I went to a basement show last night and had pretty much the most fun I've had in I don't know how long. Stereo Coma headlining (I'm good friends with the singer's brother), with Hoser, Blankbook and Children's Books supporting. Met a lot of really rad people. On the way back to my buddy's apartment we had a ton of Hoser stickers and there was a certain Comcast van that isn't every going to look the same. Then my buddy, driving my car, backed real close to a guy watching us do it, so that I hit him with the door I was trying to climb into. By accident. But my reaction was just to shout PUNK ROCK at him and we sped off. I ended up passing out around 3 or 4am, after smoking far too much. I woke up at 8 with 3 texts. 1 from my buddy who owns the apartment asking if the girl I brought back with us was single (hell if I know I barely remember her being there). And 2 from my other friend that came with us who decided to WALK [bleep]ING HOME. It's like a 30 minute drive from the apartment we were in back to his house, and that's pure high way. His phone's now dead and I have no idea where he is. If he just waited another 3 hours I would have driven him home for christ's sake. It's not even like it's nice out. Then I had to wake my friend who own's the apartment up and ask him where my car was because for all I knew it was still in Center City.

Started the Mosh pit, got hit by chicks, and shook hands with bums. God damn I had fun.