Yesterday was a day off devoted to a whole lot of nothing on my part. I did some surfing (I heart the internet), made that gay ass quiz and random other shit. Eventually the lovely Amy arrived to my place 3 hours late for a photo session I arranged earlier in the week. I'm intent on honing my skills as a photographer and was gracious enough to have Amy loan me her body for some portraits. The idea is that I'll become better at it, have a decent portfolio to share with people and maybe get actual paying jobs out of it. Anyway, in the confines of my place with all the lighting needed, the place was cooking and I become a sweaty mess during the 2 hours we were working. Due to her late arrival, I never did get around to eating anything for dinner...and in the moment I had a couple swigs of whiskey. Long story short, I was planning on going to the Troc to see my friend's band play and meet up with friends and instead I spent the night nursing a head wound. How you ask? Well, I'm guessing not eating, sweating and whiskey made me woozier than I thought I was and I fainted in my apartment. Thankfully I wasn't out for longer than maybe 3 or 4 seconds, but the force of my head hitting hardwood floors was not good. Hurt like a motherfucker to tell you the truth. I got up off the floor, did a little icing up and hit the sack anxious to forget it ever happened at all. I probably should have called my friends to tell them what had happened, but since I didn't and they never called to see why I never made it, I guess it didn't matter anyway.
Today I woke up with a bit of headache, but my swelling subsided and I was good to go. And thankfully so since my Old Man was in town from Virginia to spend some time with me. We hit up the Melrose Dinner in dirty Southy Philly for a late breakfast (2 PM) and then he forced me to sit through Hitch. Ugh. I don't know what was worse, seeing this movie or knowing that my Dad was watching it for the second time. That's right, movies out right now are so awful that he had to see Hitch a second time. It was his dime, so I'll live. But God I just don't like Will Smith. Kevin James was funny, but the whole story line was just so over the top. I'd like to believe that a fat guy can find love, but I've done the research and it ain't possible. Constantine was more realistic. I did however manage to wrangle out of the rest of the plans with dear old Dad which included seeing not 1, but 2 cover bands in the next 6 hours both in New Jersey. Thanks, but I"ll pass. I'm up for a lot of things, but seeing cover bands in Atlantic City is not for me.
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