This past Saturday night I went to the Fall Out Boy concert at the Molson Amphitheater, which was pretty good. As expected, the crowd had an average age of about 13, but there weren’t as many disturbing little emo kids as I had thought there would be.
We missed Paul Wall, which was sad, because he would have been cool to see. +44 was the best band of the night, but Fall Out Boy wasn’t as bad live as I’ve heard they are. It was a good time overall.
I got home around 1:30am, and was thinking about heading over to a party that my friends were at, but it was kinda late, and I was pretty tired. I had a snack and decided to hit the hay. As I went to lay down in my bed, I noticed it was all wet. I switched the light back on and realized my bed was covered in barf. Not cool. It turns out the dog wasn’t feeling well and she barfed in my bed and somehow twirled it around through all of my sheets, so I had to find new ones.
I got my bed all fixed up and finally got to bed at around 2:30. I got a phone call at about 3:45am from Albert, asking me if I could come pick him and Alan up, because Alan needed to go to the hospital. It turns out Alan was riding a bike home from the party, and he smashed his face into a street sign. So my brothers and I headed over, picked them up and went down to the hospital where Alan received 12 stitches in his head.
I finally got to bed at about 5am and slept in until 2pm on Sunday afternoon. Good times.