Yesterday my little brother had a party for his 22nd birthday. Ashley and I stopped by after we ate dinner with her parents. Danny’s friend Brandon, who I haven’t seen in like ten years or something, was there, which was nice even though Brandon had been drinking since that morning and drifted in and out of lucidity every few minutes. Dad’s drinking buddy Lloyd was there, too; Lloyd is a nice guy whose idea of a good day is drinking beer continuously starting at 9 a.m., which is what he did yesterday. Since Dad was with him most of the day, that’s what Dad did too. Ashley and I hung around for about half an hour and went back to her place. My DVDs of the American version of The Office had arrived, so we watched the first episode of that before we left for Jamie’s.
Brian’s birthday party was last night, too. It was at Jamie’s because it was a surprise party. It was a surprise party because a few weeks ago Brian said, “You know, my birthday’s coming up and no one’s ever thrown me a surprise party before . . .” He then suggested who he’d like to have at this hypothetical surprise party, and when he’d like to have it. Ashley and I showed up a little after nine. We sat down, met the people we didn’t know, and hung out for about two and a half hours. Brian’s older brother Dave, one of my best friends since elementary school, showed up before long and eventually he, Ashley and I, Jamie and Brian wound up in Jamie’s kitchen just knocking around whatever came up. Desperate Housewives, Wet, Hot American Summer, how old the beer was that Dave brought, the authenticity of Full Metal Jacket, the ultra right-wing mailing list Jamie and I now find ourselves on as a result of knowing Darren, the thoroughness of the government when doing background checks for security clearances, Sam Harris vs. Andrew Sullivan, a friend of Jamie’s who used to eat acid by the sheet and then hand out candy laced in LSD to children . . . It was probably the last time I’ll see Jamie for awhile, since he’s moving to College Park for school, so I’m glad it was a good time. After we announced we were leaving, a friend of Jamie’s (whose name I presently forget, which makes me feel like shit because he was a very cool dude) picked Ashley up and handed her to me, reassuring me that I had nothing to worry about because he was gay. I wasn’t worried about him; he was a very cool dude indeed. Dave would’ve been another story – he’ll fuck anything with a hole. God bless ‘im.