So, I got the Florida pictures back. Time to elaborate on my trip. Warning: long and not dialup friendly.
So, Munchx0r and I went to Orlando last week to visit our dearly departed friends, who I usually refer to as The Bitches.
From left to right, that's Munchkin, Laura, Megan Murphy, Robyn, Becky "Fuckin'" Noe, Elhaam, and Megan Hill. Megan and Megan and Becky (try to say that three times fast!) are the ones who moved to Orlando. Their other roommate is this crazy British dude named Jaime, but I have yet to get any pictures of him back. Elhaam and Robyn were also visiting, and Laura is a friend of ours who is currently interning at Disney World. She drives the tour truck around the Animal Kingdom and wears a safari hat.
Anyway, so Munchx0r and I arrive Tuesday night after a long and grueling drive down I-75 (where we passed such awesome landmarks as the Drag Racing Hall of Fame) and about one million toll booths in Florida. I'm not used to that whole toll thing; we have but a single toll road in Georgia, and it's only 50 cents.
The house the girls are renting is fucking awesome. It has four bedrooms , a huge screen porch, and a pool about 30 feet in diameter. In other words, it's a great party house. So, we immediately began the task of getting absolutely retardedly drunk. It was at this point where we had to make the "no thinking about the whole distance thing until Saturday" rule, because everyone was already starting to get all lame. Laura showed up soon after and we proceeded to rock the fuck out. The highlight of the night was Jaime's bird, Pink Floyd. I forget what kind of bird Pink is, but he can talk and he loves attention. The funny thing is, since he is jaime's bird, he talks with a British accent. He was constantly screaming ""shuh uhp!" for instance. he also likes to pull the caps off of beer bottles and start drinking the beer. Crazy bird.
We woke up the next morning and Munchkin, Elhaam, Laura and I went to Clearwater for the night to rock on the beach. On the way we stopped at Laura's apartment at Disney. It's in this huge gated area where you have to sign in and have your ID photocopied when visiting. Oh, and visitors have to leave by 1:00am. It's like a fucking dorm, or a prison. Anyway, we met her fat roommates (one of which had this obnoxious Wiscaaaansin accent) and then took the fuck off. As soon as w got into Clearwater we discovered the recurring theme of the trip: rain. laura has a black cloud over her head at all times. I mean literally; everywhere she goes it rains. We checked into a shady hotel and hit the beach.
Now, Laura and Elhaam had left their pot back at Laura's apartment, so they wanted to try and get some in Clearwater. On the beach we passed these kids who were skating and wearing black and long sleeves. In August. So, I said, "hey, I used to be those kids, and when I was one of those kids, I always had pot. Go ask them." So the girls went and asked the kids. Unfortunately, the kids were drug free. Even more unfortunately, they ran into a guy who said he could get them an eighth. This guy turned out to be buckets of trouble.
Red flag one: "Hey, you're from Atlanta, right? But aren't there alot of black people there?" Yes, and one of them is my roommate, douchebag.
Red flag two: "I'm not dicking you guys around. I'm trying to get something off this Haitian, too. I'm trying to get him to sell me some heroin."
Now, it wasn't really that bad; he was not frightening in the least, and he wasn't a junky. He was just a complete loser who had no idea whatsoever about how the illegal drug trade works. This became obvious when his "dealer" ended up being complete bullshit. He obviously wasn't a real dealer, because real dealers (pot dealers, I mean) are businessmen. This was the kind of guy who is going to end up dead from trying to move some blow and fucking up the deal. Then I got stuck outside with the stupid guy while the girls changed. To make things even more lame, this "huge friggin' guy" showed up and began talking to us. He apparently used to play for Florida, until he got kicked off the team for drug use. So here I am, stuck with this douchebag and this ridiculous ex-football player who just screamed cop. It was lame. Luckily, we ditched them quickly.
Anyway, we ended up just hitting the beach and hanging out. Laura and I caught up, which was cool. I fell off a lifeguard tower, which wasn't so cool.
In the morning we headed back to Orlando, then jumped back int he car and went to Daytona with the restof the crew. Daytona was nice; I saw stingratys jumping out of the water. But then, as usual, the rain showed up and we had to retreat to a pizza place. Oh, and at some point they quit letting you drink openly on the beach in Daytona, which is fucking lame.
After that we went up to Flagler to meet up with this dude Luke who the bitches and I know from our spring break trip senior year of high school. Luke took us to the resort he works at, where we got to go nuts on the water slide and the lazy river. It was awesome.
I drove back to Orlando and we watched Hellboy and passed out. The next morning we woke up and discovered that Becky's entire clan was headed over to see the house. Luckily, that didn't stop us from laying by the pool and drinkng.
That night we threw a party, where all these awesome pictures were taken.
That's Megan Murphy and myself rocking the fuck out. Hard.
Laura and I showing that great minds think alike. And drunken ones, too.
Die, fuckers!
Look at me accessorize!
Anyway, we stayed up until sunrise, or, as we say in the ATL, the party didn't stop til 8 in the mornin'. A bunch of kids played drunken strip fooseball, and Laura lost, and it was pretty awesome. we also did our share of drunken fighting in the pool, as usual.
This is Morgan, myself, Megan Murphy, and Brandon the next morning. Notice the awesome pajama pants I'm wearing. Thanks, Megan. Oh, and in the most hilarious act of the night, Brandon somehow managed to break out Megan Murphy's window. With his ass. It was great.
I sat around all day waiting for a storm to clear and then went began the drive home. Leaving sucked. I'm going to miss those chicks more than anything. I'll just leave it at that.
So...that was my trip to Florida, albeit a bit condensed.
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And in newer, erm, news, yesterday was probably the worst day I've had in a long, long time. For starters, I was already in a bad mood because I'm not gonna see the above people very often anymore. Then I get a call from work. Turns out my boss volunteered our store to fill in for a store that was shorthanded. Translation: I had to go into work on my day off. Then, when I was about a half a mile from the store, some bitch decided it was a wonderful idea to change lanes. Right into the side of my car.
After work I came home and planned to exhibit one of the sure fire signs of alcoholism and drink my problems away with a few friends. The drinking, hoever, only lead to, gues what? more problems! I ended up getting into a big fight with my ex-girlfriend (which I don't particularly care about) and one of my best friends (which I definitely do care about). I don't feel like getting into it all; it's all completely retarded anyway. But yeah, things suck and stuff. Vent vent vent.
So, Munchx0r and I went to Orlando last week to visit our dearly departed friends, who I usually refer to as The Bitches.
From left to right, that's Munchkin, Laura, Megan Murphy, Robyn, Becky "Fuckin'" Noe, Elhaam, and Megan Hill. Megan and Megan and Becky (try to say that three times fast!) are the ones who moved to Orlando. Their other roommate is this crazy British dude named Jaime, but I have yet to get any pictures of him back. Elhaam and Robyn were also visiting, and Laura is a friend of ours who is currently interning at Disney World. She drives the tour truck around the Animal Kingdom and wears a safari hat.
Anyway, so Munchx0r and I arrive Tuesday night after a long and grueling drive down I-75 (where we passed such awesome landmarks as the Drag Racing Hall of Fame) and about one million toll booths in Florida. I'm not used to that whole toll thing; we have but a single toll road in Georgia, and it's only 50 cents.
The house the girls are renting is fucking awesome. It has four bedrooms , a huge screen porch, and a pool about 30 feet in diameter. In other words, it's a great party house. So, we immediately began the task of getting absolutely retardedly drunk. It was at this point where we had to make the "no thinking about the whole distance thing until Saturday" rule, because everyone was already starting to get all lame. Laura showed up soon after and we proceeded to rock the fuck out. The highlight of the night was Jaime's bird, Pink Floyd. I forget what kind of bird Pink is, but he can talk and he loves attention. The funny thing is, since he is jaime's bird, he talks with a British accent. He was constantly screaming ""shuh uhp!" for instance. he also likes to pull the caps off of beer bottles and start drinking the beer. Crazy bird.
We woke up the next morning and Munchkin, Elhaam, Laura and I went to Clearwater for the night to rock on the beach. On the way we stopped at Laura's apartment at Disney. It's in this huge gated area where you have to sign in and have your ID photocopied when visiting. Oh, and visitors have to leave by 1:00am. It's like a fucking dorm, or a prison. Anyway, we met her fat roommates (one of which had this obnoxious Wiscaaaansin accent) and then took the fuck off. As soon as w got into Clearwater we discovered the recurring theme of the trip: rain. laura has a black cloud over her head at all times. I mean literally; everywhere she goes it rains. We checked into a shady hotel and hit the beach.
Now, Laura and Elhaam had left their pot back at Laura's apartment, so they wanted to try and get some in Clearwater. On the beach we passed these kids who were skating and wearing black and long sleeves. In August. So, I said, "hey, I used to be those kids, and when I was one of those kids, I always had pot. Go ask them." So the girls went and asked the kids. Unfortunately, the kids were drug free. Even more unfortunately, they ran into a guy who said he could get them an eighth. This guy turned out to be buckets of trouble.
Red flag one: "Hey, you're from Atlanta, right? But aren't there alot of black people there?" Yes, and one of them is my roommate, douchebag.
Red flag two: "I'm not dicking you guys around. I'm trying to get something off this Haitian, too. I'm trying to get him to sell me some heroin."
Now, it wasn't really that bad; he was not frightening in the least, and he wasn't a junky. He was just a complete loser who had no idea whatsoever about how the illegal drug trade works. This became obvious when his "dealer" ended up being complete bullshit. He obviously wasn't a real dealer, because real dealers (pot dealers, I mean) are businessmen. This was the kind of guy who is going to end up dead from trying to move some blow and fucking up the deal. Then I got stuck outside with the stupid guy while the girls changed. To make things even more lame, this "huge friggin' guy" showed up and began talking to us. He apparently used to play for Florida, until he got kicked off the team for drug use. So here I am, stuck with this douchebag and this ridiculous ex-football player who just screamed cop. It was lame. Luckily, we ditched them quickly.
Anyway, we ended up just hitting the beach and hanging out. Laura and I caught up, which was cool. I fell off a lifeguard tower, which wasn't so cool.
In the morning we headed back to Orlando, then jumped back int he car and went to Daytona with the restof the crew. Daytona was nice; I saw stingratys jumping out of the water. But then, as usual, the rain showed up and we had to retreat to a pizza place. Oh, and at some point they quit letting you drink openly on the beach in Daytona, which is fucking lame.
After that we went up to Flagler to meet up with this dude Luke who the bitches and I know from our spring break trip senior year of high school. Luke took us to the resort he works at, where we got to go nuts on the water slide and the lazy river. It was awesome.
I drove back to Orlando and we watched Hellboy and passed out. The next morning we woke up and discovered that Becky's entire clan was headed over to see the house. Luckily, that didn't stop us from laying by the pool and drinkng.
That night we threw a party, where all these awesome pictures were taken.
That's Megan Murphy and myself rocking the fuck out. Hard.
Laura and I showing that great minds think alike. And drunken ones, too.
Die, fuckers!
Look at me accessorize!
Anyway, we stayed up until sunrise, or, as we say in the ATL, the party didn't stop til 8 in the mornin'. A bunch of kids played drunken strip fooseball, and Laura lost, and it was pretty awesome. we also did our share of drunken fighting in the pool, as usual.
This is Morgan, myself, Megan Murphy, and Brandon the next morning. Notice the awesome pajama pants I'm wearing. Thanks, Megan. Oh, and in the most hilarious act of the night, Brandon somehow managed to break out Megan Murphy's window. With his ass. It was great.
I sat around all day waiting for a storm to clear and then went began the drive home. Leaving sucked. I'm going to miss those chicks more than anything. I'll just leave it at that.
So...that was my trip to Florida, albeit a bit condensed.
--------------------------------------------------------------
And in newer, erm, news, yesterday was probably the worst day I've had in a long, long time. For starters, I was already in a bad mood because I'm not gonna see the above people very often anymore. Then I get a call from work. Turns out my boss volunteered our store to fill in for a store that was shorthanded. Translation: I had to go into work on my day off. Then, when I was about a half a mile from the store, some bitch decided it was a wonderful idea to change lanes. Right into the side of my car.
After work I came home and planned to exhibit one of the sure fire signs of alcoholism and drink my problems away with a few friends. The drinking, hoever, only lead to, gues what? more problems! I ended up getting into a big fight with my ex-girlfriend (which I don't particularly care about) and one of my best friends (which I definitely do care about). I don't feel like getting into it all; it's all completely retarded anyway. But yeah, things suck and stuff. Vent vent vent.
-I'd sneak into that place before I let them photo-copy my ID. Not because I'm paranoid, I just think it would be hilarious to hear people bitch "That nut Scopitone hopped a fence and ran through a mine-field instead of letting The Man scan his info. Hot!"
-^Hahahahaha^
-Sorry to hear about the car and job situation. Really sorry.
-Don't talk to X's when you're drunk. Also, you shouldn't have any feelings about them that would cause you to explode at them anyway. Just...become an emotional robot. I think you have the parts for it at work, it's easy.
-^hahahahahaa^
-Fighting with the friend can't be good either. Damn.
-You have a scar? That's awesome! I want a scar! Give me one. I command it.