titty-giblets
I can't get the word titty-giblets out of my head. This kind of ridiculous shit floats around my head all the time.
Where are we at here?
As for levels of delirium and depravity, this week has been one of the best in awhile. Included but not limited to, as Lee would summarize it, "Beer, drugs, naked chicks, Chicken Bowl, titties everywhere, going to bed at 9 am".
Our tale begins last Thursday with a trip to the delightfully squalid Antonios where I tried to get a lap dance and instead got a job application. I don't know if the stripper was too coked out to focus on what was happening, but instead of proceeding normally she made me get up and dance for her, insisted I work there, had me fill out an app, (thankfully) declined to charge me for the lap dance I didn't really get, and disappeared. I wanted to make out with her, and Lee gave me 15 bucks in an effort to convince me to ask her. I told him I lack his confidence and that I didn't need to get us kicked out anyway.
They introduced me to the 24 hour Chicken Bowl where you can get teriyaki rice bowls AND doughnuts 24/7. I didn't know such a heaven existed on earth. We spent the rest of the night drinking beer and codeine syrup and chainsmoking on the front porch, talking about god knows what until the sun came up.
At that time I milled around long enough for the effects of my synthetic-opiates-'n-alcohol cocktail to fade and headed to the college to do Relay for Life set up. As my dad was in charge of the skimpily staffed relay logistics team, I was volunteered by default to work for 3 days in the sun. Logistics takes care of all the problems, heavy lifting, and crap jobs no one else wants to do like controlling traffic/parking, port-a-potties, refrigeration, trashes, lighting, setting up all the canopies/stages/chairs, tearing aforementioned shit down afterward, etc.
From Thursday to Sunday I got maybe 6 hours sleep. By the time cleanup was finished on Sunday, I was completely filty and sunburnt and too tired to care. Best of all, at 9am Monday morning I had my first psych test (Which I got a 95 on cause I'm a G like that).
Last night started out normal enough with bowling, but of course it's only a matter of time before things turn weird. Recollections are spotty, but I had some kind of wrestling scuffle with Kyle who kept trying to sneak up on me and pick my nose. I was irritated cause he was totally stronger than me and wouldn't let me win. And then there was some guy with an acoustic guitar who I kept calling "Bard" in a demeaning tone. I'm not sure if it came off rude, but I was entertaining myself. There was music listening, moldy peaches singing, streetfighter playing going on. The nice thing about Lee & Roland & friends is that their festivities don't end at like 3 or 4am like most peoples. They keep it up till the sun rises, and I admire that kind of tenacity. More people need to party with that kind of fervor.
Jeff just walked in the room and mused, "If Bon Jovi plays a show in Japan, would they call him 'John Bon Jovi San'?" Say it out loud, you'll laugh.
Where are we at here?
As for levels of delirium and depravity, this week has been one of the best in awhile. Included but not limited to, as Lee would summarize it, "Beer, drugs, naked chicks, Chicken Bowl, titties everywhere, going to bed at 9 am".
Our tale begins last Thursday with a trip to the delightfully squalid Antonios where I tried to get a lap dance and instead got a job application. I don't know if the stripper was too coked out to focus on what was happening, but instead of proceeding normally she made me get up and dance for her, insisted I work there, had me fill out an app, (thankfully) declined to charge me for the lap dance I didn't really get, and disappeared. I wanted to make out with her, and Lee gave me 15 bucks in an effort to convince me to ask her. I told him I lack his confidence and that I didn't need to get us kicked out anyway.
They introduced me to the 24 hour Chicken Bowl where you can get teriyaki rice bowls AND doughnuts 24/7. I didn't know such a heaven existed on earth. We spent the rest of the night drinking beer and codeine syrup and chainsmoking on the front porch, talking about god knows what until the sun came up.
At that time I milled around long enough for the effects of my synthetic-opiates-'n-alcohol cocktail to fade and headed to the college to do Relay for Life set up. As my dad was in charge of the skimpily staffed relay logistics team, I was volunteered by default to work for 3 days in the sun. Logistics takes care of all the problems, heavy lifting, and crap jobs no one else wants to do like controlling traffic/parking, port-a-potties, refrigeration, trashes, lighting, setting up all the canopies/stages/chairs, tearing aforementioned shit down afterward, etc.
From Thursday to Sunday I got maybe 6 hours sleep. By the time cleanup was finished on Sunday, I was completely filty and sunburnt and too tired to care. Best of all, at 9am Monday morning I had my first psych test (Which I got a 95 on cause I'm a G like that).
Last night started out normal enough with bowling, but of course it's only a matter of time before things turn weird. Recollections are spotty, but I had some kind of wrestling scuffle with Kyle who kept trying to sneak up on me and pick my nose. I was irritated cause he was totally stronger than me and wouldn't let me win. And then there was some guy with an acoustic guitar who I kept calling "Bard" in a demeaning tone. I'm not sure if it came off rude, but I was entertaining myself. There was music listening, moldy peaches singing, streetfighter playing going on. The nice thing about Lee & Roland & friends is that their festivities don't end at like 3 or 4am like most peoples. They keep it up till the sun rises, and I admire that kind of tenacity. More people need to party with that kind of fervor.
Jeff just walked in the room and mused, "If Bon Jovi plays a show in Japan, would they call him 'John Bon Jovi San'?" Say it out loud, you'll laugh.