Wow. Grueling hangover caused by rapid consumption of many beers. Ugh. Hurts to think. The clicking noise made by my keyboard is driving me insane. By the end of this entry, the little men in white coats will surely be standing by to escort me to the padded white room.

Let’s pause for station identification and to wish my brother a happy 25th birthday.

We’re back? Okay, let’s get back to the fun.

I was sitting around last night, with not very much to do so I called Matt and Chris to see what they were up to, and got their respective voice mails. Shit. So I decided to prepare a lovely dinner of hash browns and a cheese omelet, the potatoes which, by the way, are still sitting on my kitchen countertop.

The water to cook the potatoes to a nice al dente has boiled when I received a phone call from Chris to come over immediately. They were planning on drinking some beer (from the Holy Kegerator) and then heading to the Italian Festival.

The Italian Festival? Is it the second week in June already?

The Wilmington Italian Festival is simply incredible. Cheap food, and cheap alcohol, and a square block surrounding St. Anthony’s Cathedral teeming with people. So we went and I, already buzzed, ordered dinner in Italian (or a close approximation, thereof)

“Uno Porkette, e uno Spezzato, senza spinaci per favore,” I announced to the seventy-year-old woman behind the counter who clearly had no clue what I had said. So I repeated my order in English. Porkette, is a marinated pork sandwich with Spinach, which I did without, and Spezzato is a veal sandwich with a spicy tomato sauce. Yummy.

We stood around and listened to a geriatric cover band misrepresent tunes from the bandstand. I mean c’mon, crank up the old hearing aid, it’s clearly not “Sweet Caroline. Good times never seemed so good. I’m feelin’ fine. I believed I’d never would.” Are you with me people? It was horrendous.

So after a few more beers, Chris and I went off to find a friend of ours, whom we never did locate, and ended up going home around 10:30, after stopping off at Grotto’s for a slice of pizza to go. We sat around until midnight waiting for Matt to return home, while listening to a set of mix CDs Chris dubbed, “Mein Kampf” and “Mein Kampf: Reloaded.” It’s mostly ‘80s stuff like Prince, and Spandau Ballet, with some Wham and Van Morrison mixed in for good measure. He’s working on the third compilation to be dubbed “Mein Kampf: Revolutions.”

I bring this up because one of the only modernish songs on either CD was Cake’s “Short Skirt/Long Jacket” which contains my favorite simile of all time: With fingernails that shine like justice. Ah, the poetry of a stoner.

Later all. I’ve got shit to do.

Days out of work: 13

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