You call that a storm?

Today was The Day.
I told everyone I know (at least those who live within a 50 km radius...) that whatever plans they had could be forgotten, because I was hosting a BBQ frenzy at my house tonight. So of course, being single and all, I kinda forgot that people actually have something else to do besides waiting for me to ask them over for supper... so I got turned down by most. But a few very considerate friends agreed to bless me with their presence, and so I went to the nearest meat pick-up facility, happy as a gecko who just got his recently severed tail sewn back on.
But as I emerged from this temple of Meat, a drop of some strange substance that vaguely felt like beer, but much weaker, much lighter, fell on my scalp. I guess a trendy way to call that stuff would be "water" (avec le foulard d'un bord pis le toupet de l'autre...) ... Can you believe that some people actually ingest it? Really! I'm not horsing around! And there I was thinking that the japanese were really f... messed up with their crazy game shows... But let's get back on track, shall we?
So that drop of "water" (that's what the government wants you to think it is, they don't want you to know it's actually a new secret weapon to exterminate the Irish...) made me remember that weather forecast I saw this morning... So for once they guessed it right. Bravo. Give MeteoMedia another Oscar, or somethin'.
Wow, do I have bitterness in me or what? Where did that come from? Seriously, I have no idea. And to be perfectly honest, I don't think I like it...
Once again I stumbled off topic... It was raining. And I mean hard. I was afraid for my poor little trees that just got out of hibernation! And what about that kick-ass BBQ-on-the-patio-with-girls-and-sunshine I promised? Well, let me tell you I was a bit concerned. But that's when the Aupy gene kicked in: No Son of My Dad will let wimpy rain ruin a perfectly good occasion to put the heat on the meat! And that's when it stopped raining... My friends showed up almost on time, the food was awesome, and the grass on my lawn is greener than my neighbor's.
Wow, talk about an Hollywood ending! It's almost like the plot for Shrek, without the talking Donkey, the bitch... I mean bride-to-be, and you know, pretty much everyhing else....
Did I lose you there? No? Damn, 'cause I'm lost... Would you happen to have a map to my Sanity?
Picture this: I'm listening to Infected Mushroom right now, I'm wearing a Guinness T-Shirt, and I'm drinking Grand Marnier Cuvée Louis-Alexandre. And the Thai dragon on my left shoulder is smiling at me in a strange, perveted way (I think he has a crush on me, but don't tell him I said that, he'll turn red, and for some reason my skin can't handle red ink that well...)
I wish I could've helped you figure out your place in the Universe today, but I can't even figure out where I'm parked right now, even though I'm home and I have a private parking...
I'll work on that for the next few hours, and I'll come back to you with the answer to the oldest question of them all: Dude, where's my car?

So until then,

Tata