Marc
I hate missing more than one day of writing. There's so much to cover and never enough room. So, I'll keep it short.
First things first, happy birthday wishes go out to our very own Zook and the lovely Miss Loidl of Australian Bloggin' fame. We're all three older now, and a bit wiser (pshaw!), right? Congrats, kids.
Second thing, I'm sitting in my parent's living room with my Dad, my Grandpa (aka - Papa), and my little brother, and we're listening to Phil Collins. It's a funny picture.
Third: Last night was FUN! We went to the bars, 1997 Illinois State University crew intact and almost fully present. We kind of got split up at one point because of some dipshit bouncers who tried to tell us that hats weren't allowed at their bar. "What?" we ask. "It's just like any show you go to," they said. "What shows?" I ask. "Punk shows," they say. Jeff laughs at them, and next we know we've got a snarling badass on our hands. Fuck that, folks. We're out of here.
Fourth: I'm way too deranged for my own good. Thanks to Jenn for pointing it out to me last night. Humbug.
Fifth: I'm moved out of the Panaphobic Compound. It's still a shithole, it's still a mess. There are going to be some angry landlords on our hands in, oh say ... 10 months. Fuck 'em. Let 'em riot.
Sixth: That damn Strike Anywhere album is still totally awesome. sidenote: my dad just told me that they suck
Seventh: I won't be seeing Matt Fast naked so much anymore. I have no more reason to live.
Finally: Home's awesome, cause there's free food, and Papa's telling me that he wants me to come over and listen to some of his jazz records, and Grammie's got money in a card for me, and my parent's bought me a six-pack of Bass for my birthday. Mmm ... Bass.
I'll do more tomorrow. Promise. Nice to see you again.
I hate missing more than one day of writing. There's so much to cover and never enough room. So, I'll keep it short.
First things first, happy birthday wishes go out to our very own Zook and the lovely Miss Loidl of Australian Bloggin' fame. We're all three older now, and a bit wiser (pshaw!), right? Congrats, kids.
Second thing, I'm sitting in my parent's living room with my Dad, my Grandpa (aka - Papa), and my little brother, and we're listening to Phil Collins. It's a funny picture.
Third: Last night was FUN! We went to the bars, 1997 Illinois State University crew intact and almost fully present. We kind of got split up at one point because of some dipshit bouncers who tried to tell us that hats weren't allowed at their bar. "What?" we ask. "It's just like any show you go to," they said. "What shows?" I ask. "Punk shows," they say. Jeff laughs at them, and next we know we've got a snarling badass on our hands. Fuck that, folks. We're out of here.
Fourth: I'm way too deranged for my own good. Thanks to Jenn for pointing it out to me last night. Humbug.
Fifth: I'm moved out of the Panaphobic Compound. It's still a shithole, it's still a mess. There are going to be some angry landlords on our hands in, oh say ... 10 months. Fuck 'em. Let 'em riot.
Sixth: That damn Strike Anywhere album is still totally awesome. sidenote: my dad just told me that they suck
Seventh: I won't be seeing Matt Fast naked so much anymore. I have no more reason to live.
Finally: Home's awesome, cause there's free food, and Papa's telling me that he wants me to come over and listen to some of his jazz records, and Grammie's got money in a card for me, and my parent's bought me a six-pack of Bass for my birthday. Mmm ... Bass.
I'll do more tomorrow. Promise. Nice to see you again.
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