Getting hammered and waxing philosophical

My weekend was full of surprises, dissapontments, and some startling realizations. On Saturday I went with my younger sister to the Haunted Trail of Horror in Kenton, OH as part of her senior project for high school. The experience was, different. I was used to her clinging on to my arm for dear life and jumping at shadows while I laughed all the while. This time her friend Elizabeth had joined us, who I suspect is secretly a world renowned track star, and she dragged my sister from haunted horror to frightful obstacle with my large frame following close behind the man chasing them with a chain saw. The video that was recorded is dark, with mostly screams and curses in the audio, none of which were mine.

Later that evening after a long car ride home, my buddy Sean and I took to the road once again in search of an elusive party which I had been invited. It ended up being a dud. I got a call from Bobby, the guy who invited me, explaining that the party had died down and there was no reason to come out anymore. So I wandered the streets of downtown trying to get back to the freeway to go home, meanwhile Sean was proclaiming our inevitable death around every street corner saying "Man, were going to get shot!"

Sunday was stress and more stress as I dealt with issues at home while trying to get some play time in with a preview copy of SmackDown vs Raw 2010, which was buggy as hell. Thankfully a form of salvation came when a recent acquaintance, waxing on friend, named Collin invited me out for a smoke at the Shi Sha lounge downtown. After a hookah of melon and mango we sauntered on down to Hound dogs to grab a pie and some beer. I thought we were done after that but Collin had other plans. He took me to one of his favorite haunts. A place that I had passed up once in search of a Guinness because of the loud Eminem song playing on the juke box. I have nothing personal against Eminem, but that is not the type of music I expect when I enter a pub.

Ah, so to make a long story short and to get to the culmination of the weekend, I had some fun. I met Collin's pub friends and then he took me home but beer brings out the philosopher in all of us, it should be said. We had a smoke and I prompted a discussion of the possibilities of human memories being mapped and stored. A honest and deep conversation began that I had no intention of starting, but which seems to be fueled by alcohol like gasoline to a fire. Many revelations and reflections took place and I walked away feeling quite refreshed and hopeful. It may sound strange, but discussions of death help me to find hope in life.

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