We threw a party a couple of weeks ago for Mandela. He was going to the circus. It was a Mandela’s Going to the Circus Party. Nobody really knows if Mandela left yet, where he went, or what he’s doing. But his plan was to move to Vermont and join the circus. While he is like 8 feet tall, he wasn’t going to be an attraction, but a concessionaire. We had a cozy party in our house for the first time since it was furnished.
There’s the big friendly giant himself. He brought over some beats he had made on his computer keyboard. They sounded like they were done in a studio:
The spunky girl to the left is Sara’s best friend Gillian. God I’m watching this crappy movie Hostel. God damnit all it’s crappy. Anyway, Gillian hangs out at Sara’s bar all the time. It’s always Gillian this and Gillian that. But what’s not to love? She likes Richard Russo and Judd Apatow. The shifty character to the right is Carson. He’s just Carson.
Then there’s a bunch more drinking. Then some people go home, then there some sleep. Sleep, sleep sleep. More sleep, then we wake up. Then Blair and Jess and Kristin call and it’s pretty hot, so we decide to go to the Clackamas River to swim.
White monkeys drinking Brass Monkeys: