30 hours is enough

I just had the best fucking weekend. People aren't meant to have this much fun.

First, JB came up and visited. My credit card is still in Ballard somewhere. What was the name of that bar again?

I don't feel like recounting at this point, suffice it to say we partied like West Virginians. Funny, that.

After I threw his cell charger to him off my balcony, JB and his gf took off to do their own thing. Of course I immediately called up the girl I'm seeing.

She came over around 4PM Saturday. We drank. Alot. And watched football. I love this chick (not real love -- you know what I mean). I left her place around 10PM Sunday. Good times.

There are funny things I want to say, but now I'm hesitant because I don't know who's reading this.

I guess my parting statement will be that Farmhouse is one helluva Phish album. You heard it here, 6 years hence.