La musique: nirvana x a million.

Dear diary: Jackpot.

The Bruises are indicitive of a good weekend. Some are from trying to break dance, others from trying to leap down a good number of my stairs, others still from getting gang raped into a speakerbox, then there's my ass cheek. If someone told me I was hit in the ass with a baseball bat I wouldn't be at all surprized. Others still are a mystery.
A brief synopsis-
My Party was wicked fucking hot. Fireworks, running through cemetaries, dog after dog after dog, and all other things found only in Fort Augustus.
A sample of the dialogue:
"Dont worry about Matt, he's still pissed about tianamin square." -Andrew T.
"Man, fuck off, dance knows no gender." -Me
"Naw, Matt's a gentleman." -Some liar
Saturday night, after a few Corona with Chris I decided to take in the Nirvana tribute at Melon's. My ears will never forgive me, but being up front screaming my fucking head off up front with me boys was dy-no-mite. The vibe in there was incredible, as different as we all were, I felt a connection with everyone in that bar. Hard to explain without sounding like an idiot, but a great effing time.
I found Chris and some chicks and we went for Chinese and crashed.
Check out pics of the party Chuck B. style @ www.fryingcarrot.blogspot.com