Notes for this entry were lost.
With my head feeling like a car crash in slow motion, I forced myself out of bed for rehearsal. JL called all of the worst songs in our repertoire (looking at you, "Wrecking Ball") and it was nothing short of miraculous when we were free to go. Once I got home, a quick Super Smash Bros. session was followed by a vital nap. I rose again at the responsible time of 6 p.m. for a trip to Tasty Burger, where we watched the Seahawks/49ers football game. The Seahawks prevailed through uncalled fouls and general douchery, some guy's leg got destroyed, Josh N cried his eyes out (figuratively), and a 35+ year old cougar unsuccessfully preyed on him.
We returned home for another, smaller party, and I whiled away the evening smoking, drinking and decorating. Alaric and I ventured out for a midnight cigar ramble, and this time, we ended up deep in Roxbury. At one point, we looked out over the city from a deserted stretch of 4-lane in a strangely peaceful moment. Soon afterward, we had an extremely terrifying encounter with two guys in a car that kept pulling even with us as we walked. This was the scariest thing that's happened to me in Boston, with the possible exception of the Cyber Dave incident last year.
Quote of the day:
"I was resisting the urge to look over at them as we went by." - Alaric, after we finished crapping our pants
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