In fact I did survive this weekend. I will present thoughts, opinions, observations, and signs of the apocalypse dervied therefrom (huh?) in an upcoming entry.
But, the short version is:
Friday:
•Very nice dinner and coffee with a timeless friend.
•Writing drill
•Writing drill while I had company
•Writing drill while I had company, most of which were drinking the alcohol
•Funkle Show, at which the mayor was in attendance (although I think she was there to see the band before us). It got nasty, and we had to separate her and Gunner*.
•Last minute encore with the boys next door, aka Modern Skirts. There's nothing like playing an tune you haven't played in a year with a show buzz. Russ recounts this nicely here.
Saturday
•Writing Drill
•Journey from Athens to Wrens (two of a very few plural town names in Georgia)
•The Wedding of the Year
•The Wedding Party of the Epoch
•The Hotel Sleeping Situation of the Dreams of Survivor Creator Mark Burnett
•The ride back
•Rape... my apartment, Ln had her way with it, and the scars are most definitely permanent. Pics coming soon.
I'm sure glad the weekend's over. Now I can relax.
Notes:
* - This is not true.
3 comments:
That's true. All we needed was a fire and bugs to eat and we'd have been rich by now.
Especially after all those tumbles off the side of the bed. I remembered that last night when I laid down. No wonder my back was killing me Sunday.
im sorry i missed you guys & the skirts. i still haven't seen the skirts with the funkle horns.
I don't know what's wrong with ya'll, I was quite comfortable ;)
Kit - you falling off the bed was seriously hysterical!
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