let me break it down for you:
it was nate’s birthday. nate gets what everyone gets: a lifetime!! and a bottle of big fucking huge gun whiskey. have i told you about big fucking huge gun whiskey? you will hear more. i should have capitalized Big Fucking Huge Gun Whiskey above.
A place called Rose City Lighting and Sound was moving, and selling a lot of their old gear. The last thing I need is more crap laying around, so I rushed there. You don’t see a deal like this every day:
Did I buy that box? You bet your ass I did.
Here are some deals I passed on:
Done shopping. Time for red beer and chest hair.
Gold spray paint sticks to leather shoes surprisingly well. I took this picture in a backyard well after I should have gone to bed:
At a bbq the next day, someone else tried to capture the same magic with their camera. I didn’t see their result, but my guess is that the best photo taken of my shoes this weekend is the one above.
I found that I liked saying “holla” last week. Within days I was saying it way too much. This weekend I weaned myself from the word. It took discipline and reminders. I faded it out of use over the whole of Saturday because I’ve heard that going cold-turkey on things can trigger pendulum-style relapses.
I spent some time in St. Johns:
It is home of an eerie telephone booth:
It is home of the Your Inn. Have you ever heard a better name for a bar? I was excited on the way there and enjoyed saying the place’s name a lot, but the actual bar sucks. I’d like to recommend it as a place to hang out. Instead I recommend it as a place to go one time.