Friday, September 09, 2005

what the weekend is shaping up to look like...

<--here is a good pic from Bday Blitz 2005. Don't worry, the camera doesn't have red-eye, we do. A few too many smokers decided to convene at Trader Todd's the evening of our party. That night, in a word, Maura and Katie were...wow!

...in regards to the title, in short, I'm going to have a houseparty at my brother's psuedo-bachelor pad. He and his roommate Dave won't be there, but Dave's neurotic Weimareiner, Shade, will be. I'm there under the guise of "dog-sitting" but they told me I could have people over, so gosh darnit, I will!

Their address is 1847 W. Ohio, right off of Damen and kind of a trek from cool central, Damen & Division. But I think everyone should come. Some reasons:

1. rooftop--almost as cool as Jesslyn and Maura's since theirs is bigger, but just as cool bc the neighbors don't care if you sit on their shared furniture. Also working in the roof's favor is an uh-mazing view of the city. Prime spot for makeouts and dance parties.

2. hard-wood floors--great for dance parties.

3. fridge stocked by girlfriends, but manned by Dave the Grillmaster--this means lots of late-night hot dogs. On whole wheat buns.

4. it's a new residence we can rough up, instead of the old tried and true apartments around Wicker Park/Bucktown/Ukranian Village/the burbs/whereevs.

Tonight, is Kristin's t-shirt show at her boyfriend Ross' apartment (1932 S. Halsted; see earlier post for exclusive deets) so I'm already prepared to drink lots of Pabst, or another similar cheap beer.

In other news, someone has now stolen the Napoleon Dynamite soundtrack from me TWICE. That's right, not once but TWICE. Fool me once, jerkstores, shame on you. But fool me twice? Shame on me, I'm dumb and don't keep very good track of my cds. I long for When in Rome and Jamiroquai. And Figurine. God, I want to die--I'm missing it so much right now. I hope that asshole is out in blogworld and somehow sees this, and feels horrible for ruining my life. A little.

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