lose loose we ght



It was Ladies Night. Unfortunately, my lady friends and I aren’t particularly girly, so we were somewhat at a loss as to what to do with ourselves. Our travels took us to the Honey Hole (perfect name for a girl’s night kick-off bar), Barca (where we were waited on by a bitchy waitress), R Place (where we attempted to find some fun 80’s music to dance to, but were met only with obscure hip-hop) and finally, the Kincora, (where we realized we were far too drunk to be awake for much longer). It’s a shame too, because the DJ was spinning some very good music. Must remember to go back to the Kincora when less drunk and tired.

Faye also took some pretty cool high-concept pictures involving me and Elyse vomiting rope lights.


I went to look at a bike that was advertised on Craig’s List. I need something to get me to and from yoga in a timely fashion. The price was right on this one. Also, it was apparently designed for shorties such as myself. Barring any major issues with the thing, I knew I was going to buy it. The other person who knew I was going to buy it was the hard-assed British lady who was selling it. Consequently, she didn’t budge one inch on the price. Furthermore, she made me give her all my cash AND all of Brugos’ cash, only allowing me to write her a check for the remainder. Damn, lady.

Brugos kindly drove me home with my new bike, and then went with me to purchase a helmet and lock. Another seasoned salesman sold me my helmet, which is pink and futuristic looking. I went with pink because there is NO WAY I’m going to look even remotely cool on a bike anyway, so I might as well spice up my life with some color.

He also sold me a wire combination lock. Elyse had previously warned me against buying a wire lock, but the sales dude, being the pro that he is, asked me a few questions about the bike and where I would be riding it, and determined that there was no way a thief was going to go after my Dodge Darty piece of crap, when they could have the Rolls Royce of bikes that is sitting right next to it. Being one who avoids confrontation at all costs and hates shopping anyway, I took his advice and bought whatever he shoved into my naïve little hands.

Brugos and I then met Faye, Borg, Dom and Ben at the Metro for a showing of “Slither”. I was a little disappointed that I didn’t run into my nemesis, Fan Boy. I hope he didn’t get sacked. He’ll never move out of his mom’s basement that way.

“Slither” was aight. Not awesome. Not terrible. Nathan Fillion helped.

After a quick stop at the Comic’s Dungeon, the gang left me and Brugos to tool around until the party at the House of Fun. Much DDR happened at the aptly named House. DDR skills, it turns out, are not improved by bong hits.


Despite allowing themselves a 3-hour time window, the IKEA people delivered my new “bed” right at 11:15. Faye and I had planned to watch “The Island” while we waited for my delivery, so we carried on with the plan anyway. We regretted that we weren’t watching the movie during a plausible drinking time, since an “Island” drinking game soon revealed itself. If anybody out there hasn’t yet seen the movie (since I can’t imagine anyone wanting to watch it AGAIN), remember these rules:

-Drink every time ScarJo or EwMc ask a “What’s (something very common in normal human society)?” question.
-Drink every time anyone says the following: “Go!”, “Run!” “Look out!”

That should get you well on the way to Drunky Town.

After the movie, Faye helped me reorganize the apartment. Realising how much utter CRAP I have sent me down a deep shame spiral. It didn’t help matters that most of it was covered in a two-years thick layer of dust. I am gross.

Later, Faye made me dinner and we fast forwarded through “The Boogyman”. Unlike AvP, watching it in French didn’t help. It’s just a REALLY BORING movie. If you ask me, it takes a lot of misused talent to make a movie about people dying BORING.

I now live in a bedroom that, as Faye commented, resembles the studio apartment of a conspiracy theorist. My frameless mattress sits on a floor in the corner, like a little rats nest. I didn’t realize how many bookshelves I had until they all came out of the closets and lined the walls of my bedroom. If there are any mediaphiles out there who have advice on how to organize your books and CD’s in a way that doesn’t look manic, please share.


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