Out on the Town

The temperature at work continues to build to Muspelheim-esque levels. I'm pretty sure the Boss is using the incredible heat to forge a Ring of Power that will give him dominion over all of the Midlands, and it's starting to get to the point where it's downright intolerable.

Around six, Ben and I just lost it and started slapping each other in the face for the next hour. This was right before the insane heat was replaced by rain coming down so hard it went sideways, which Ben's wife referred to as "unnatural."

But all was not lost, for today is Josh Howard's birthday. Not the one who draws comics, the one that I work with. And to celebrate, a crew of us went out to a bar called The Red Tub, a cool little second-story joint that featured a bartender who was gorgeous.

The big deal, though, was that Rob "Soul Brother #1" Lindsey was playing a show, so after I bought Josh a Red Bull and Vodka to celebrate (he's 21 today, after all), the plan was to head over to New Brookland for some rockin' out.

When we got to the door, though, I wasn't feeling too well, so I told the guys to make my apologies and went to head home. Halfway down the street, however, I changed my mind. As Tug would say, I "flipped the bitch switch back off," and punked back in, only to have Josh burn me with his cigarette for my troubles.

But hey, when it's your birthday, you can commit whatever minor acts of violence on your friends that you want.

Rob, needless to say, rocked the house party at the drop of a hat. He played all the favorites, including Bad News Lady and a little song called Stages that I didn't realize was a break-up song until I listened to it the day after my ex broke up with me.

But here's the thing: The air conditioner at New Brookland was broken. And since they were having a CD release party, they were serving free Mexican food, which is traditionally served hot and was being kept warm by nice open flames. And the place was packed.

It was a frigg'n sauna in there.

I couldn't take it. Between the Hot Tin Roof of the shop and my own massive lunch of delicious Mexican food, I think there was a very real danger of me exploding like that guy from Scanners. So when Rob finished up his set, I bailed out.

This was, of course, all a mere preview of the chaos that will be unleashed on Columbia tomorrow when we actually celebrate Josh's birthday. I fully expect it to crack the internet in half, so there won't be an ISB update tomorrow night. But be on the lookout saturday for a little installment I like to think of as "Fat P.'s Tales of Debauchery."

As for right now, I'm going to go stand in front of the freezer for the next three hours and try to remember what winter feels like.