I neglected to update on Friday, again, sorry. I got busy messing around my house and then before I knew it, it was time to head to the Union to catch Reverend Slanky and dance the night away. So I didn’t update.
Friday was actually an extremely good time, for John and I at least. I don’t know what happened for others out that night, but for us the night was filled with – and I’m not lying here – a dance off.
Many people don’t know this about me, but I got moves. I’m not talking extremely good moves, but moves nonetheless. I can somewhat dance…okay, I suck but I let myself go when given a chance and have been known to at the very least provide some people with entertainment. Friday it was Alisia, and John and his friend Jamie.
The thing about John is that he’s a bit cocky, and so am I. Get us together and we could compete on just about any dumbass thing from who can sneak in the best Blues Brothers joke, to who’s got the better ass (me). Friday it was dancing. Coupled up he and I attempted a competition on a floor so cramped up our elbows kept hitting other dancer, but we were not detoured in the slightest (possibly annoying some people). If anything the cramped quarters made the competition better since it attracted attention in a cliché movie way, which I personally feel all dance-offs need.
John thinks he won because he picked Jamie up in some half-assed swing-style maneuver, but Alisia and I declared victory because we feel we looked better doing it. We’re both taller than John after all. (Holla.)
Outside of that I got to drink an Irish Carbomb, which always makes me a little happy. Plus, Alisia and I danced past* the competition time, which was weird. Usually girls I hang out with don’t dance, which means we go to a bar like the Union and…do nothing. We sit and bullshit over pitchers. Lame. But Friday I got to groove.
Saturday was possibly the laziest day I’ve ever had. I mostly watched movies all day and accomplished very little passed learning that Ratatouille is a pretty funny movie and that after all these years So I Married an Ax Murderer holds up (though admittedly the beat poetry scenes are awful, and so is the ending...I like it though. I don't know why). That was it. Wait, there was more: Jiffy Pop popcorn sucks. It sucks bad. How that stuff ever sells is beyond me. It tastes like a baseball covered in butter and dipped in old underwear. Just awful. I cannot recommend it to anyone.
As for today: not much to say. I’ve accomplished very little outside of a shower and having breakfast with friends over at Paul’s.
*Bite me Fihkman.
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3 comments:
It's "past", not passed.
you got schooled by a photog! but on my end, nice summation of friday. holla. word.
Wow. A dance off. I would love to see that again. Oh, by the way. I danced on Saturday... and the weekend before that. I have been known to dance. To good music. :) And in your old living room.
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