Soooo....woke up with a phone call at around nine in the morning from Ashley reminding me that I had committed to going to the gun range with her and Stephan at 11AM. I have no memory of making this arrangement and taking her at her word I decide to get out of bed and prepare myself for the day, which apparently will begin with launching projectiles at targets. Cool beans, I suppose. Anyway, I get up there before them because they're running late. I actually sat and thought about it. If they show up somewhere on time, they're still early because the cosmic expectation of their arrival is set to + 30 minutes. Anyhow, I started without them, trying out the gun recently handed down to me from my father. It fires like nothing I've ever shot before. Clean trigger pull and a slide action that actually seems to pull the gun back on target. I seem to be deadly accurate with that son-of-a-bitch. Like I said, I started without them and expected them to catch up later. It started raining though so I blasted off my last few rounds and bailed. I stopped in and signed up for my CHL (concealed hangun license) course which I'll be taking in early March. Which means if you see me, assume I'm strapped or packing heat or whatever the kids on the street call it nowadays. And I'll be carrying that aforementioned .45 semi-automatic because all those gangsta rappers who brag about getting shot eight times and surviving probably got hit with a 9mm. Trust me when I say nobody is getting up after taking a couple of .45 hollowpoints to the chest.
So, after playing bang-bang at the range I picked up my brother and we grabbed some lunch and were planning on going to the bookstore but the damned weather made us feel like cutting the trip short, so we headed back home where I proceeded to take a nap because I didn't want to fall asleep when I headed over to Ariana's later in the evening for her birthday party. I made sure her present was ready by the stairs before hitting the sack and cruised through dreamland for a good two hours.
Woke up, headed over to her place where shit got krunk for reals. I guess. Mostly it was just me, her and Sergio cracking wise and popping off obscure film references. There were cupcakes and she imitated the Spice Girls dance while one of their old hits played on the stereo. That same mix had some Stealer's Wheel and Johnny Cash. Never say that woman doesn't have AWESOME taste in music. I high-tailed it out of there sometime before eleven and after I embarassed myself by farting in front of her. She commented that she had never heard me fart in front of her, and so I guess that was the best birthday gift of all. But she also got a stuffed cow so it's hard to tell.
Tomorrow is the Academy Awards. Expect a MASSIVE writeup regarding that dog and pony show. I'll probably be more cynical than usual, if that's even possible. I suppose I wouldn't want to dissapoint anybody or anything.
This entry was posted
on Sunday, February 22, 2009
at 12:00 AM
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Ariana,
Birthday,
Gun Range
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