Marc
"Party Patrol sucks, bro!"
Ah. Parties. I enjoy having people over. I enjoy cleaning up the next morning, what with all the cigarette stubs in the half-emptied bottles of beer, and the broken glass on the pavement by the apartment building's communal bike rack, and the blood on the pavement where my roommate cut his foot and just stood there for a while as it soaked into the cement. Ah. Parties.
Tremendous fun last night, indeed. Don't be fooled. It was a helluva shakedown here at the faux-Panaphobe Compound. I'm the only one left for the most part, so I guess the compound title follows me, right? Sure. We'll say 'yes' to that one.
The mysterious fifth Hero was there as well last night, after his long day of traveling home from Fort Bliss, Texas where he's learning how to take over the world through the satellite system of the US Army. Yeah. Whatev, bro. Just drink a beer for him and pretend like everything's just the same as it was last January. Man, has he changed ***1***.
Did I just use the dreaded footnote? Indeed. Lazy Saturdays will do that to you, won't they? Tonight will see me most likely not drinking as I'm on penicillin still and I would rather have this fuckass lump above my fucked wisdom tooth go away than run around like an idiot with no head for a second night in a row. On Thursday I get the stupid tooth taken out, so we can only hope that that will be the end of my problems. The mysterious fifth Hero asked if I'd like to go get new tattoos on Thursday after the dental operation, but I politely declined. I think getting a bone yanked out of my mouth is pain enough for one day. Maybe next week, kid. We'll keep in touch.
***1*** Of course this is meant to be a joke. Mr. Jesse is exactly the same as we last saw him, but his taste in photography seems to have changed. Something to do with butts, penises, and toothbrushes. Icky-icky-icky. Uh-oh!
"Party Patrol sucks, bro!"
Ah. Parties. I enjoy having people over. I enjoy cleaning up the next morning, what with all the cigarette stubs in the half-emptied bottles of beer, and the broken glass on the pavement by the apartment building's communal bike rack, and the blood on the pavement where my roommate cut his foot and just stood there for a while as it soaked into the cement. Ah. Parties.
Tremendous fun last night, indeed. Don't be fooled. It was a helluva shakedown here at the faux-Panaphobe Compound. I'm the only one left for the most part, so I guess the compound title follows me, right? Sure. We'll say 'yes' to that one.
The mysterious fifth Hero was there as well last night, after his long day of traveling home from Fort Bliss, Texas where he's learning how to take over the world through the satellite system of the US Army. Yeah. Whatev, bro. Just drink a beer for him and pretend like everything's just the same as it was last January. Man, has he changed ***1***.
Did I just use the dreaded footnote? Indeed. Lazy Saturdays will do that to you, won't they? Tonight will see me most likely not drinking as I'm on penicillin still and I would rather have this fuckass lump above my fucked wisdom tooth go away than run around like an idiot with no head for a second night in a row. On Thursday I get the stupid tooth taken out, so we can only hope that that will be the end of my problems. The mysterious fifth Hero asked if I'd like to go get new tattoos on Thursday after the dental operation, but I politely declined. I think getting a bone yanked out of my mouth is pain enough for one day. Maybe next week, kid. We'll keep in touch.
***1*** Of course this is meant to be a joke. Mr. Jesse is exactly the same as we last saw him, but his taste in photography seems to have changed. Something to do with butts, penises, and toothbrushes. Icky-icky-icky. Uh-oh!
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