Sadly, Friday night was uneventful. We didn’t fall down, we didn’t get any fights with the shoe polish, we didn’t spill our drinks or shoot bloody mary out our noses, we didn’t blackout, we didn’t leave the door wide open.

The Silver Fox showed up at 6pm on the dot. We pounded ice cold Coors Lights until 9pm. We went out and hit up all our favorite bars: Team Players, U Bar, Crazy Horse, La Salles, The Bear, and Joe’s. We drank pitchers of beer, had shots of rum, and drank quite a few bloody marys.

After shutting down Joe’s we went back to my place to drink more and be loud. Kellie and her friends called, and begged us to come over. Apparently there were two boring guys there, and they weren’t being entertained. Finally they wore us down and we agreed to come over.

The picked us up and brought us back to Kellie’s place. We hung out ’til 5am, talking story and being drunk idiots. We had them in stitches. One of the other guys retreated to the spare bedroom. The other guy sat in the corner. The Silver Fox and I told our best stories and our best jokes.

We caught a ride back to my place and stayed up until 8am. That’s gotta be a new record for us. We usually pass out around 3am.

I woke up at 11am and couldn’t sleep any more. My head was pounding. The room was spinning, I was still drunk. I let The Silver Fox sleep until 1pm.

Then we went to Burger Hut, the best burger joint in the world. After brunch I started to feel pretty damn good. I sobered up, my headache was gone, my hangover had disappeared. I must have had 3 gallons of water to ward off the effects of the previous night’s boozing.

We hopped in my truck and drove up the hill until we hit the snow line. Then we got out, loaded up the Sigs, and went for a walk in the forest. After the Great Pinecone Massacre we hiked out of the canyon, pausing to watch the sun sink low on the horizon. It was so beautiful up there. Sooo quiet. The forest floor was covered in snow. We could see the river snake it’s way through the canyon below. It was wonderful. The fresh, cold, pine mountain air invigorated us.

After we got back to Chico we started to get a little tired. It was almost 6pm. We wanted to go out again, but… Two nights in a row is easy when you’re 20. At 30 it gets a little tougher. The Silver Fox decided to go home, but come up again next Saturday. That sounded perfect to me.

So now it’s Sunday. I’m still worn out, tired, sleepy, hungry. I had no juice last night. It’s a good thing The Silver Fox went home. I would have been a zombie.

NEXT Saturday night should be the blackout drunks’ night. Hopefully then I’ll have a good story to tell.

I get home at 4pm. Phone rings. It’s The Silver Fox.

“I’m walking out the door, dude. I can’t take it anymore. I’ll be there around 6pm.” He’s using that I’m-going-fucking-crazy voice.

I’m feeling it too. The last two weeks have been very stressful. The closer I get to graduation, the more paperwork I have to fill out and the more hoops I have to jump through. I need to let loose.

This weekend isn’t going to be a calm, kick-back, sip a few beers and tell stories weekend. This weekend is going to be a sloppy ass drunk, blackout, wake up with the door wide open weekend. It’s gonna get bad.

I hang up the phone and immediately, without even thinking about what I’m doing, grab the icechest and start walking towards the door. I’m on autopilot as I walk down the stairs, get in my truck, and go to the gas station. I’m thinking about all the stuff I have due on Monday and how I just don’t give a flying fuck.

I walk in and grab a 30-pack of Coors Light. King size bag of ice under one arm, beer under the other, I walk up to the counter to pay.

“Hey Tom, is your friend coming up tonight?”

I can’t help but laugh. These cats know me too well. Hell, I’ve been going in there for almost two years now. I bet they go bankrupt when I move away.

I walk outside to my truck and oh-so-delicately arrange the beers in the icechest. Layer of ice on the bottom, perfectly spaced out cans so they can breathe, another layer of ice, repeat. I’m a god damn perfectionist. These beers are going to be so fucking cold by the time The Silver Fox gets here. I drive around the corner and park.

So now I’m home, I’ve got an ice cold ice chest full of ice cold beer and ice. I’m mad-dogging the bottle of rum on the counter. I’m fucking ready. The Silver Fox should be here within the hour.

Pray for us. Hope we don’t do anything TOO stupid…

See ya Monday.

My Internet radio station has returned!
http://skillet.stupidcar.com:8000/listen.pls

All this time I thought it was streaming too… I know what happened though. I made some changes, which bombed. I never checked to make sure they worked, and there you go. Or maybe it got bjorked when the power went out and my server rebooted? Yeah, that’s it!

Anyway, you should probably have Winamp to listen in.