4th of Jew-lie

I didn't rage this year. I've been busy with work and planning for travel. I totally lamed out for this year's festivities but had a great time even though I was in bed watching Raging Bull by 11 pm. My company was good, the Freedom Fest BBQ ruled, the friend quotient in the crowd was substantial, and the rain managed to threaten not ruin.


Both girls behind Glen in this picture look like they are about to hurl.


The ribs were ruling.


Sam definitely won the best dressed prize.


Sparks and shorts bustier one-piece? Excellent combo.


Bros.


Glen amongst shirtless bros. Seriously, I was in the bathroom line during almost the entirety of this set but thankfully still had a good view. About six of my dude friends were topless for most of it, but unfortunately they were dancing too hard for me to get a good shot.


This picture was taken about 20 seconds before something came flying off of the crowd-surfing J and hit me square between the eyes. My hand was already bandaged thanks to my stitches having one day left and I spent the rest of the party with a Coors tallboy held to my head to keep the swelling down. I had a minor knot and a bit of blood. What's a holiday without some carnage, especially on my part?

Not that long after I got hit the cops broke up the fun and I exited the party beer can still held to head. The cops hassled me about it and I bitched back and showed them the swelling. They decided to be cool about it but still lectured me. It wasn't open, such dicks.

We regrouped and went to watch the fireworks from a rooftop on Meserole. It was one of those fancy new loft buildings, the elevator took us all the way up to the roof where there were two entrances into apartments, sunken rooftop rooms leading down a spiral staircase into a massive kitchen featuring a bathroom bigger than one of the bedrooms in my pad.

Of course, scum that we are, one of the dudes I rolled in with went around the corner to piss on the roof. He was sternly berated by a friend of the occupants. Definitely not that kind of party. More chips and dip and electronic music, but fireworks are fireworks and they seem even better on a rooftop beneath the mist of a light rain and in the arms of a fellow. Next to us the hosts stood, a married couple, with their beautiful little boy on the father's shoulders. Watching fireworks is so much more amazing when watching them next to baby eyes. The little one was amazed and amazing. A heartfelt wholesome rendezvous in an otherwise debauched weekend.