Sunday, March 7


There’s something about being in a band. You suddenly realize that you’re in a band that doesn’t totally suck and you think – shit dude I’m in a band! Your band may not actually be all that good. In fact, your band may consist mainly of people who can’t even play their instruments very well (not that I’d know anything about THAT). Still, you decide you’re cool and you start to act differently. I remember when my band mates in Perth hit that point. One memorable incident around that time involved a cask of goon, a stranger’s yacht, Patrick’s butterfly knife … well I’ll just leave it at that, I have admission to the NY bar to consider.

Anyway, I think the Fourelles may have hit the “shit dude I’m in a band” tipping point. I offer as exhibit A an e-mail I received yesterday from a fellow band member who will remain nameless (the e-mail has been slightly edited to keep this blog family friendly):

Oy. My friends, I am writing to apologize for my behavior last night. I don’t remember everything perfectly, but what my faulty memory has kept doesn’t look good. A few points of clarification:

1) That glass slipped out of my hand, I really only meant to throw the ice harmlessly over my shoulder. I hope no one was hurt. I hope they let me back into Rudy’s some day.

2) The cucumber at happy hour did not slip out of my hand; I intentionally threw it at the wall.

I have a few blank spots that I’m curious about:

1) How many scotches did I have?

2) What time did we leave and did we all leave at the same time? Did I say goodbye or just wander off?

3) What happened to my coat?

[the remainder of this list has been redacted]

In case you were curious, things did not improve when I got home. Apparently, I spent some time lying on the bathroom floor. I “hung out” with Zac by lying on his floor while he did some work, although I distinctly remember him telling me that if I’m going to “hang out” while he works I’m not allowed to “sing” at the top of my “lungs”.

The only good thing to come out of last night is that I was in bed at a very reasonable hour, 12 am.

That was certainly the most I’ve ever drank in one sitting and I hope it won’t reflect poorly on me for my clerkship applications.

sincerest apologies,


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