Flyers suck
Dad's conference in Philly was about teaching people the basics of development.
Like the people who treat the homeless/insane/addicts... How to let them know that in order to build housing for these people you kinda have to have some idea as to how the process works.
He talked a lot about technical support and stuff.
Lots of people thanked him for coming and everything. I was bored outa my mind and totally lost.
We wandered through Chinatown for a while and went to the Reading Terminal Market (which is like taking Chinatown, whole foods and a mall and shoving them all into one big establishment)
We went to the art museum and in front of it there was a big celebration for the Israeli independence day and we joined in an effort to make the world's largest Hora. We were going for 3000 people but only half that showed up. It was still fun. We looked at the imported clothes and books and photos that were on sale in tents by the street. And there was lots of jewelry and mezzuzahs and cool stuff.
We had cheesesteaks at Pat's and they were hella good.
Then I felt sick for the next two hours
But they were still hella good.
I was mad that the hotel allowed pets cause Kosmo wasn't there with us. He would have loved the city.. The parks and stuff and I'm sure the city would have loved him. We didn't see any other goldens while we were there, Kosmic needs to travel with us.
One night we were eating tapas on South Street and a guy parked illegally by where we were sitting and ran into the blockbuster for a game. We were talking about how long it would take for him to get a ticket when the guy came to write his tag number and everything. And we laughed when the gamer came running out going "woah woah woah woah!"
Our room was on the 29th floor with a great view of the city.
On the flight home some chick behind us was fighting with her boyfriend. About a hundred miles from Tampa my ipod battery died so I started counting how many times she said "fuck". I tallied on a napkin and averaged about three point six times per sentence. Then I had fun imagining what that would technically sound like. "Well I don't give a fuck so you can go fuck yourself you dumb fu."
I slept on the car ride home.
As always, Kosmo was still awake to greet us when we came in the door.
Like the people who treat the homeless/insane/addicts... How to let them know that in order to build housing for these people you kinda have to have some idea as to how the process works.
He talked a lot about technical support and stuff.
Lots of people thanked him for coming and everything. I was bored outa my mind and totally lost.
We wandered through Chinatown for a while and went to the Reading Terminal Market (which is like taking Chinatown, whole foods and a mall and shoving them all into one big establishment)
We went to the art museum and in front of it there was a big celebration for the Israeli independence day and we joined in an effort to make the world's largest Hora. We were going for 3000 people but only half that showed up. It was still fun. We looked at the imported clothes and books and photos that were on sale in tents by the street. And there was lots of jewelry and mezzuzahs and cool stuff.
We had cheesesteaks at Pat's and they were hella good.
Then I felt sick for the next two hours
But they were still hella good.
I was mad that the hotel allowed pets cause Kosmo wasn't there with us. He would have loved the city.. The parks and stuff and I'm sure the city would have loved him. We didn't see any other goldens while we were there, Kosmic needs to travel with us.
One night we were eating tapas on South Street and a guy parked illegally by where we were sitting and ran into the blockbuster for a game. We were talking about how long it would take for him to get a ticket when the guy came to write his tag number and everything. And we laughed when the gamer came running out going "woah woah woah woah!"
Our room was on the 29th floor with a great view of the city.
On the flight home some chick behind us was fighting with her boyfriend. About a hundred miles from Tampa my ipod battery died so I started counting how many times she said "fuck". I tallied on a napkin and averaged about three point six times per sentence. Then I had fun imagining what that would technically sound like. "Well I don't give a fuck so you can go fuck yourself you dumb fu."
I slept on the car ride home.
As always, Kosmo was still awake to greet us when we came in the door.
posted by Mabreg at 12:42 PM
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