Hey Father John, How are ya??? (7)

So thats pretty much whats been happening here. A few letters made it to the trash can before I could transpose their contents, however the general jist is up.

On top of the exciting priest news, I got completely trashed all day yesterday at the pool, followed by going to the club at 11 and being too drunk to even order a new drink. It continued late into the night when I was telling some LAer to go fuck himself and that I would kill him in a fight.

Today's developments (since I know you all are dying for more):

• Stumble to pool at 1pm to recover from the most insane hangover since New Years 87'.
• Girls pick the chairs immediately next to my pal, Father John, who spends the majority of his day tanning himself until his brown skin is so wrinkled it could provide warmth for a family of black bears. Allow me to explain his attire -- laying pretty spread eagle with a tight blue speedo on. He is a big fan of the one leg bent, other straight, and often wears a shade over his eyes.
• Completely avoid him at all costs, including but not limited to never actually looking at him, and when he sits up or removes the shade, appear to be sleeping.
• 2pm - Finally, he leaves the pool, but not before stopping to speak with the innocent Brazilians who have no clue what he has in store for them.
• 2:02pm - Father John steps onto balcony (which overlooks pool). Note: I have NEVER seen him use his balcony before.
• 2:42pm - Father John is still standing on his balcony, looking down at the pool.
• 2:44pm - Father John walks into his apartment but leaves the door open -- the sun is gone, perfect time for us to make a break for it. Why were we making a break for it? Because if he saw us leave the pool, he would conveniently bump into us in the lobby and say something like "Ohhh wow. Imagine the odds of seeing you here." You get my point.
• 6pm - Ryan and I go to Subway without any sightings -- good news.
• 6:54pm - Ryan and I return to apartment and the elevator door opens. Who's standing in the elevator? You guessed it. The elevator had just returned to the bottom floor from his floor, so you'd guess he would step off and go about his business, right? Ha. I wish. He never leaves the elevator, and in fact rides with us back up to our floor. Wow. Here's how it went:

• Fr.: Hey guys! How are ya?

  R: Good, really busy.

  Fr. to me: Did you go to the beach today?

  Me: No, shark attack so the beaches were closed.

  Fr.: Oh, I meant the pool! I think I saw you down there today!

  Me: Oh, yeah I was down there.

  (Doors opening on our floor)

  Me: Have a good one!

  R: See you later!

  Fr.: OHH!! Did I just ride back up here? I meant to get off in the lobby!
  I'm going to the pool. Take care guys

Really not much you can say after all that. Someone dare me to take a picture of him in his speedo tomorrow. I'm gonna get trashed at the pool-fest, a dare and its a done deal.