Another night spent with the cohorts: the socially inclined, and intelligently numb.
I say this because I am the outsider; the subnormal as Charles Bukowski might say, if he were alive today. Tonight we met at Star Fucks, we had to wait for two of my friends to get off from their chosen method of slavery next door to the Nazi coffee chain. Some drugs, some liquor which we will surely get to in some roundabout way.
Mainly cheap wine: Boone's Farm: Strawberry or Watermelon or some other horrid little concoction for a buck and change. I tend to forget these things because boose is boose and I deny nothing, so we mixed it up. vodka, Popov, and little old Boone, tasted not too shabby, but it did the trick, and did it well. We lit up some freshly cut trees and took the red eye to hell.
Daniel had the car, Perdonna (We tend to call him donna, for shits and giggles) brought the cheap wine and I think Daniel had the vodka which Donna bought and he still owed him like some bucks, but that's a drama onto itself for a later day perhaps.
Anyways, in the distance, this crippled rolls up in his chair, complaining about how he just stroked it our, or had a stroke, whichever, he rolls up and tells Donna that he just had something in his car because it broke down or some shit, and he was getting out of the car to see what the problem was, and the fucker just past out, cold as the dead. so the guy goes on to say that this other guy came along with a wheel chair and just gives it to the half dead old guy saying that he needed it more and just left him with it. If i can speak honestly, sure, I can with you guys; This guy just demonstrated the biggest example of apathetic care, if that is even possible, being the oxymoron that it is? Donna goes ahead and calls 911 for the guy, and we kick rocks soon after the sirens break the night's silence.
Can you dig it?
California baby, only in Cali.
The fun has yet to start man, yet to fucking start.
Strokey was the begining of the night of senselss wandering and moral decay, as soon as we left the parking lot of SF, we hit the side streets, packed a bowl full of trees and launched into space before heading over to the clairemont colleges, which to those that are not in the "know" is an assortment of Scripts college (all girl baby, use to work there and by god do the lezzies streak in numbers), Mckena(spelling?), Pomona College and a few others. There was some costume party happening down there somewhere and it was our job, no, our duty as social deviants and big time party crashers to find this joint, hit it up, drink its beer, lay with its brazen women, hopefully very brazen, and get some...but we get there and end up standing in the parking lot, with like 10 heads, just drinking our dirty drinks, smoking cigarettes and doing things that everyone thinks is cool. A few girls come on by wearing costumes, and what they don't know is that there was never a costume party, it had all be a miscommunication by one of our other friends, or a drunken lapse of sense, either or, something far worse!
there we are, drunk, stoned and with women dressed like slutty sailors and airline stewardesses. fuckable, yes, highly fuckable, enough so to stick the bottle neck of dear old boone's in their boxes....Subnormal, can you dig it?
donna is drunk and trying to kick daniel in the nuts, (by the way im ditching the cap's its such a pain to push shift, dig it?) and he kept doing this dancing dodge that seem to be funny, the kind of drunk funny. Where you could see a dog get hit by a dump truck and still laugh, that kind of drunk funny where life at its gravest is the most humorous.
"Lets walk around, you know, explore." Donna tells me.
"but if we don't keep a eye on daniel he is apt to leave us stranded." I cry
We go exploring like infant's lips puckering out for momma's nipple.
We walk around and find some crazy frat party or demented cult happening, walk up to the glass doors and find some guy naked from the waste down, holding a cup of what is surely alcohol in front of his gadget. college--best time of your life they'd say. So we watch them a bit, donna daring me to go in and vice versa, but the naked man freaks me out and i walk away, with vodka/boone in hand, drinking drunk madly like a fanatical moonshiner. Well i lied, there was no fun really, the night ended with us getting some crazy french fries from a hole in the wall called alberto's and drving haphazardly through montclair on oure way back to our cages....talk about anti-climax or what......
I say this because I am the outsider; the subnormal as Charles Bukowski might say, if he were alive today. Tonight we met at Star Fucks, we had to wait for two of my friends to get off from their chosen method of slavery next door to the Nazi coffee chain. Some drugs, some liquor which we will surely get to in some roundabout way.
Mainly cheap wine: Boone's Farm: Strawberry or Watermelon or some other horrid little concoction for a buck and change. I tend to forget these things because boose is boose and I deny nothing, so we mixed it up. vodka, Popov, and little old Boone, tasted not too shabby, but it did the trick, and did it well. We lit up some freshly cut trees and took the red eye to hell.
Daniel had the car, Perdonna (We tend to call him donna, for shits and giggles) brought the cheap wine and I think Daniel had the vodka which Donna bought and he still owed him like some bucks, but that's a drama onto itself for a later day perhaps.
Anyways, in the distance, this crippled rolls up in his chair, complaining about how he just stroked it our, or had a stroke, whichever, he rolls up and tells Donna that he just had something in his car because it broke down or some shit, and he was getting out of the car to see what the problem was, and the fucker just past out, cold as the dead. so the guy goes on to say that this other guy came along with a wheel chair and just gives it to the half dead old guy saying that he needed it more and just left him with it. If i can speak honestly, sure, I can with you guys; This guy just demonstrated the biggest example of apathetic care, if that is even possible, being the oxymoron that it is? Donna goes ahead and calls 911 for the guy, and we kick rocks soon after the sirens break the night's silence.
Can you dig it?
California baby, only in Cali.
The fun has yet to start man, yet to fucking start.
Strokey was the begining of the night of senselss wandering and moral decay, as soon as we left the parking lot of SF, we hit the side streets, packed a bowl full of trees and launched into space before heading over to the clairemont colleges, which to those that are not in the "know" is an assortment of Scripts college (all girl baby, use to work there and by god do the lezzies streak in numbers), Mckena(spelling?), Pomona College and a few others. There was some costume party happening down there somewhere and it was our job, no, our duty as social deviants and big time party crashers to find this joint, hit it up, drink its beer, lay with its brazen women, hopefully very brazen, and get some...but we get there and end up standing in the parking lot, with like 10 heads, just drinking our dirty drinks, smoking cigarettes and doing things that everyone thinks is cool. A few girls come on by wearing costumes, and what they don't know is that there was never a costume party, it had all be a miscommunication by one of our other friends, or a drunken lapse of sense, either or, something far worse!
there we are, drunk, stoned and with women dressed like slutty sailors and airline stewardesses. fuckable, yes, highly fuckable, enough so to stick the bottle neck of dear old boone's in their boxes....Subnormal, can you dig it?
donna is drunk and trying to kick daniel in the nuts, (by the way im ditching the cap's its such a pain to push shift, dig it?) and he kept doing this dancing dodge that seem to be funny, the kind of drunk funny. Where you could see a dog get hit by a dump truck and still laugh, that kind of drunk funny where life at its gravest is the most humorous.
"Lets walk around, you know, explore." Donna tells me.
"but if we don't keep a eye on daniel he is apt to leave us stranded." I cry
We go exploring like infant's lips puckering out for momma's nipple.
We walk around and find some crazy frat party or demented cult happening, walk up to the glass doors and find some guy naked from the waste down, holding a cup of what is surely alcohol in front of his gadget. college--best time of your life they'd say. So we watch them a bit, donna daring me to go in and vice versa, but the naked man freaks me out and i walk away, with vodka/boone in hand, drinking drunk madly like a fanatical moonshiner. Well i lied, there was no fun really, the night ended with us getting some crazy french fries from a hole in the wall called alberto's and drving haphazardly through montclair on oure way back to our cages....talk about anti-climax or what......
1 comment:
Yes... anticlimactic indeed. And no beer to speak of.
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