So here I am, at a bleak university campus, sitting in the lounge. My typical Mountain Equipment Co-op backpack, cargo jacket, pashmina, cell phone, and coffee are taking up the majority of this hideous purple faux leather couch I am seated on. Avoiding studying at all costs, I was browsing Brooks Reynolds' new website and portfolio. I came across a photo of a member of pre-teen generic 'hardcore' band Dead and Divine and was reminded of a night around this time last year.
Some friends and I spent some time at Grimsby beach sipping on beers, awaiting an adventure, we wern't sure what type of night it would be, but we were set on having a good one. As the sun was setting I remember we stuffed our tall cans, mickeys and wine bottles into our beach bag and set off to a birthday party. The party was pretty dull so, some friends and I sat in the corner chain-smoking, and finishing our drinks as quickley as possible. Here is the part of the story I was reminded of; some little lady walked onto the deck of the party, scanning for people she knew which was ultimately comfort. She settled in and began to eye the three of us in the corner. Tyler who I was with happened to have quite the moustache at the time. She exclaimed "WHOAH, YOU LOOK LIKE MATT TOBIN, OH MY GOD ARE YOU GUYS RELATED!!!!!!!??" Ty then rolled his eyes, behind the lense of his sunglasses and replied along the lines of "Fuck you, I am not, and never will be similar to Matt fucking Tobin!" Drunken Nicole and I thought this was hilarious while the host of the party thought it was rude and embarrassing. We then took our drinks and smokes to the driveway where we invited the attendees of another birthday party which the cops had broken up. Those who we invited showed up with a box full of firecrackers and began to set them off with hatred on the birthday girl's front lawn. Cops were called and we left. We headed to the broken up party in hopes it was a party again, got harrassed at the door, and continued to the backyard. By the time we left the cops were back on their way, and I was behind the wheel of Vanessa's crappy brown corsica, with a passenger, and a backseat full of friends who were aparently more intoxicated than me. I literally pulled around the first corner and Tyler and his moustache were calling for a stop. I stop, Tyler leaps from the corsica onto someone's lawn and began to puke. Lights went on in the house, cops were pulling around the corner, and we pulled Ty back into the vehicle and quietly drove home.

This also brings memory of Brent and Ty's race for shotgun which turned into Ty's head getting slammed into the door, Ty going unconscious, followed by seizing, me waking him up, and forcing everyone to take him to the hospital. That is another story alltogether, but overall, sucks Ty now moved, he is a fun pal.