Tag Archives: Friends

The pork!

The pork!, orig­i­nal­ly uploaded by Black­mail Is My Life.

Our friend Thad lov­ing­ly cared for this pork as it smoked for six­teen hours (pic­tured here at hour twelve.) This includ­ed mon­i­tor­ing it and adding water to the wood chips overnight. He used three ther­mome­ters each of which had a cor­re­spond­ing transpon­der. He kept both transpon­ders next to his head on his air mat­tress while he slept, wak­ing up repeat­ed­ly through­out the night to tend to the meat.

How did it taste? Let me give you an idea: there were twen­ty pounds of meat and only twelve guys at the cab­in. We start­ed eat­ing Sat­ur­day night and it was all but gone Sun­day morning.

I did men­tion that it was a great week­end, right?

Parklife!

Park­life!, orig­i­nal­ly uploaded by Black­mail Is My Life.

This week­end was an absolute blast. I’m not much for get­ting out in nature–a youth spent on a farm can do that to a body–but the per­fect weath­er and good com­pa­ny went a long way to mak­ing Mikey’s bach­e­lor par­ty a great success.

Among the high­lights: the crisp, fall-like weath­er; a late night pad­dle in the canoe beneath a canopy of stars; a beau­ti­ful day at the races; pork lov­ing­ly smoked for six­teen hours; script­ing prank calls to a strip club; and, last­ly, get­ting togeth­er with a bunch of friends to eat, drink and have a great time.

I’ve had a pretty great week.

August is with­out ques­tion our busiest month. We had din­ner at Le Vir­tu with our friends Bri­an and Adela Mon­day night. We cel­e­brat­ed our third anniver­sary at the Water­works Restau­rant on Tues­day. Yes­ter­day was my thir­ty-first birth­day, which we enjoyed with a brief stop at the South Philly Tap Room fol­lowed by a Phillies win. Tonight we went on a grilling ram­page as we attempt­ed to emp­ty our fridge and freez­er to make room for all the good­ies Helen’s prepar­ing for a friend’s upcom­ing wed­ding show­er. Tomor­row night I leave for a bach­e­lor par­ty in the Poconos, com­plete with a day at the races. August is only beginning.

(I’ll write about the restau­rants lat­er. I’d nev­er been to any of them. Each had its charm, but there were some delight­ful flaws just to keep it interesting.)