If you can't decide, pick em all... Oh wait, that might be a bit expensive...
Okay, so, tonight is a double dose of deliciousness. I'm updating on the week of Kairos and on the Week of Spring Break.
Kairos, was, quote simply, fucking incredible. I know that this should have been written the weekend I came back, but things came around, shit happened, and I was delayed in writing it. But it was fucking worth it. Because now I'm actually getting the past two weeks done.
So, back to Kairos... best four days of my life. Seriously. They were incredible. Thanks to everyone who made it possible.
And that's pretty much it on Kairos. It was just... incredible. And synonyms.
Saturday was simply put, amazing. Still riding on that Kairos high, I went for a two hour long walk in the pouring rain. It was relaxing (and awesome). Then, the day started to get a little shaky. Plans were tenative, because I didn't want to drive and pay the fucking 10 dollar rip off of parking. Anyway, Ross, whom I was now driving, because of some other completely unrelated story, and I embarked on our journey to the train station, thinking that we might be able to take the train down. But, unknown to me, Jim had a full car, and the fucking trains, which run at half hour intervals during the day, change to hour intervals at night, the time when there would be the highest volume on the trains. Way to go SEPTA! Make yourselves bankrupt, please. Anyway, we ended up driving.
So we arrive in Camden and Jim and posse are still quite far away, time wise. Something to do with a ramp closed, I don't know, Jersey already has roundabouts, why make it worse? So while waiting for them, Ross found some satiation at a local McDonald's, which didn't look to appetizing, and we cruised the streets of Camden like the thugs that we were. (Actually, I cruised the streets, Ross hid in the back seat.) Anyway, we arrived, they were late... we waited, they were late. I was hungry, and I had a delicious spicy sausage from the hot dog vendor. Now, I will have to tell everyone that I haven't had a hot dog since I quite nearly choked on one 10 years ago, but I decided, or rather, my stomach and nose decided, becuase it smelled incredibly delectable, and I was hungry. So I loaded it up with the works, minus the onions, because he didn't have any. One word: delicious.
Oh, a brief interjection. While eating my spicy sausage, a hummer limo pulls up, and from the window, an incredibly drunk/wasted/schwasted/pished girl yells to me, "damn you look sexy eating that hot dog." I didn't know whether to be offended or suprised, because that is something that one just doesn't yell. She also apparently flashed the vendor man, which was a nice suprise, although I didn't see it. Out step several girls, and, then, one black man. Who is dressed, quite honestly, like a flaming metrosexual. And, according to the driver, he was. "No white mother would ever let those fine young white girls out with a black man... unless he was a faggot." Sir, indeed, I think you were correct.
Finally, J-Posse arrived. Took them fucking long enough. Anyway, J-Posse consisted of Jim Gallagher, Mike DiMarcangelo, "Action Jackson" Taras, Danielle and Kerry, who both do not have last names. So then, who but Dan Nowlan shows up. Dan is a very close friend of mine, and we had a little catch-up of conversation on recent months. And then Andrew Packer showed up, who is also a good friend. From there, the show went on. Opener for Franz Ferdinand was "The Cribs", some band from the U.K. I only caught the last song of their set, but it seemed like it might have been half decent.
During the first intermission, I lounged in my row of chairs. While Jackson and DiMarc were up in 204, cramped against the wall, I lay across 5 seats in 102. It was wonderful, and I think, well worth the extra 4 dollars. I also hopped rows, visiting Jim and Danielle and Kerry and Ross in 104. I stayed there for most of Franz, dancing my ass off, quite a staggering performane, I might add. All good things come to an end, and, eventually, though thankfully it was after "Take Me Out", the people whose seats I was dancing in arrived, and I had to make 11 on 2d6 for my Evasion Roll. /DnD
Death Cab arrives. I met, but not really, some chick named Marie, although I doubt I'll ever see her again, in the future of the world. Death Cab was extraordinary. Simply extraordinary. I eventually, through some sly batering, obtained a 104 ticket, which happened to be Marie's, and made my way to J-Posse, although by the time I got there, the concert was pretty much over.
Remember those drunk girls and the sole blacktrosexual man? I saw them, and, not suprisingly, he was sitting quite attentively. Tsk tsk.
Fast foreward to getting out of Camden, past the brief comedy routine with the person parked next to me. I really did forget my polyethylene torch at home, and my wire cutters were broken. Sorry man. Fast foreward past some loud, high quality Notorious and past some wrong turns in Camden to... the Silver Diner.
Ross and DiMarc, you were terrible disturbances to the tables in front, beside, and diaganolly across from us. Both of you should be ashamed. Seriously, take the walk of shame. You deserve to have rotten pie thrown at you for the way you made that father of the girl who was sitting with her friends who went to the concert listen to your conversation about creamers. Anyway, despite long, run on sentences, I had a biscuit, which was good, and a root beer float, which utterly sucked. Like, as in, sucked more than Fall Out Boy. It was ridiculously disgusting tasting. Terrible order.
So then while Jim drove home Danielle and Kerry, I drove to DiMarc's house, and at the turn to his development, I powerslid and it was awesome.
Then, after a brief demonstration of the awesomeness of Half-Life 2, sleep overcame me.
One last thing before I end this entry... Never, ever, unless you plan on having a not so pleasent meal, order lox at a diner. I did, and it was terrible. Worst decision I've ever made. Okay, not really, but it ranks.
Kairos, was, quote simply, fucking incredible. I know that this should have been written the weekend I came back, but things came around, shit happened, and I was delayed in writing it. But it was fucking worth it. Because now I'm actually getting the past two weeks done.
So, back to Kairos... best four days of my life. Seriously. They were incredible. Thanks to everyone who made it possible.
And that's pretty much it on Kairos. It was just... incredible. And synonyms.
Saturday was simply put, amazing. Still riding on that Kairos high, I went for a two hour long walk in the pouring rain. It was relaxing (and awesome). Then, the day started to get a little shaky. Plans were tenative, because I didn't want to drive and pay the fucking 10 dollar rip off of parking. Anyway, Ross, whom I was now driving, because of some other completely unrelated story, and I embarked on our journey to the train station, thinking that we might be able to take the train down. But, unknown to me, Jim had a full car, and the fucking trains, which run at half hour intervals during the day, change to hour intervals at night, the time when there would be the highest volume on the trains. Way to go SEPTA! Make yourselves bankrupt, please. Anyway, we ended up driving.
So we arrive in Camden and Jim and posse are still quite far away, time wise. Something to do with a ramp closed, I don't know, Jersey already has roundabouts, why make it worse? So while waiting for them, Ross found some satiation at a local McDonald's, which didn't look to appetizing, and we cruised the streets of Camden like the thugs that we were. (Actually, I cruised the streets, Ross hid in the back seat.) Anyway, we arrived, they were late... we waited, they were late. I was hungry, and I had a delicious spicy sausage from the hot dog vendor. Now, I will have to tell everyone that I haven't had a hot dog since I quite nearly choked on one 10 years ago, but I decided, or rather, my stomach and nose decided, becuase it smelled incredibly delectable, and I was hungry. So I loaded it up with the works, minus the onions, because he didn't have any. One word: delicious.
Oh, a brief interjection. While eating my spicy sausage, a hummer limo pulls up, and from the window, an incredibly drunk/wasted/schwasted/pished girl yells to me, "damn you look sexy eating that hot dog." I didn't know whether to be offended or suprised, because that is something that one just doesn't yell. She also apparently flashed the vendor man, which was a nice suprise, although I didn't see it. Out step several girls, and, then, one black man. Who is dressed, quite honestly, like a flaming metrosexual. And, according to the driver, he was. "No white mother would ever let those fine young white girls out with a black man... unless he was a faggot." Sir, indeed, I think you were correct.
Finally, J-Posse arrived. Took them fucking long enough. Anyway, J-Posse consisted of Jim Gallagher, Mike DiMarcangelo, "Action Jackson" Taras, Danielle and Kerry, who both do not have last names. So then, who but Dan Nowlan shows up. Dan is a very close friend of mine, and we had a little catch-up of conversation on recent months. And then Andrew Packer showed up, who is also a good friend. From there, the show went on. Opener for Franz Ferdinand was "The Cribs", some band from the U.K. I only caught the last song of their set, but it seemed like it might have been half decent.
During the first intermission, I lounged in my row of chairs. While Jackson and DiMarc were up in 204, cramped against the wall, I lay across 5 seats in 102. It was wonderful, and I think, well worth the extra 4 dollars. I also hopped rows, visiting Jim and Danielle and Kerry and Ross in 104. I stayed there for most of Franz, dancing my ass off, quite a staggering performane, I might add. All good things come to an end, and, eventually, though thankfully it was after "Take Me Out", the people whose seats I was dancing in arrived, and I had to make 11 on 2d6 for my Evasion Roll. /DnD
Death Cab arrives. I met, but not really, some chick named Marie, although I doubt I'll ever see her again, in the future of the world. Death Cab was extraordinary. Simply extraordinary. I eventually, through some sly batering, obtained a 104 ticket, which happened to be Marie's, and made my way to J-Posse, although by the time I got there, the concert was pretty much over.
Remember those drunk girls and the sole blacktrosexual man? I saw them, and, not suprisingly, he was sitting quite attentively. Tsk tsk.
Fast foreward to getting out of Camden, past the brief comedy routine with the person parked next to me. I really did forget my polyethylene torch at home, and my wire cutters were broken. Sorry man. Fast foreward past some loud, high quality Notorious and past some wrong turns in Camden to... the Silver Diner.
Ross and DiMarc, you were terrible disturbances to the tables in front, beside, and diaganolly across from us. Both of you should be ashamed. Seriously, take the walk of shame. You deserve to have rotten pie thrown at you for the way you made that father of the girl who was sitting with her friends who went to the concert listen to your conversation about creamers. Anyway, despite long, run on sentences, I had a biscuit, which was good, and a root beer float, which utterly sucked. Like, as in, sucked more than Fall Out Boy. It was ridiculously disgusting tasting. Terrible order.
So then while Jim drove home Danielle and Kerry, I drove to DiMarc's house, and at the turn to his development, I powerslid and it was awesome.
Then, after a brief demonstration of the awesomeness of Half-Life 2, sleep overcame me.
One last thing before I end this entry... Never, ever, unless you plan on having a not so pleasent meal, order lox at a diner. I did, and it was terrible. Worst decision I've ever made. Okay, not really, but it ranks.