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April 09, 2006
Rocky Mountain Now
5,280: That's me.
Ah geez. The unpacking was a breeze. A breeze!
Yep.
OK. Well. After learning a few valuable lessons in Brooklyn (1."When they're moving the couch - make self SCARCE" 2. "Buy more booze"), I enlisted the Denver troupes - Adam, Andrea, Beth, Colin (aka the people who take up the first screen of my cell phonebook), Eric, Jake and my loyal compadre, Marie - bright and early on a Saturday morning to help unload the goods.
And the lumber.
Times? Awesome.
Trust me. We laughed. We cried. We engaged in some inappropriate touching.
The memories could fill a hope chest.
Yeah, yeah, I know - for some weird reason, every pizza place in Denver was unavailable to take orders and I had to feed my staff with DOMINOS (super. gross. don't. be. fooled.), and yeah - though the pictures are heavy on the CC alum and fail to represent four of the *excellent* helpers that rocked that move like no one's bidness, my appreciation for all of them has no bounds.
I can't express it enough.
Well, I could.
But I'm easily distracted.
Nevertheless - pictures after the jump, as they say.
And by they? I mean the Pointer Sisters.
Feel the heat.
[Musical Cue: Insert "Truckin'" by the Grateful Dead.]
[OPTIONAL: Insert icepick in eardrum.]
That bookcase ain't gonna move itself lady!
"Here, Eric. Here is where I envision the sex swing. Right in front of the window."
Sinkful of trouble.
"Sunshine on my fridgerator makes me happpppyyyy..."
Rub a dub dub.
How inviting.
Still slacking.
Two timezones later, the slab of marble finally finds its home. As does the movie star trash bin.
Unrolling a fatty.
Words fail to illuminate the pleasures of Jake.
Mile hi-larious.
Not nearly as blurry in real life.
Posted by Bree at April 9, 2006 11:29 AM