the city newspaper thought they were the best band in baltimore
one of the best weekends of my life!
weeks too for that matter, and i am glad that for the most part, i have been saying those (or variations upon those) nearly every weekend of my life.
Other than waking up from a night terror-style dreamscape about boning/getting boned by the dad on arrested development, all else goes swimmingly (despite the torrential downpour of rain). Thursday catherine came into town and we got exceedingly drunk and slopped through the allston hurricane drinking in public (opps) and screaming at a violent level (well. actually it was just me who did those things). Much funny conversations seasoned with personal self-disclosure. And speaking of personal self-disclosure, i also had the only revealing conversation EVER in the history of our FRIENDSHIP with a mate from the plains. tally-ho!
Then friday was mr mccabe's dance party. the hits were played and the booty shook, but for some unexplained reason i grabbed a broken umbrella and ran off alone. huh? BUT LAST NIGHT! Boy howdy what a show (in every sense of the word)!! After having a lovely swaree in our abode (which would have been less lovely if it didnt smell like someone was shitting their pants every 3rd second), we puttered over to maria's 70s dance party (well. actually i pissed off the neighbors first. opps again) where the sentence "NO-- this was from 79-- I SWEAR" was said much too much and noah pasted the pages 70-79 from some catalogue on his chest in a grand interpretation of the theme. THEN some people stumbled over to myer byer's place and had some delightful conversation...which i guess at 2 am someone from my house conversed with someone from the band 'new flesh' and convinced them to play a show in the middle of the night in our kitchen. SO FUN. I am also glad people took pictures, as having all of our art hangings askewed isnt nearly enough documentation of what the hell went on. when my camera returns, i shall upload some for your (whoever you are) viewing pleasure.
p.s. noah is dead in the next room. too dead to go to the hospital. broken rib. broken foot. and dont drink a whole bottle of parrot's bay. ever. the end.
weeks too for that matter, and i am glad that for the most part, i have been saying those (or variations upon those) nearly every weekend of my life.
Other than waking up from a night terror-style dreamscape about boning/getting boned by the dad on arrested development, all else goes swimmingly (despite the torrential downpour of rain). Thursday catherine came into town and we got exceedingly drunk and slopped through the allston hurricane drinking in public (opps) and screaming at a violent level (well. actually it was just me who did those things). Much funny conversations seasoned with personal self-disclosure. And speaking of personal self-disclosure, i also had the only revealing conversation EVER in the history of our FRIENDSHIP with a mate from the plains. tally-ho!
Then friday was mr mccabe's dance party. the hits were played and the booty shook, but for some unexplained reason i grabbed a broken umbrella and ran off alone. huh? BUT LAST NIGHT! Boy howdy what a show (in every sense of the word)!! After having a lovely swaree in our abode (which would have been less lovely if it didnt smell like someone was shitting their pants every 3rd second), we puttered over to maria's 70s dance party (well. actually i pissed off the neighbors first. opps again) where the sentence "NO-- this was from 79-- I SWEAR" was said much too much and noah pasted the pages 70-79 from some catalogue on his chest in a grand interpretation of the theme. THEN some people stumbled over to myer byer's place and had some delightful conversation...which i guess at 2 am someone from my house conversed with someone from the band 'new flesh' and convinced them to play a show in the middle of the night in our kitchen. SO FUN. I am also glad people took pictures, as having all of our art hangings askewed isnt nearly enough documentation of what the hell went on. when my camera returns, i shall upload some for your (whoever you are) viewing pleasure.
p.s. noah is dead in the next room. too dead to go to the hospital. broken rib. broken foot. and dont drink a whole bottle of parrot's bay. ever. the end.