What Mike Did Vol. 2

When I said that moving sucks I thought I understood what 'sucked' means. During this past week-end however, moving sucked in fantasticly new ways. If Jen and I did not have good friends to help us, we would have been screwed. We simply had way too much stuff.

I have never been a part of a move that has flourished so many injuries. The light end of the pain spectrum saw me throw my back out lifting an easy chair up a rickety, metal staircase. "Truck Drivin' Son of a Bitch" Buchan also suffered many truck-drivin' related emotional traumas. On the darker end, Tomb was a bloody mess after ripping his finger open on our T.V. stand. Worst of all was Lucky Lauder, who unluckily suffered a slight fracture when she fell down a flight of stairs (the horror figurines she was carrying will be okay, but Ms. Lauder could be on crutches for a while). We were all troopers though and still managed to drink several beers on the patio until the sun went down.

I must extend some sincere gratitude towards the brave 6 whose sweat and blood ensured that Jen and I could have a new home (and thank you to my new neighbours who figured out that the gift of booze would not go wasted in this apartment). Your efforts were not in vein - we are definitely going to be happy here.