What happens when you combine late hours, lots of dance, and too many lasers? Cynthia and I chatting until 5:41 (in the morning) might be one result. Though only one of us was drunk (and since I was working it sadly wasn't me) the conversation was seriously epic. Multiple layers of epicosity. You know why it was epic? Guess what...it doesn't matter. What does matter is that we had it. And then, at 8:32 a.m. cutey patootie little E strolled in and roused our sleeping asses. Thank god we both got to go back to sleep...sorry E.
Point being. Last night was all kinds of funny. 7th Street & 1st Ave packed to the rafters. I think the Moon Goons ate my brains. Or those lasers did? Anyway, I'm digressing (which is somewhat impossible since there wasn't really a story anyway). 8 people in a tiny six speed is a story. So is being locked out and sitting in your car listening to Bonafied Lovin and taking pictures of yourself. So it Sarah dancing on Jeff like it was 1999, maybe it was 1999? A great story...asking Max if the girl he was dancing with (who was totally X'd) was his girlfriend, and Max going, "No, oh god no" and shaking his head emphatically. These are all stories, and I'd definitely like to tell them. Just not today. If I had taken pictures you would be looking at them now, but I don't think I did.
Today...I'm going to get off the internet, get off drugs, and go outside. (I'm kidding Mom, I'm not on drugs). But I am going to go outside. I hope you do too. There will be pictures to look at later.