at school, i'm a student. not a good student, but a student none-the-less.

right after school, i'm a runner. not a good runner, but a runner none-the-less.

after xc practice, a bunch of us go to the girls' soccer game at renton stadium. ryan brown takes me over to his house, and we chill there for a while as i wait for anthony to get to his brother's place, because his brother is out of town, and tonight we're getting biz-zay. sausage. fest.

i decline to smoke a joint, hit the bong, or anything to do with marijuana, except to admire the plants that are growing in the kitchen. it is a sight to bestow, and laugh at. roger, anthony, tyree, and brian all get that sticky greenery up in their lungs, and then rj, ant, tyree head on over to tower records in bellevue, leaving me and brian alone.

of course, brian and i have our own plans. four or five shots of jack daniels, and massive guitaring sessions in between all of it. e minor like a motherfucker. brian writes all sorts of shit over his body, which we know will turn out to look really gay in sobriety, like "on 10/4/02 we realized we are guitar gods," and decidingly calling our band "jack daniels and two guitars." everytime after we rock out, it seems like we're on a fucking guitar-high. brian is really high, but that is beside the point. playing guitar after shots of jack daniels, chased by vanilla coke, FUCKING RULES. jam, jam jam.

JD + G x 2

the other guys get back. then out of nowhere, mitchell gangwish appears, and then things get really weird. it doesn't seem like reality anymore, and everyone is getting fucked up at this point. glug, glug, glug.

and derek appears out of nowhere, too.

we all do the c-walk, because we live on the WESTSIDE.

and then tyree pukes. it's a good thing some of us are sobering up. we vaccum and wipe the stuff off the floor and couch, and then my mom calls the place, and leaves a message on the machine. it is unexpected, but i believe i handled the situation well, by calling her back.

if i'm hung over tomorrow, i'm not running at chehalis.

this blog doesn't accurately convey the crazy night, which is a bummer, because i wish you were all here to experience these crazy niggas get down. i haven't drank with friends, and enjoyed it like this, for a long time. fucking light-weights, like me, just go happy.

tomorrow, at anthony's brother's house, with more friends and coolness, will be fucking crazy.