes, those were really the letters I drew. And it’s pretty much what I did to the husband in game number one.

Not to be out done, our second game’s tiles had their say as well.

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My last four letters said it all.

Sorry, dear. I only do what the tiles tell me…

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Because sometimes bigger really is better.

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Since skunking my husband at Scrabble has become a weekly pastime… I decided to up our game.

Literally.

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Bigger tiles for the where the hell did I leave my reading glasses now? visually challenged due to encroaching decrepitude crowd.

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And a much bigger, fancier, wooden, swiveling board with raised ridges to keep the letters in place.

How much bigger?

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Well, the box said giant and that’s a pretty apt description.

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So far we’re loving it.

But I’m afraid it’s going to have to be a permanent decorative fixture… because if you think the board is big, you should see the friggin’ enormous box it came in.

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Because Scrabble is better with a little drinkie poo.

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And if you enjoy hard cider?

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You’ve got to try this brand I just discovered at Bootleggers. The liquor store, not this guy…

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Black Widow cider.

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It’s fabulous, and is named after a deadly spider. What more could you ask?

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As for Scrabble?

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I kicked the husband’s butt again, even with three out of the four U’s.

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Let the games begin.

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So now that we have a comfortable, heated and (well stocked with beer) man cave, it was time to get down to some serious board game playing. Covid social restrictions make multi player games like Pictionary and Cards Against Humanity a no go, so we searched for something fun to play with two people.

The husband won’t play Trivial Pursuit or Gin Rummy with me anymore because I wipe the floor with him every time. So we tried a game a friend had given us last year as a gift.

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Simple enough, you finish the lines from various categories… music, literature etc.

We played three games and I skunked my other half three times. Even though I gave him music questions from his favorite song.

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So we moved on to a classic, Scrabble.

It wasn’t an easy start and we didn’t have a lot to build from.

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My task was made even more difficult with letters like these.

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And these.

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And then these.

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But after a marathon four and a half hour game?

I won…. and my husband was pickled.

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Games to play with your mouth breathing friends.

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We all have them. That special group of friends you’ve known for years but don’t like to advertise. You can’t invite them out to dinner with your crew, and you won’t bring them to the cocktail party at work. But thanks to me? You could ask them to your house to play a game right up their alley.

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So they’re not the brightest bulbs in the pack?

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No problem.

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This is a game that won’t embarrass the less than erudite among us.

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And they get to hit people with a club!

You know they’re going to love it.

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Neanderthals.

Admit it, you know a few.

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