greetings and salutations, redguard!

Hello!
I'm writing this largely because my environment has taken a relatively unexpected turn for the nostalgic. I don't mean to say that my house and home is being reminded of it's past, that wouldn't make sense. What I mean to say is that my surroundings are coming to resemble certain surroundings I have lived in before. The subtle way pizza crust becomes brittle and dehydrated after several days of intermingling with the clean, open air. The sink that slowly but steadily fills itself with dirty dishes and even looking at it dissuades one from ameliorating the situation. The backyard table, covered in empty beer bottles, ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts, surrounded by chairs that seem to drop like flies as the legs are broken or are thrown at people. What does this all mean? It doesn't seem to make sense. Most junkies and freaks come into violent conflict with their physical environments, but would that explain all these half-eaten oranges?
Where is this one going, you ask? Is he going to somehow equate his home, abandoned by vacationing parents, to the Meadows? Is the mess and the booze some sort of expression of longing for kinship? Some sort of metaphysical path that one must walk to soar with dragons? Has he been reading too much Thompson? Well the answer to all of these questions is an emphatic three.
OK shut up. This past weekend was awesome! It was so good to see brim-bram, mickey thomas, and dr. ah-gull! Rush was sweet, Saratoga was jumpin', and there's nothing quite like stealing food from a camp for challenged individuals. I believe it was Theodore Roosevelt who once said, whilst standing atop a pile of seagull skulls, that a man who is not a man, cannot ever be a man. Medical science may deflate the lesser points of his wise words, but the meaning is clear, and it resonates with a value so positively translucent that extra-terrestrials must surely be receiving it in some mental way and right now at this very moment are scratching their heads, or wherever they keep their kidneys, and staring off, perplexed, never to find the boggle set they lost under the couch!
HAPPY FREEDOM DAY!!!! oh fuck its the fifth.