Well, "back after watching Lost in Translation" secretly means "I'm just not going to post for a week, oooh I am ever so sly."
Had one hell of a kegger. I am not organizing one of these again for a very long time. I can't say that I didn't have fun, but it's a lot of stress. I'm just going to list the main points from the weekend, the stand out ones, if you will.
- Heaving Kev into the attic to see what was up there, only to find a muffler, two car grills, two Chevrolet hubcaps, a ton of stuffed animals (including a Troll), a drivers' license from the 70's, and a photo album chronicling the entire life of some man who is now probably golfing in Florida. Probably owns a condo.
-Coating the Troll in Citrolite to sacrifice it to the party gods. The neighbour to our south must have believed that we were crazy. Wasn't a huge help when Zeynep's boyfriend Paul told her that the flaming Troll was an unwanted pet, and she got the most horrified face on. She wasn't too pleased. Went inside. Probably a good thing too, because it stank like citrus plastic.
-The Po-Po inevitably showed up, but Alex handled it really well. Turns out there're fire and noise by-laws. But we weren't there to cause a ruckus with the cops, so we complied, snuffed the fire and moved inside.
-After the two kegs were pretty well gone and most people had left or passed out, I figured it was time for bed too. For the record, I feel sorry for Sarah's boyfriend, because even though she was "secure" in her own sleeping bag, she's a violent sleeper. Sharing a futon was a fine idea at the start, but my half of the bed sloped toward the middle, and her half didn't. I have a habit of rolling in my sleep, and she had the side of the bed that I'm used to, so I was uncomfortable. So, naturally I'd roll, asleep, and bump into her. Normal people would've woken me up and said "move over." Not so in Sarah's case. No, I get a goddamn decking. I didn't even bump into anything bearing the vaguest semblance of being "naughty." Nope. Got myself a good cuff in the jaw though. So, I figure, "what the hell, she's allowed if she's uncomfortable." So I roll the other way. Unused to the right side of the bed, don't I fucking fall off? THREE TIMES. And then, when I get up in the morning, does she remember nailing me in the jaw? No. Does she remember me bumping into her? Yes. Am I at fault for unconsciously rolling as I do in my sleep? Apparently so. I just hope I grabbed some ass anyhow, making the jaw-punch almost worth it. Almost.
I stopped in Burlington on the way home from St. Catharines to see what the good word was over at Conspiracy Comics, and I ended up picking up Comic Party Vol. 1 (DVD). Seems pretty nice, and if it's anything like the manga, it'll be darn good. Sarah got a copy of Fruits Basket Vol. 3 (DVD) . Contains no fruit, nor does it come in a basket. Funny show, I dig it. Still have yet to watch it in english.
I just may post more tonight. I think I have more to say.
Current mood: hoping that I got a handful