Commey la foe

So the original party that was supposed to happen at my house didnt. Instead, the lovely and fabulous Kathleen and a couple of her friends came over. I think this was probably for the best.

The fireworks were, indeed, highly cool. We had a view-o-rama from my balcony.

Then, Mark and I went for a ride in his wee British MG. It is very strange to be on the drivers side of a car and not be driving.

I have the next four days off of work. If my car didn't suck, I would, like, take a mini vacation or something. Except, you know, I don't know where to go.

I have noticed a distinct lack of funny jokes....

Scrambled eggs...oooh my baby how I love your legs...

Last night on our way to Mark's car, a drunk guy stumbled down the hallway from what looked like my landlord's apartment. He was way wasted and had his keys with him. We let him careen down the sidewalk ahead of us, and he dissapeared. I wondered where he went, and Mark said "well, let's just hope he lives close and didn't vanish into his car." A little further down the street the bushes next to us start moving around. Apparently, the drunk dude fell down into the shrubbery. Just a few more steps and he would have made it to the infinitely more comfortable grass, but I guess he decided the shrubbery looked good. I just hope that he stayed there.

There is so much "straight Kentucy bourbon" in my freezer.