The Inevitable Happens...

We are now squarely in the aftermath of Hurricane Staffbro. Fortunately, no one was hurt. Staffbro and Friend of Staffbro left Cashville in a haze of Japanese engineered tail-lights. We went to a bar. I remained sober. Others did not. Apparently I am bad at maintaining personal relationships despite my best efforts.

Despite my appalling lack of any ability to keep the people I love around, some hilarity did ensue and is worth noting:

1. The only way we could get into one bar was by convincing the manager that Friend of Staffbro had been accosted by citizens of Mexico on St. Patrick's Day, relieving him of any form of identification. What makes this great is that Friend of Staffbro is at least 23, and the circumstantial evidence that we have suggests that he was in fact accosted by citizens of Mexico and thrown into the woods on St. Patrick's Day.

2. The Roommate gave me a cd that someone had left at his job over a year ago. It featured a local “gangsta” rap group called the "Cycos," which, after considerable effort, I was able to determine is pronounced "Psychos." They are surprisingly good and we did rock out to them pretty hard. How could we not? I mean, according to at least one of their songs, they do run this bitch.

3. Staffbro and Friend of Staffbro convinced me to go to Wal-Mart in search of new underwear. Not because my underwear is bad, but because they believe that they have stumbled upon what they describe as "the perfect underwear." It's made of lycra and, according to reports, does not ride up, feels as though you're not wearing underwear at all, and yet still manages to provide support. I'll probably head to the nearest Wal-Mart today in search of what must be the Holy Grail of under garments.