I can barely open my eyes. I’m pretty sure I have vertigo (I’ll google the symptoms later; I’m too dizzy right now).
Five days of non-stop drinking. My liver feels like the Smurf’s Olympic Trampoline squad used it for their nefarious little practice sessions. Five days of non-stop eating. I was a set of teeth and a stomach, throwing out rules, eating fucking prime rib for lunch if I felt like it. Five days of not quite being able to process the beauty and grandeur that is Montreal.
I went here:
I didn’t get to go in here:
(photo by foxtongue)
And in the middle of it all, I managed to go to this:
(Anyone who tells you Olympic Stadium in Montreal is an indoor venue is a dirty, dirty liar. And I have the windburn to prove it.)
The trip was amazing and tiring and exquisite. Specifics will follow in the days to come.
But right now, let’s talk about Rassles.
How AMAZING was that girl?!?! I was on vacation, but I still needed to check back, just to see what the hell she came up with. I love her. I think I might be IN love with her. Thanks is too small a word, but it’s all I’ve got. (Seriously. The lobe of my brain responsible for my vocabulary was lost in a vodka-related incident. Sad, really.)
More on Montreal to come, I promise. Until then, go read Rassles. She deserves it.