I guess I could quote James Murphy on this one and say, "Well I don't know, I don't know, Oh where to begin?"
I guess it started at the end of one helluva long week at work. But Friday night J, Ash, Jodes and I fought off exhaustion and made the long trek up to La Habra to meet Jess for dinner.
**A note about La Habra. Actually, maybe an open letter to the city of La Habra:
Dear La Hab,
WTF, man? Why are you so far from any freeway system? Like do you get your kicks from cramming your gridlike surface streets with all the cars going to and fro, desperately searching for a freeway--any freeway--only to be sorely disgruntled when they discover that, no, you're going to have to drive another 20 minutes on Beach Blvd. before you reach your hallowed interstate? Is this a joke to you, La Habra? A little something to tickle your funny bone during 5 p.m. rush hour?
Well we are NOT AMUSED, La Habra, and might I also add that you're NOT AS SPECIAL AS YOU THINK YOU ARE.
In a huff,
Ok. Better now. So J, Ash, Jodes and I fought off exhaustion and made the long trek up to
La Habra The Place Of Which We Do Not Speak to meet Jess for dinner, and following that we went to Erik's graduation/goodbye party.
The usual hijinks followed (Mike says something inappropriate, Erik also says something inappropriate, I eat too much candy, J tells some good stories, and Tyler wears crew socks with shorts. You know, the usual). But what happened after that, I'm afraid to say, defies explanation.
Erik (per his usual antics) saddled up to me and said something completely improper for an 18-year-old Czech foreigner to EVER say to a lady such as myself, and I responded by whipping around and taking his picture.
What a picture it was.
When I reviewed my handiwork I was met with something so horrifying, so abjectly terrifying, so grotesque and bizarre and paralyzing that the only thing I can do now is post the picture and beg that you at least clean up after yourself when all of your innards spontaneously explode after looking upon this countenance:
I KNOW, RIGHT? What in the what?
Anyway, after tossing and turning and trembling and making a few deals with God about the monsters under my bed having free reign of the place if only I could get that ONE image out of my head long enough to sleep, I slept for just a few short hours before I dragged my tired arse and Jody's equally tired arse to a studio in Orange at 7:30 a.m. My friend Dan's band, The New Limb, was recording a music video for one of the tracks on their newly released album. He asked if I could style the video, and I happily obliged, dragging Jody along with me.
Fun times followed:
Saturday afternoon, Jess, Tyler, Mike and I went to what is quickly becoming my favorite restaurant for some burgers and beer.
Afterward, we lounged around and prepped the house for Beatnik X. And OH, what a Beatnik it WAS. We held it out on our front lawn on a half dozen blankets, with candles and hookah and cloves and sangria and cucumber-pineapple salad. It was truly one for the books. Here are a few pictures, including, I'm afraid to say it, one of the most incredible performances I've ever seen in my entire 25 years of life. The reason I say, "I'm afraid to say," is because if you missed it, you have missed out on something so spectacular, so side-splittingly hysterical, so jaw-throbbing, eyes-tearing-up, stomach-aching and guffaw-inducingly funny that you may as well shuffle off now to the sad Charlie Brown Christmas tune to live the rest of your life in mediocrity because, my friend, it's just not as good. I'm sorry to tell you.
The spread. Sangria, fruits, veggies, beer, homemade pita chips, cucumber-pineapple salad.
The Galloways, fresh off the plane from their honeymoon