THAT MID WEEK HEAT MAKES MY SPAGHETTI LOOSE

My friend Jon turned 27 on July 16th, but since he was in Montreal working, his birthday went by and there was no party, no cake, no favours, no gifts, no 'loons. So last night some of his friends organized a belated surprise party for him, the theme being Michael Jackson's funeral.

This post normally would've kicked into high gear right about now had I been there for the surprise, costumes and cake, but by the time I got there it was a standard roof party with cake remnants and a few grapes. Plus I forgot my camera so I can't even show you that stuff. Some older brother I am.

This isn't the roof party, but it's a roof party. A real good one by the looks of things.

That's bad for you, but it was still good for me because I got to see a bunch of a-okays, some of which I hadn't seen in all summer long. We had a long talk about John Cusack and the Coen brothers and then the coppers showed up because they were scared we were going to fall off the roof. No biggie. I play cops like Reginald Val Johnson. <-----sick verse.

Roof party international world wide, unity

Then we played with some chalk for awhile, Katie sat on a grape (makin' wine guy) and someone's bike got broken.

Roof party at TV's Christian Campbell's house, NYC. Not the one I'm talking about up there. Years ago.

Monday and Tuesday I was feeling pretty dumpy doo, so hopefully things will change with the coming of Wednesday, the most feminine of all the days. Monday is kind of like an old lady, Tuesday is a boring reliable guy, Thursday is a jock, Friday is a party animal, and Saturday is the coolest guy you know. Sunday is an old lady I think. Have I gone through this before? I hope that I did and that I explained it exactly the same. Otherwise I'll look like a turd.