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Like a grenade in a hotdog stand

Boy howdy, I’m tired.  Saturday, Pratt called and said he was going to be down in the area and wanted to know if I wanted to hang out.  I said, “sure” and made the off-hand comment about bringing his Playstation 3 down to the Grove.  Once he arrived around ten at night, we hooked up the PS3 and started to play his newly purchased Grand Theft Auto 4.  Actually, the PS3 had to download a bunch of things before we played, so we a sat and groused for twenty minutes while the machine downloaded and reset itself repeatedly.  Then we played.

It started out with us driving around, or shooting at random victims, the usual GTA past times.  Then, Pratt started picking on the hotdog vendor, blowing up his stand, hunting him down.  I started driving off of the tallest building.  And then we were suiciding.  We would take turns finding the best way to end of virtual life.  Pratt had fun running in to crowds with a unpinned grenade, I would blow myself off of the side of a building.  And all of these were enhanced by the slo-mo that takes place once you’ve passed on to the afterlife. 

At one point, I remember looking at the clock and seeing that it was three in the morning and thinking, “ok, I’ve got to get to bed after this last time.”  And then eventually at four I did make it to bed, which killed me for the rest of the weekend.  I was a essentially a zombie without the hunger pains for brains.  Four cups of coffee and a round of psuedophed, I was half-awake on the couch which led to me being non-verbal.  I feel bad for Jess ebcause she needed me to proof her final project for her class, hopefully I was coherent enough to read. 

This is just a continuation of my aging, I can’t do all-nighters and the rebound like I used to.  I just become mentally crippled and socially lobotomized… or at least more so than I usually am.