Ouch, my chronology!

Three words for you oh faithful blog checkers:

Flock. Of. Seagulls.

Last friday night was a fateful evening of the 80's at B-3. The patry required 80's costumes and people came through in full form. I myself went for the Flock of Seagulls look. There was a micheal jackson-esq leather suit, ugly long pink shirts, shiny wind breakers and tracks suits. I felt as if there were not enough side pony-tails, and spent the evening trying to convince girls to put them in. It only work in two cases, but damn, was it ever worth it.
I don't even know what to say about the 80's party. Its a difficult thing to describe, it's hard to say when it started or when it wound down. At first there were my housemates and I, dressed in various 80's costumes. Them, there were a few more people. Then it was a party. What specific events happened? I've been thinking about this all weekend, and to tell you the truth, nothing really stands out. Usually, at a party, one or two things happen which makes the party a true success. The entire night, in this case, was the one thing. A portrait: Mike and I were drinking the 12 year old El Dorado, so our judgement was inhibited to a certain extent. I had the pleasure of DJing the 80's tunes for a while. Mike's cousin Kevin and I were accused of being homoerocitc because we were wearing almost matching blazers. Ryan's friend John and his girlfriend came, I talked/ danced with them. Pat had an intese mullet. Chui's shoes were two and a half sizes too small. There were 80's moves broken on the 'dance floor'. We went pavillion bouncing.
Perhaps that last one needs a bit of description: Our school, in its infinte need for more space and larger lecture halls, decided to erect a what is basically a gaint insulated tent on the science wing feild and use it as a lecture hall. The material that this 'building' is made out of is rather rubbery. Thus, you can bounce off of it. You'll see students throwing themselves at the walls on dark nights, wearily keeping an eye out for the University Police.
All in all, despite one or two disasters at the end of the night, it was a good evening, and good times were had by all. The only problem is, I can't get Mr. Roboto out of my head.