December 31st is the best day of the year.
(BRedit: That says "December 31st", it should have been October 31st. Ya know, Halloween? Only one person noticed.)
I like candy.
But, most of all, I like dressing up. My costume choice is never something I fear, instead I always choose a costume that will allow me to act the way that I want with no fear of any reprecussion. Hunter S. Thompson. It's the perfect costume for me. For, deep inside me somewhere, maybe in my left shoulder, lives the great HST. We are kindered spirits.
The night was not looking to promising at ten o'clock, with nothing in sight for the night. Damn you internal rhyming. Though, things started looking up when, after over an hour of pestering from me, my buddy ryan decided to accompany me on one of "my" adventures. We rented an easter bunny costume for him. Complete with a basket full of broken dreams (candy) and hope on a string (pink balloons). Now, we have a plan, and I had picked up some LSD, and he had some gel caps. A case of beer and a bottle of taquila were added as we began our night. We decided to eat only half the acid first. Which, I realize now is funny. And, I wish I'd spilled the other half on the sleeve of my red woolen shirt. So, we ate the acid, drank the taquila and some of the beer and headed to the "Double Deuce", which is packed every single tuesday for two dollar drinks.
I was a celebrity as soon as I walked in the door. For, when you consume as much liquor, MDMA, and LSD as I had, it's impossible not to act like the great HST. I was stumbling around, mumbling to strangers and I smashed a glass in the middle of the dance floor at one point. Intentionally. I only wish I'd had a bag of concrete mix. Next year. My first photo shoot happened about an hour after we arrived, she was dressed like a german beer girl...Yum. Then, I had to get out, vibrations were getting nasty and I'd gotten all the laughs out of this bar that I could have. So, we peaced.
The Overdrive International Nightclub was holding a halloween contest, as were most places but it's a busy place. Again, packed. Again, I'm an instant celebrity. We decided to eat the rest of the acid and another pill. I proposed to a shooter girl. She said no. I couldn't believe it, but my ego was running strong from the other women that I'd already had "contact" with earlier in the night. Then, something happened. I met the twin of someone back home. I became instantly infatuated and followed her outside for a smoke. We shared a couple quick kisses, then she peeked over my shoulder and started screaming at someone. Her ex. Fuck, I thought, what had I gotten myself into? Fortunately, the easter bunny is a super hero. And swooped in and saved me. We simply walked, or rather; flailed away. After I'd befriended everyone in this bar and angered every boyfriend in the place, it was time to go.
I can't remember the name of the last bar that we went to. But I do remember one thing. Beats. Hard, dirty rank house. It was perfect. I met to shambhalites there, and we shared a moment of pure dance energy. What I mean by that is we were the only people dancing for like 2 hours. We're friends now. Children of the beat.
After the dancing blur, the bar closed. Understandably, my buddy Ryan decided to have a party at his house. We, along with some friends from each of the bars we visited arrived at his house, danced, blazed, chilled. Then. Then, something happened. Ryan's roommate flipped. Seriously lost her fucking mind. Told us her mom was outside with the landlord (it was 3 am, there was no one outside) and that it was her house, and she was calling the cops. It was disgusting, I've never seen anyone freak like that. Actually that's not true, though I erased that moment from my memory forever. You're like a brother to me Ace.
So, we left the crazy lady be. Which I was greatful for, because the place we went to was the most beautiful home I've ever been to. It was one hundred and eight years old, and I could feel the essence of the house the moment I walked in. It felt as though it was alive, and it was happy. And wanted me to be happy too. Beautiful twelve foot ceilings, with arching doorways and long hallways that led to hardwood floor laiden bedrooms/bathrooms. several loving cats were the perfect props for this home, and they were also pleased that I was there.
At ten-thirty, with people going to work, there I was. Flailing in the living room of this home with the DJ with his back to the traffic. People going to work. Ha. It was perfect.
Needless to say, work at three o'clock that same afternoon wasn't that much fun. Hope you liked my night.
(BRedit: That says "December 31st", it should have been October 31st. Ya know, Halloween? Only one person noticed.)
I like candy.
But, most of all, I like dressing up. My costume choice is never something I fear, instead I always choose a costume that will allow me to act the way that I want with no fear of any reprecussion. Hunter S. Thompson. It's the perfect costume for me. For, deep inside me somewhere, maybe in my left shoulder, lives the great HST. We are kindered spirits.
The night was not looking to promising at ten o'clock, with nothing in sight for the night. Damn you internal rhyming. Though, things started looking up when, after over an hour of pestering from me, my buddy ryan decided to accompany me on one of "my" adventures. We rented an easter bunny costume for him. Complete with a basket full of broken dreams (candy) and hope on a string (pink balloons). Now, we have a plan, and I had picked up some LSD, and he had some gel caps. A case of beer and a bottle of taquila were added as we began our night. We decided to eat only half the acid first. Which, I realize now is funny. And, I wish I'd spilled the other half on the sleeve of my red woolen shirt. So, we ate the acid, drank the taquila and some of the beer and headed to the "Double Deuce", which is packed every single tuesday for two dollar drinks.
I was a celebrity as soon as I walked in the door. For, when you consume as much liquor, MDMA, and LSD as I had, it's impossible not to act like the great HST. I was stumbling around, mumbling to strangers and I smashed a glass in the middle of the dance floor at one point. Intentionally. I only wish I'd had a bag of concrete mix. Next year. My first photo shoot happened about an hour after we arrived, she was dressed like a german beer girl...Yum. Then, I had to get out, vibrations were getting nasty and I'd gotten all the laughs out of this bar that I could have. So, we peaced.
The Overdrive International Nightclub was holding a halloween contest, as were most places but it's a busy place. Again, packed. Again, I'm an instant celebrity. We decided to eat the rest of the acid and another pill. I proposed to a shooter girl. She said no. I couldn't believe it, but my ego was running strong from the other women that I'd already had "contact" with earlier in the night. Then, something happened. I met the twin of someone back home. I became instantly infatuated and followed her outside for a smoke. We shared a couple quick kisses, then she peeked over my shoulder and started screaming at someone. Her ex. Fuck, I thought, what had I gotten myself into? Fortunately, the easter bunny is a super hero. And swooped in and saved me. We simply walked, or rather; flailed away. After I'd befriended everyone in this bar and angered every boyfriend in the place, it was time to go.
I can't remember the name of the last bar that we went to. But I do remember one thing. Beats. Hard, dirty rank house. It was perfect. I met to shambhalites there, and we shared a moment of pure dance energy. What I mean by that is we were the only people dancing for like 2 hours. We're friends now. Children of the beat.
After the dancing blur, the bar closed. Understandably, my buddy Ryan decided to have a party at his house. We, along with some friends from each of the bars we visited arrived at his house, danced, blazed, chilled. Then. Then, something happened. Ryan's roommate flipped. Seriously lost her fucking mind. Told us her mom was outside with the landlord (it was 3 am, there was no one outside) and that it was her house, and she was calling the cops. It was disgusting, I've never seen anyone freak like that. Actually that's not true, though I erased that moment from my memory forever. You're like a brother to me Ace.
So, we left the crazy lady be. Which I was greatful for, because the place we went to was the most beautiful home I've ever been to. It was one hundred and eight years old, and I could feel the essence of the house the moment I walked in. It felt as though it was alive, and it was happy. And wanted me to be happy too. Beautiful twelve foot ceilings, with arching doorways and long hallways that led to hardwood floor laiden bedrooms/bathrooms. several loving cats were the perfect props for this home, and they were also pleased that I was there.
At ten-thirty, with people going to work, there I was. Flailing in the living room of this home with the DJ with his back to the traffic. People going to work. Ha. It was perfect.
Needless to say, work at three o'clock that same afternoon wasn't that much fun. Hope you liked my night.