I had a hell of a weekend.
Saturday night, out to Ralph's for a dinner-type party and some poker. Ralph's girlfriend Megan's parents are in town from Joe-Juh so we had a grand old time. Got home around 3:30. Then Monday sat around, made lunch, watched Field of Dreams, and met up with Ralph, Megan, and her parents to go to St. Pete to drink some beers and watch the fireworks.
St. Pete's fireworks were pretty badass. Moreso, though, I was happy just to spend time with Ralph & Megan. I really, really get along with Megan well, owing mainly to that she and I are far closer in age than I am to the rest of my friends (I'm 26, Megan is 23, our other friends are in their 30s) so we have that going for us. It's nice to have people around you who legitimately care about your wellbeing and offer advice based on this.
We came back from St. Pete and Ralph's neighbour Les was about to set off his display of some quite complicated fireworks. Amazingly (at least coming from a state where you can only buy sparklers) pretty much all fireworks are legal here in Florida. So Les had this enormous box that shot out dozens of real exploding shells just like a real fireworks display. It was pretty cool, except he set it, strangely, on top of a cardboard box. Mind you, this man is a safety inspector for a living.
So the box collapses and exploding shells of a dozen colors go shooting off in all directions across the neigbhourhood. Some go in his garage, some are shooting at my car, et cetera. I am laughing uncontrollably as I hide behind Megan's truck. Megan goes sprinting down the street, trying to avoid a laser beam that ends up hitting her in the head... she was okay, thankfully. though she was in panic mode for a while, she thought it had singed her hair.
it reminded me of an incident in high school when a gross of bottle rockets sitting on eb's driveway was accidentally ignited by a spinning color thing and 144 bottle rockets started firing in all directions. it's the closest approximation to warfare i've ever been in. well, i'm guessing that real soldiers in real warfare aren't laughing their asses off the entire time.
pegasus lounge tonight for open mic. allegedly i'm in a play, or something, though they haven't called me in a week.
Saturday night, out to Ralph's for a dinner-type party and some poker. Ralph's girlfriend Megan's parents are in town from Joe-Juh so we had a grand old time. Got home around 3:30. Then Monday sat around, made lunch, watched Field of Dreams, and met up with Ralph, Megan, and her parents to go to St. Pete to drink some beers and watch the fireworks.
St. Pete's fireworks were pretty badass. Moreso, though, I was happy just to spend time with Ralph & Megan. I really, really get along with Megan well, owing mainly to that she and I are far closer in age than I am to the rest of my friends (I'm 26, Megan is 23, our other friends are in their 30s) so we have that going for us. It's nice to have people around you who legitimately care about your wellbeing and offer advice based on this.
We came back from St. Pete and Ralph's neighbour Les was about to set off his display of some quite complicated fireworks. Amazingly (at least coming from a state where you can only buy sparklers) pretty much all fireworks are legal here in Florida. So Les had this enormous box that shot out dozens of real exploding shells just like a real fireworks display. It was pretty cool, except he set it, strangely, on top of a cardboard box. Mind you, this man is a safety inspector for a living.
So the box collapses and exploding shells of a dozen colors go shooting off in all directions across the neigbhourhood. Some go in his garage, some are shooting at my car, et cetera. I am laughing uncontrollably as I hide behind Megan's truck. Megan goes sprinting down the street, trying to avoid a laser beam that ends up hitting her in the head... she was okay, thankfully. though she was in panic mode for a while, she thought it had singed her hair.
it reminded me of an incident in high school when a gross of bottle rockets sitting on eb's driveway was accidentally ignited by a spinning color thing and 144 bottle rockets started firing in all directions. it's the closest approximation to warfare i've ever been in. well, i'm guessing that real soldiers in real warfare aren't laughing their asses off the entire time.
pegasus lounge tonight for open mic. allegedly i'm in a play, or something, though they haven't called me in a week.
