my week. *get the hell out of manhattan edition* 

this past week i rode my bike over the bridge to meet up with friends. oh great, i see the new official language is alien.

so i fled to somewhere that speaks my language. ah, commercialism, the language of love. so team freelance was back in full-force (at least for a day), and we took a red hook field trip.

we made the sign of the cross, and got the hell off the island.

chunks may only be a temporary team freelance member, but he's a full-time drunch member. here he is showing off his best side. damn, you are lookin' thin, dude. keep up the working out.

ok, so we didn't actually go to ikea. but we did check out red hook. damn. looks like this train runs about as frequently as the L-train from sixth avenue on a sunday after midnight during a blizzard in february.

now we're DEFINITELY speaking my language. but how do i become part of the staff? wait...what do they mean by 'staff'?

while walking about red hook, i got a text from my brother, and they're having a girl! there will finally be a womanske. i plugged patrick and jamie's pictures into a computer program, and this is approximately what the baby should look like:

we met up with matthew who left the island for greener, purpler, and yellower pastures in carol gardens. nice move, boss. tell the sweedies 'hello' for me, and that i miss them.

this past week, it really warmed my heart to see the loathed lakers get CRUSHED by the mighty boston celtics in the finals. hey, kobe, i have a uniform change suggestion for you. last year you changed from '8' to '24', because you said "it's one better than jordan". well this year, why don't you reverse it to '42'. that would be one percentage point better than what you shot in the finals. what do you think of that? jordan was 6-0 in the finals. what are you, like 3-2? AND you suffered the worst finals blow out in the HISTORY of the NBA. 'one better than jordan'? ha.

whoa. not sure where that came from...anyway. we move on to friday night. after a few 'ritas at elote and getting drenched in a flash thunderstorm, i met up with some friends for a random night in wburg. they have the creepiest pinball game at zoblosky's, called 'funhouse!'. hey, this reminds me of a clown joke...

on sunday night after playing drums for a drunch concert, i skated over to the metropolitan, where a friend tried to scrounge up a foursome. it just won't die, rafi. it just. won't. die. but i'll skate or die! rock on! ha. what a fuckin' poser...

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