I must not succomb to a refrigerator full of liquor store beers in the future. I got to this party early, downed a few, and - being the wuss I am - nearly passed out in grogginess DESPITE the audial horror coming from announcers and musicians practicing their wails for the Stadium of Fire (tm). But then the dunk-tank came (not the, although it would have been just as appropriate, drunk tank) and we carpeted the roof. Then people came and I became more drunken and disorderly with them. A few blurry remnants were captured, I guess, adequately. The camera has a strange internal connection with the psyche of its user, apparently.

Language lovers, I have sinned greatly in this post with my adverbial excessivity; please accept wy words though, because I write them apologetically.

Labels: Houses, Photos