20 + 8 = Motrin bee-yotch.

Cold. Desolate. Empty bottles, strange stains, papers blowing in the wind. In the distance...a cat. MEEEERRRREEEEEOOOOOW!!!! Calling for it's young? Perhaps a warning to those about to pass? Or maybe he's saying "Get off your ass and clean this goddam apartment. And put some pants on." Yeah. That's probably more accurate. Since that's the scene of my place right now.
Chris finally made the trek up to Seattle with PR. Pierre? I like it. SHHHHHH!!! Shhh. Chris arrived in Seattle around three of the clock. With a full bladder. Usually, that's my gig, but I'll share. I met him at about three firty at the Starbucks World Domination HQ downtown. We drove (man, I totally just deleted a buncha stuff. CRAP!!) down Alaskan Way. Beautiful day. We get to the end of Alaskan, only to be stopped by a train. For ten minutes. What's ten minutes? 600 seconds. 600 seconds to sit. And take in the view of the Puget Sound. The ebb and flow of it. The fullness of it. I mean, there's so much WATER out there. And it's just so FREE! The way water should be. Free. Oh. And Chris still has to pee.
Finally the torment of the choo-choo passes. We're back on our way. Get to the parking garage. Chris is dying. Dancing. Clenching. Clutching. Sobbing softly. The elevator doesn't come fast enough. I was cool though. I totally asked if he was okay. The tears told me he was. I think that means he's still breathing. Or something. Anyway, as soon as my front door opens, Chris drops everything in the hallway and bolts into the bathroom. Sweet, sweet emptiness ensues.
Then it's time for a little bit of Halo. Word. So Pierre and Jeff were together again. This time it was Pierre with the cool ass new sticker. Lil' Kim never looked better. We drove the machines up to Baja Fresh. Our baja's were anything BUT fresh.
Then it was time to go kill some time with True Pleasure aka Josh and the wifey Mara before supper time.
I can't believe I'm remembering all this stuff from Friday. I mean, it's freakin' Monday night!! Thanks vitamins!
Anyway, Chris being the generous (I'm serious) amigo he is, lets True Pleasure ride PR to Alki Beach. It was a nice ride. Most of it was spent looking in my rear view mirror wondering how heavy Josh REALLY is. Or maybe he's afraid of all that power. No. No, it's the fat. Nice ride though. Pretty night.
We arrive at Alki and park at Tully's. No problem on the scooters. Mara on the other hand needs to invest in a Mini Cooper, parallel parking lessons, or heroin. Maybe all three. But they finally parked that big ol' Civic up the street. We passed up on the uppity French restaurant and settled for the outside enjoyment of Bamboo. A pretty rad restaurant where professional football players and NASCAR fans can eat in harmony. As long as we're sitting between them. Being crushed by the football player. And his girl giving him the sage advice to be careful leaving the seat because "you're going to kill those white people." Luckily, he was careful. Thanks big guy!
It was nice to have some of my New Skoo friends interact with my Old Skoo friends. Like a weird experiment. Strangely, no clothes were shed. Anyway, thanks to everyone for coming out to that. Especially Ted. I'm never going to get that glitter off of my pants buddy!
We capped the evening off with some Halo. Shocking.
Saturday welcomed us (not frontin' anymo') with a sunny day. I think we wasted most of it inside though. Oh wait. No, we went to Peet's for some coffee. I was blinded most of the day by a migraine. Or was that from too much masturbating? I forget. But for the first time of 3 times, motrin saved the day. After getting a hold of True Pleasure and Mara, we decided to go play some pool and get some Metchican food at Mamas. Great place. The evening ended with Wine Coolers, Nerf Basketball, the acknowledgement of Hungry Hungry Hippos (sorry guys!), nekkid cat wrasslin' and most shockingly, Halo.
Ahhhh Sunday. Still holding a grudge from last week? Yes. Yes you are. You baited us in by living up to your name. Sunday. It was nice. We rode Jeff and PR with T shirts. On us. Not the scooters. Picked up my ID that had been forgotten the night before, got some Thai food and made an impromtu trip to Josh and Tiny Dancer's. We make our presence known by revving the engines in the front yard. The landlords are impressed. I assume. Josh and Mara invite us in. We thank them with a symphony of farts. Again. I think the landlords were impressed.
We decide to take a walk to the park. The one off MLK. Yes, MLK implies pretty much the same thing in every city. Good thing Mara had her colors on. REPRESENT!!
Our cracker asses stroll up to the court and proceed to shoot airball after brick, after airball.
Smelling blood in the air, some dudes ask us three to play some ball. "Nah, that's coo..." "SURE! Yeah, we'll play!". I hate you guys.
Good thing we all decided to wear jeans and skateboard shoes. Totally prepared. I wind up guarding some dude whoe said it was his "first time." If I had a nickel for every guy who's told me that! Chriiiisss...wink! Shhhh! Shhhhhhhhhhh.
We actually wound up handling these mofos pretty well. Huge lead. Game point. We freakin' lose. Wow. My hands were numb. I was light headed. I tasted my Thai food at LEAST two seperate times. I don't think the Stank ass Barney mother effer I was gaurding helped the situation. Jesus dude. I get two extremes. Chris sprays his Axe in the morning, then this dude who smells like an axe that's used to chop butt holes. Damn.
Anyway, tryin' to ball with these dudes who were NOT our age kicked our asses. As I lay here in bed on my heating pad, ingesting Motrin to help with the ache. It feels pretty rad. Oh wait. No. No it doesn't. Time for leftovers.