The night started off innocently enough, a young, mildly drunk Hunter S. Thompson skateboarding down 14 ave in the middle of the night with sunglasses on. Cigars with filters and mix for my superstore brand whiskey were on the agenda, then off to the warehouse to see mstrkrft.
This is what I woke up to:
The train wreck you see before you is what happens when two people decide to drink copius amounts of cheap liquor combined with a night of oddities and general craziness.
We hopped a cab to the Warehouse around ten-ish, only to find that the show was sold out, and though disapointed, there was stong drink to be consumed, so we called Colleen and agreed to meet her and her posse at Broken City. After asking unreliable homeless people and a man in a fox costume, we found our way there. Some pseudo transvestite band featuring a stand up bass was playing, and beer were $3. After several beer I had a couple of slings to work with the costume, and puffed away on cigars that may or may not have burned serval clueless patron's costumes. I mannaged somehow to steal $10 from an open tip jar at the bar, which was quickly processed into more booze. Other highlights include stealing a leprechaun's gold coins while he was peeing, later trying to give the fistfull of melted chocolate from my pocket to the door girl. Also seeing a large troupe dressed as Steve Zizou's crew, I interrogated several trying to find their leader. "Where's Steve?!" I would shout to these poor saps, never recieving a clear response. One finally did understand me and attempted to direct me, but I never did catch the bastard.
Following the band there was a burlesque show. The show was allright, I quickly grew to tired/drunk/sexually frustrated to be there, so we retired to the street to find appropriate means home. We did have the good fortune of witnessing a fight between a leprechaun, Alex from a clockwork Orange, and some bastard fuck in yellow tights whose costume I could not discerne. I did manage to steal that poor green bastard's cane, and it's shattered remnants are visible in the above photo.
After a long walk home involving fights between the two of us for the cane that were undoubtedly contrued as a rape by passing motorists, as well a brief nap in the bushes, drunk Chelsea and Matt had a (in retospect) funny tift that involved a lot of stuff falling/being thrown. The result being shards "of every possible type" being strewn around the floor; wood, glass, pottery, which has all since been clenaed up, but it made for an interessting enough semi-drunk walk to the bathroom in the morning.
Chelsea says she is done drinking for "at least a week" which may seem like a small concession, but if you compare it to the fact that I currently am sipping on a rye and ginger... well, I guess I make everybody look better.
This is what I woke up to:
The train wreck you see before you is what happens when two people decide to drink copius amounts of cheap liquor combined with a night of oddities and general craziness.
We hopped a cab to the Warehouse around ten-ish, only to find that the show was sold out, and though disapointed, there was stong drink to be consumed, so we called Colleen and agreed to meet her and her posse at Broken City. After asking unreliable homeless people and a man in a fox costume, we found our way there. Some pseudo transvestite band featuring a stand up bass was playing, and beer were $3. After several beer I had a couple of slings to work with the costume, and puffed away on cigars that may or may not have burned serval clueless patron's costumes. I mannaged somehow to steal $10 from an open tip jar at the bar, which was quickly processed into more booze. Other highlights include stealing a leprechaun's gold coins while he was peeing, later trying to give the fistfull of melted chocolate from my pocket to the door girl. Also seeing a large troupe dressed as Steve Zizou's crew, I interrogated several trying to find their leader. "Where's Steve?!" I would shout to these poor saps, never recieving a clear response. One finally did understand me and attempted to direct me, but I never did catch the bastard.
Following the band there was a burlesque show. The show was allright, I quickly grew to tired/drunk/sexually frustrated to be there, so we retired to the street to find appropriate means home. We did have the good fortune of witnessing a fight between a leprechaun, Alex from a clockwork Orange, and some bastard fuck in yellow tights whose costume I could not discerne. I did manage to steal that poor green bastard's cane, and it's shattered remnants are visible in the above photo.
After a long walk home involving fights between the two of us for the cane that were undoubtedly contrued as a rape by passing motorists, as well a brief nap in the bushes, drunk Chelsea and Matt had a (in retospect) funny tift that involved a lot of stuff falling/being thrown. The result being shards "of every possible type" being strewn around the floor; wood, glass, pottery, which has all since been clenaed up, but it made for an interessting enough semi-drunk walk to the bathroom in the morning.
Chelsea says she is done drinking for "at least a week" which may seem like a small concession, but if you compare it to the fact that I currently am sipping on a rye and ginger... well, I guess I make everybody look better.
2 Comments:
Cory, Jeff, and I chased the real-life Steve Zizou (CBC guy, right?) down the street after we all left Baba's; screaming about the Wolfpac and WWF Raw, etc. then we wolfpac'd him, than I asked if I could "touch him", to which he responded with an outstretched hand, and I took him into my bosom.
Your comment box gave me five spelling mistakes, thx skool...(edit: seven)
I love ur stories.
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