June: Part 1

• The attic continues to be worked on.
• DJ continues to not live here.
• Mark has left us for good.
• Speaking of Mark leaving us...

Thursday June 16

• In an effort to include all underage roommates in drinking to celebrate Mark's departure we decided daiquiris and the fire pit would be a good idea.
• Things started off well.
• The fire pit was placed in our pool for that extra sexy reflection thing.
• Due to the inordinate amounts of wood we have on our premises from attic construction the fire soon reached, what many might consider, an unsafe level.
• But it was cool, b/c alcohol does that.
• As more people showed up (not a lot, but some) the daiquiris consumption increased. This lead to the depletion of "typical" frozen drink booze.
• Another troubling phenomenon was the dwindling of burning material.
• Two things then occurred...
• 1 - In order to keep drinking we began to scour the house for any alcohol that might be thrown into a blender with ice and consumed.
• 2 - In order to keep burning Mark graciously offered up his dresser as fire wood, and our neighbors graciously offered up their sledgehammer so that we might better fit the dresser in the fire pit.
• Along about this time the squirt guns entered the picture. As is customary when booze and the threat of getting squirted is present somebody crossed the line. Who isn't important (read: I can't remember), but as the end of round 1 DJ and I were absolutely soaked.
• Round 2 began with an alliance betwixt DJ and myself. The plan was to squirt the dozen or so people sitting around the fire. We flanked them, but Roach lunged from his chair and wrestled DJ to the ground and secured his firearm.
  
• Alcohol consumption reached ridiculous levels as rum was soon substituted with Everclear, small amounts of Grey Goose and beer, and eventually...
  
• After burning the dresser the logical step seemed to be smash something else to burn. The yellow TV stand that we inherited with the house would have to oblige.
• Afterwards the mysterious wooden platform that we also inherited with the house and had lived on our front porch throughout our tenure here met the fire pit.
• ...the last pitcher of delicious booze was made of Kaluah, Bailey's, and Kessler's. Wow!
• About this time Roach and I decided it would be fun to climb the scaffolding next to our house.
• On the way down two cops showed up. Roach scurried inside due to his lack of having lived long enough to legally consume happiness, er, alcohol.
• I journeyed to the front where they took mine, Mark's, and J's IDs. (Rick was inside "going to bed").
• They informed us that a noise complaint had been issued. We assumed it had been from that cunt of a neighborhood president down the street that hates us for doing and being everything he can't or isn't anymore.
• In exchange for not giving us a ticket we were told to let the fire die out and be very quiet. The cops then went up/down the block a ways and observed us for about 15-20 minutes, then left.
• Long about 3 am two little high school punk-wannabe-gangsters showed up. Specifics of this encounter are sketchy at best, but needless to say it was hilarious.

Thus concluded Mark's Going Away Party: Part 1