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Is it a good thing when you see little red specks on the road that you assume to have been part of a cherry slushpuppy or some such thing, follow the trail, and discover it leading to a knife? And this being in the middle of a city street? And the general reaction of the group of people you're in is "Hey, cool! Somebody died here!?"

We had a parade in Huntington today. We also played Louie, Louie. And were on TV. The bloody knife wasn't. I couldn't find my white shoes, so I took my black marching shoes, and put white socks on over top of them. From a distance, you couldn't tell. By the end of the parade, they had huge holes in 'em.

Granny gave me ten bucks today. :) She spoils me.

I'm going to the local Putt-Putt tonight with Eric, Angie, and Reka. Should be interesting.

Mom brought home the movie of Jason and the Argonauts. I'm about halfway through, and it's not too bad. They did a pretty good job at portraying the harpies. :)

You know...the US sucks. All we have is the Dream Team and such things. Greece gets a collection of badass legends. Dammit.

I'm done.

Slainte Mhath and Pax Vobiscum.

John-Boy