Gone, all gone.

So, I don't wanna get into details, but I will say that my weekend was more exiting than I thought it would be.  I was invited last minute to go eat dinner with the roomie's family; right after I had engorged myself just a few moments earlier.

We followed that up by going shooting, and naturally I end up forgetting a rather crucial bit of equipment (the friggin earplugs!).  So, we make the best of it, and just use some napkins, and continue unhindered.  That is, until after a few minutes, about a hundred yards northeast of us, a freaking brush fire decides to crash the party!  Holy crap!  Is there no end to the amount of fail here?

We head home, and when I sit down to unwind, thinking my day is over, I get a garbled and confusing call from 'The Curs·ed Woman'.  I don't wanna bore anyone with specifics, but I highly doubt I'll be calling upon her anytime in the near (or distant) future.  Jeez.  Now, I know what you're thinking.  You're saying, "Well that's just a bad weekend" or "Seems like a pretty bad story", but no, THIS IS MY LIFE.  Welcome to irony, population: 1.