This week, I was confronted with a number of fairly crazy events. For the sake of time and lack of actually interesting events I term "crazy", let's define "number" as "two."

First, the land of perpetual drought (Albuquerque!) got pummelled four days in a row by insane amounts of rain. The days would start out stunningly beautiful, with bright blue skies and sunshine, and a few puffy white clouds dotting the skyscape. Come the afternoon, dark clouds would suddenly blow in, and without warning, just opened up and dumped on the city. And not any old average downpour either. Nuh uh. Let's just say that I got stuck in it after work on Tuesday, and when I had to go the twenty feet or so from the building to the car, I was soaked from head to toe after only taking about three steps. See? Crazy.

A part of me thinks this storm was the same storm every day, despite the fact that it blew over each day. Why? Simple. Sunday: Clouds blow in from the north and head south. Monday: Clouds blow in from the south and head north. For you statisticians out there, that's the only sample I have. I spent the next two days avoiding the driving rain as much as possible, so I wasn't able to test my theory again. But if it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure I'm at least partly right on some statistical level.

Second, and finally, the even more crazy event. I went to a rock concert Thursday night. I'm a big fan of music, especially the rock and roll variety. I went to see Scary Kids Scaring Kids, who I'd seen once before and were so amazing I had to go see them again. Remember this music video? That's Scary Kids. And they rocked once again.

My friend and I decided to chill in the bar, where it's easier to sit back and enjoy the show, because, generally, you don't have to worry about getting punched or jumped by anyone in the crowd or mosh pit. Plus, the average age of those in attendance was like 15, so yeah, not exactly my crowd.

Of course, the bar does have its drawbacks. Mainly in the form of crazy drunk people.

Cut to: Phil and friend, standing and chatting between bands.
Enter crazy drunk girl, who comes right up to Phil and leans into him.

Crazy Drunk Girl:Hey! I like your suspenders.
Me:Um, thanks.
CDG: Hey! You should let me wear them! I really like them. They're cool.
Me: No, I think I'll keep them on thanks.
CDG: Oh come on! I want to wear them! I want to go mosh with them.
CDG: You're no fun! It's okay. You don't know me, but I can meet you at the front of the theater when the show's over. Come on! [CDG leans in really close, using all her drunk sexual energy to try to convince Phil to given in.]
Me: No. Now go away.*

There is a happy ending to this: I proved to be a total joykill to the crazy drunk bitch, and she finally left. Without my suspenders. A price I consider fair, especially because I had to put up with her flaunting her sweaty drunk self in my face. And on a side note, I think that answers the question of whether or not a gay guy can turn straight if the girl trying to jump him is drunk enough.

*This conversation has been edited slightly. It went on for quite a bit longer, but because I got so annoyed listening to it, I took the liberty of editing out all the repetition. Trust me, the version you read is far better than the real thing was.