Last night I went by my country music lovin’ boyfriend Carey Price’s place of work, you know, just to check in. He had a bit of an off night, which is a pity, since he was doing so well for the majority of the game.
feed.angeli.ca
rock'n'roll, country, punk & metal.
bands that combine all four successfully.
design, graphic & interior.
the intersection of philosophy & sociology.
ampersands.
andrew wk.
emergent gameplay, of the videogaming variety.
cursing.
beards.
beer.
bbq.
cjlo.
deep fried everything.
americana.
making lists, including this one of my life's ambitions, and these of things on my mind at the time.
feedback: @angelidotca or ask me anything you'd like here.
i took a trip! read about it here.
evidence of my lame yuppie side on my (gasp!) house blog here.
Last night, while watching Habs replays:
- Me: Carey Price seems a lot more focused. Maybe they installed a prostitute block on his apartment door.
- Andrew: What, a book?
Habs vs. Penguins in Stanley Cup playoffs
+ living two blocks from the Bell Center
+ having a car with Pennsylvania plates
+ Montreal’s propensity for hockey riots
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Oh crap. I think we need to buy some Habs flags/stickers AND FAST.
