Independence Day

Frowny face. I am mildly hungover today. For some reason I felt like I had to drink about ten Red Strips at Reggae Night at the War Room last night to be cool and be able to dance to semi-horrible dance hall music. This was a bad idea for several reasons: 1) Red Strip is a horrible excuse for a beer. 2) Drinking alcohol in large quantities rarely makes you cooler (unless you're David Hasselhoff), and 3) My head feels like it got hit by a bus right now, and it's the 4th of July, and on the 4th of July you're supposed to be partying your buttocks off, but I don't want to party my buttocks off right now, I want to anchor my buttocks to my bed and not move for 3-15 years.
Enough negativity, though.
On a positive note, the new house I moved into on 40th AVE NE is absolutely awesome. It is close to the Burke Gilman and close to a park that has a generous amount of grassy field and two tennis courts so I can get my Michael Chang on (obscure reference, but if you've never heard of him, Michael Chang is the epitome of Asian-American tennis prowess. I'm not sure how this relates to me, but I thought it would be cooler than putting someone like "Roger Federer" or "Pete Sampras).
Anyway, it should be a beautiful day to celebrate our nation's independence from those nit-picky Brits. I think Thomas Jefferson and the rest of the founding fathers would all be pleased that the number goal of most citizens on this glorious day is to get rip-roaring drunk and/or blow their hands off with firecrackers.

Happy 4th,

Boosh Clown

P.S. Shout-out to Nivi. Whoop whoop!