one more for good measure

Wasn't that an album title of sorts for some one-hit wonder or something...?

anyway.

I meant to recap of quite an eventful weekend. For your reading pleasure.

Friday: I got feisty.
So Ten Second March was playing at Juke's on Friday. Good times. I, indeed, was inclined to go since I needed some much overdue human interaction. Especially since I spent 15 hours traveling the day before.
I was hanging out with friends and such and then... enter douchebag. I've never seen him before, and he just came off as the typical drunk dude looking to have a rompin' good time. Fine, whatever. He was standing next to me, and me being the friendly shmoe I am, I made a few humorous comments here and there. Apparently he didn't dig my sense of humor, because he wasn't laughing.
At one point, he spilled his beer on me. Simple accident, sure, but no apology or courtesy. Later on, I was talking to my friend Leane, and this same guy butts in and says, "you know what? go sit the fuck down, you fucking bitch."

Enter, the Ruthless Pirate Nicole.

Needless to say, I had exchanged a few unkind words to him, pushed him around a bit. I don't like to fight, but if you call me names and you don't even know my first name to make it come off as a joke, I'm going to slap you around a bit.

Then, Ten Second March jumps on. They had a heckler, indeed. It wasn't a fun heckler I am to the Walking Corpses. He had been picking fights with the singer and the bass player since they started playing and finally Rob, the singer, asks the guy if he just wants to get it over with and fight.
No words exchanged; the guy got on stage and headbutts Rob. Three punches, and the guy has a broken nose. That all happened when I went to the bathroom for five minutes.
Who headbutts someone? You don't see that kind of stuff unless you're watching a Van Damme movie.

Saturday: Yarr, says I.
Nothing too controversial happened here. I dressed up like a hot evil pirate for a pirate party, people asked me about my tattoo a lot, drank a bunch of horrible rum, and ended the night feeling rather relaxed at our friend's house, watching "Curb Your Enthusiasm."
Did I mention that I saw Kurt Cobain at the Circle K? The mystery has been solved. He works there. Go exploit it.

Sunday: zombie invasion?
You bet. I get a call from work while I'm on my way, as my boogers are freezing to the insides of my nostrils, telling me to bundle up a bit better because the power's out. Sweet.
With the power being out, nobody could use their cards, pump gas, or get coffee. It was also the most fateful day that I decided not to bring anything to read. Awesome. With the way the store looked and how creepy the backroom was, it was a horror movie set. I was waiting for the zombies to invade for a movie called "Winter of the Dead".

Amber and I decided that we could find a way to get to the roof, make parachutes out of hamburger bun bags, and make our way to my car, and then blow up the gas station. Woo hoo.