Tuesday, April 18, 2006


This weekend, the stupendous W. Leavitt was in town, which was way more fun than when he's not in town. We watched Bjork and her beau drown in vaseline and cut off each other's legs, we tried birch beer, to which I gave a thumbs down and he gave a thumbs up, and we attended the aforementioned mass at Old St. Pat's. We also happend by a bar where they were playing the Fannypack song Seven One Eight, which I love! I danced on the sidewalk until a fellow came out and said if I could sing all the words with him, I'd be his new best friend. As it turns out, I only know about 40% of the words, but he was gracious enough and said I could come back and try again. Which I plan on doing. Here's us dancing:

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