2002-01-04 - 1:56 p.m.
Well, my birthday party went extremely well. We all got tee-rashed at the Hole In The Wall and sang kareoke. I sang "Stand By Your Man" and the CD began skipping at the end of the chorus. That lead me into about half a minute of "stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-stan-by-by- by-by-by-by-by-by-by-by-by-by-by-by-by-by-by-byby-by-by-by-by-by-by…" before the MC stopped the song. Later, I sang a very sensitive version of "Play That Funky Music White Boy". You shoulda been there. After the bar closed, a buncha my friends came over to drink. A certain music writer brought over a big box of fireworks. I think you can see what's coming. Yes, at 5am we went in front of my house and shot off fireworks till the neighbors called the cops. Mike and Danny had a huge bunch of bottle rockets lined up in my mailbox and couldn't get their lighter to work. So I walked up with my trusty Zippo and shot 'em off just as the cop pulled up. BUSTED! Everybody else ran into the house and I drunkenly walked straight up to the cop car. The cop sat me down on the curb and talked to me for a long time. He told me I was obviously very drunk (true) and that he could easily bust me for P.I. (boo). A drunk girl kept trying to come out of my house and talk to us and the cop kept yelling at her to go back inside. She kept coming out of the front door and I finally had to scream, "Get back in the damn house!" before she made herself scarce. The cop and I talked some more and he told me in a kind of aggrivated way, "You sure are polite." As if I was calling him "Sir" because I had something to hide. I told him it was military school training. He let me off with a ticket for fireworks within city limits and drove away. When I was walking back to the house, Danny popped out of the bushes and said "Hey Wammo." I nearly jumped through my skin. I thought he was in the house but I suddenly realized exactly what he had done, He had gone out the back door and sneaked around the house, over the fence and down the driveway to make sure that the cop didn't beat me up. Of course, he was as drunk as I was. He could have gotten us both busted or worse but he's my bud and he was watching my back. What a nut. Anyway, I went into the house and took up a collection for the ticket (which I found out later is gonna cost $256.) A few people kicked in and I rounded up 40 bucks, except of course for the music writer, who said as his excuse for not chipping in, "Hey Man, I brought beer and fireworks." The next day, Danny gave me shit all day for being nice to cops with my "military school training." Hup! Two! Three! Four! Yes Sir! Kiss your ass, Sir! Don't stick it in too far, Sir!"
