An Open Letter

I’d like to issue a formal apology to the people of Westport for my behavior on the evening of Saturday, September 24, 2005.
I apologize for the following acts:

  • Calling everyone “bro”.
  • Exhausting The Hurricane of it’s precious PBR.
  • Stomping on innumerable feet while moshing.
  • Screaming at the top of my lungs every few seconds. I’ll buy you all new ears, or at least batteries for your hearing aids.
  • Starting a pit with the intention of getting kicked out and then actually only seeing some of my “bros” getting kicked out. One by an extremely pissed off young lady.
  • Asking an ex-coworker “So, you are with Oracle now?” over and over cause I kept forgetting her answer.
  • Hero worshiping Miah of One Degree Difference.
  • Trying to tell anyone that would listen to how to make me a Key Lime Pie.
  • Generally being an idiot at James the Chubbys security guard. On a side note, when the security guard at your favorite drunken breakfast place starts to recognize you and says “Are you guys down here every weekend, or what?” it’s time to… well… keep doing it, cause it’s fun. I guess.

    I’m sure I’ve missed some, but that should be enough to get the ball rolling.
    All that silliness aside, I had a lot of fun this week and weekend. My entire body feels like it’s going to come apart at the seams and I don’t think my neck, or liver for that matter, will ever be the same but I won’t soon forget this one.

    The coming week is going to be big and lame and boring. There’s not a thingy going on until Saturday night. Which is probably for the best, all told.

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