The blur of my two month vacation

I had this naive notion that my summer would bring long, lazy, restful days. Yeah, fuck that. I can rest all I want when I die. It's not like there's shit else to do. July 4th (the parts that I remember) proved to be a fruitful endeavour. Good food, Good people, Good times. The ghost of Roscoe even made an appearance after about twenty MGD's.
The craziness will continue as I'm leaving for NYC on Tuesday, spending the better part of the next two weeks in the Northeast visiting friends and family. I can't wait to return to the land of pompous Yankees and delicious cheesesteaks. I plan on returning with a pot belly and a black eye.