Fwa ha!
I went to Ann Arbor to visit Maria yesterday. It was fun. Her appartment sucks.
Anyway, got trashed, I think that I called someone but I'm not sure, so if you got an incoherent voice-mail message from me last night, I apologize... then again, you might have been on the phone and I ignored you. Or maybe we had a deep, meaningful conversation that now escapes me. Whatever.
Once we were all drunk off our asses, we went out looking for the nearest gay bar. Luckily, sensing the homo-ness that Maria embodies, there was a gay rave in the barn next door. Those cows were totally underaged, but that didn't stop them flirting with us. After accepting a kamikaze from Anderson Cooper, I popped off to the roof to buysome top quality ecstacy from the local vendor. It costs a little more, but I like helping out the small businessmen.
Once I took that hit I was freaking flying man. I danced for hours, until a few blisters and a box of cheap wine later I had a nice, soft landing. Sudenly, there was an explosion in the Vault of Midnight! Tank Girl rode through the wreckage leaving a trail of flames, while fighter jets flew in containment patterns above her. Knowing that I had to do something to help, I grabbed the nearest downed powerline and bit deep into the sinewy rubber. Channeling the electricity through both arms, I flung bolt after bolt into the sky, downing the jets and allowing Puck to fly in for back up. The ground troops had been sent in by this time, and I was out of juice. Luckily the explosions had left a fine silt of sand over the scene, wich I took control of and begin artfully ninja-ing my way through the troops, slitting throats and crushing skulls silently.
After all of this, as the sun came up behind the American Flag standig proudly in silhouette with it's defenders, I returned to Maria's crappy apartment to find Steve and Carrie passed out together on the couch. All that work, and I come home to breeders.
Ew.
Anyway, got trashed, I think that I called someone but I'm not sure, so if you got an incoherent voice-mail message from me last night, I apologize... then again, you might have been on the phone and I ignored you. Or maybe we had a deep, meaningful conversation that now escapes me. Whatever.
Once we were all drunk off our asses, we went out looking for the nearest gay bar. Luckily, sensing the homo-ness that Maria embodies, there was a gay rave in the barn next door. Those cows were totally underaged, but that didn't stop them flirting with us. After accepting a kamikaze from Anderson Cooper, I popped off to the roof to buysome top quality ecstacy from the local vendor. It costs a little more, but I like helping out the small businessmen.
Once I took that hit I was freaking flying man. I danced for hours, until a few blisters and a box of cheap wine later I had a nice, soft landing. Sudenly, there was an explosion in the Vault of Midnight! Tank Girl rode through the wreckage leaving a trail of flames, while fighter jets flew in containment patterns above her. Knowing that I had to do something to help, I grabbed the nearest downed powerline and bit deep into the sinewy rubber. Channeling the electricity through both arms, I flung bolt after bolt into the sky, downing the jets and allowing Puck to fly in for back up. The ground troops had been sent in by this time, and I was out of juice. Luckily the explosions had left a fine silt of sand over the scene, wich I took control of and begin artfully ninja-ing my way through the troops, slitting throats and crushing skulls silently.
After all of this, as the sun came up behind the American Flag standig proudly in silhouette with it's defenders, I returned to Maria's crappy apartment to find Steve and Carrie passed out together on the couch. All that work, and I come home to breeders.
Ew.