Somehow in the middle of the last few days of moving preparations, the bf and I threw a going-away rooftop barbecue kegger. It went rather smashingly; strangers became friends, old friends reunited one last time for now, and hilarious wastedness occurred. A lot of friends seemed really sad to see us go...it must be that they've absorbed the concept of me moving better than I have.
After about 8 hours of kegging, and like 50 trips up and down 5 flights to let people in, I'm rather dum and useless today so I'll keep this short.
Meet Dana. This standout BBQ atendee is bffs with Calisha Jenkins of that crazy band I keep trying to tell you about, Drunky Brewster. Here's Dana showing off her "BBQ grill," which is a grill she made out of barbecued sausage.
Later, she peed on the roof. Mind you, my apartment, which has a lavatory, was about 10 steps below where this took place. However, this choice kicked the party up a notch.
I have not hung out with Dana too much, but it's cool that she was so comfortable with me that she would spend like 5% of the total time we've ever been around each other urinating in my presence.
Lots of other fun was had, but none of the other photos were flattering so I shan't talk about it.
And this morning, a major breakthrough was made in inter-apartment cat-dog relations. After months of trauma because she's so scared of her somewhat-newish dog apartment-mate, Gypsy is finally starting to emerge from her self-imposed exile. Little does she know her entire small world is about to get tsunami'd* beginning in the wee hours of Wednesday morning when we move. This is the closest she's ever dared to get to the dog.
Note the red-wine stains on Coop's fur. Or maybe those are burns from Gyp's hate beams.
*(I took the high road and did not make the obvious Louisiana natural disaster joke)