the other day, jonny airplanes was checking out the pix i took at the cradle of aviation museum when he came across my post on drinking with left hand rob in which i brought up the ghosts of the bastard's drinking past and jon felt compelled to make it the the ghosts of drinking present so i received a little note from him on monday or tuesday decrying my post saying that the thursday night stoop will be back this thursday. now the bastard got himself a case of the food poisoning or stomach virus or some crap but either way, i've been crippled the last few days. jon wanted no part of my excuses, the ghosts were coming tonight and they were going to do it whether i wanted it or not. so i hazarded more stomach grief to meet with the crew on the stoop which has laid dormant like so many egyptian tombs. jonny came by and dean thrilla came with zsolt and matty aces in tow. rather they came in zsolt's car so i guess that aces and thrilla were the ones in tow.
either way, there was drinking and there was the stoop and nary a brick had moved since the last time we sat and drank on it and it was good. you see jon has made it his business to show the bastard the error of his ways and to remind him like a fucking hammer of the value of things past and of friends and how you're friends are never more than a phone call away and while i'm thinking about it apparently, so is that god damned stoop. it's funny because queens village has new kids and they're hot shit too. and i think they found it kind of curious to see the 5 old ass white boys hanging out on the stoop at 11 o clock at night drinking beers and telling tall tales. except of course all of airplane's were tales of vegas so i know they were true, the bastard was there.
all in all it was good stuff and nothing says hahdcore like a bunch of thirty somethings drinking beers on a stoop at 11 o'clock at night. don't call it a comeback shiteyes.