DAMMIT, REFRIGERATOR

Our fridge has decided it's tired of keeping things cold and would instead like to see that they remain only diffidently chilled with whatever cold air remains within its confines. Generating new cold air is so 2004. The maintenance people are going to bludgeon its uncooperative metal guts into submission sometime today, hopefully.

This weekend was great fun. Pictures of some sort will probably emerge soon. The greatest thing was the maneuver we pulled on Saturday night: With the rain scuttling our plans for a bonfire, we weighed our options and decided to rent a motel room for the night instead of bothering my housemates. This was both a classy and totally rockstar thing to do, in my opinion. This allowed at least some of us to mentally christen the event as the after-party for a show by the fictional (and totally fucking awesome) band The C.S. Lewis Reference. There was a-hootin', and a-hollerin', and a-drinkin'. Oh man.

I guess you had to be there.