One of the things I hate about the Times-Colonist is that the banner headline rarely has anything to do with the above-the-fold banner photo. You’ll have “Millions Die In Screaming Mall Rampage” above a pic of a little girl holding the first daffodil of spring.
I only mention it because the above pic only has relevance to the body of this post at the deeper levels, seriously not worth delving into unless you’re me, and have time on your hands for that sort of soul searching. I just posted the pic ’cause I like it. =)
So how the hell did it get to be 5am? Prolly happened soon after 4am, but I’m not going to point fingers. The evidence can rarely be trusted at face value. Not when there’s a drink or two involved.
I can’t tell the whole story, which is a pity because it’s pretty funny stuff. You’ll just have to be happy with the bits I can share. I’m not being elitist. I’m just excercising discretion. And it’s not that big a deal so forget I even mentioned it. Or I’ll have to make something up. So shut up and keep reading. [mental note: erase this paragraph. it’s more trouble than it’s worth.]
Kat & I closed shop after a slow but thoroughly entertaining evening and I set off for home. I got halfway through Bastion Square when Teri intercepted me and rerouted me to Lucky where I spent the next few hours hanging out with Liam (Lux) & Co discussing everything from the Wall Of Boobies to the theatrical merit of Dead Alive, The Day After Tomorrow and Napoleon Dynamite, which in this case refers to the movie, not the alter ego of Elvis Costello. True story. Who knew.
Anyway, it’s 5am and even though I had a slightly surreal great time after hours (thanks for the kidnapping, Teri) it’s very good to be home. I’m looking forward to bed. Warm, cozy bed. mmmzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…