OPERATION: DONUT DROP!
here's all you need for a successfull mission: 3 assholes! myself, l, and b.
roommates.
so, there we are, in a local (what this place calls a mall) area with a few stores
and a coffee place, waiting for someone to meet us. the stores are all closing up, and
the coffee place is preparing for the same. with little else to do, the 3 of us
watched the coffee girl tidy up, turn things off and tie up the garbage, which she
then set in front of the store to be picked up by the (again, i don't wish to call it
a mall...)'s sanitation engineer who would later come around to collect from all the
establishment of this (seriously, it's a real shithole, and full of genetic blunders!).
anywho, we sat there and made fun of her for a while (assholes) until we noticed
that she had opened up a new garbage bag which she dumped all the leftover donuts in.
this, we had not considered. we had always assumed they were donated to the soup kitchen
or something. nope. they were tossed in the garbage. she set the new bag, all donuts,
right beside the garbage. we wondered, and i still do, why a new bag if they are to
be tossed in the garbage anyway? we still have no idea.
we then watched the santitation engineer pick up both bags and toss them in his rolly-bin
and add more from the place next to the coffee place. we did nothing but theorize.
whoever it was met us and we left. more theories. they led to nowhere. it still makes
no sense to me.
a few days later, we had run out of food. we exhausted every effort we could think of
to procure some food or lendings to help buy food while we waited out our own monies.
this is not a good circumstance at all. we recalled the coffee place new bag donut un-garbage.
a plan was born!
it had very few parameters, but we decided that it would be no fun to just walk in and wait
for the donuts to be bagged and walk out with them. nope. no dice! if we were going to pull off
this heist, it would have to be needlessly complicated! we went to a nearby dirt-volleyball
area and drew out our plan in the sand:
*3 assholes: sleeve, l, and b.
*all 3 of us assholes would enter the (awful place) seperately, at approximately 1 minute intervals, near closing time.
*l was to be first, as he needed to be furthest from the entrances/exits. he would head past
the coffee place and to the far corner to where the elevator was located. he would open the
elevator door and press the 2nd floor button. he would not ride, merely stand there holding
the elevator door open. waiting.
*sleeve would come in next and sit near the fountain, close to the coffee place, with good
view, appearing as though waiting to meet up with someone.
* next would come b. he would stand near one of the exits below the library (which was above on
the second floor), and appear to be using the payphone.
* next, we wait.
*when the coffee lady finished locking up, before the sanitation engineer showed up with his
collecting rolly-bin, sleeve would make his move.
*sleeve would then walk over passively and pick up the donut un-garbage, and casually walk it
to the far corner to the elevator, where l was standing. sleeve would hand the bag to l, and
turn around immediately and walk back to the exit he came in at.
* l would take the bag into the elevator and ride to the 2nd floor, where he would then
walk along the wall beside the library and around to the bridgelike area where he could
see b at the payphones, next to a different exit.
* l would drop the donut bag to b, and head to yet a different exit.
* b, of course would catch the bag, hang up the payphone reciever and walk the bag out the
exit he was next to the whole time.
* we all reconvene at our safety checkpoint nearby and bring the loot home.
and that is what we did. the whole plan went off without a hitch. we were sick of
donuts after the first few days, but we did not go hungry.
-Sleeve-
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
I am a hate-fucking whore!... but drunk!
okay, so we've all done things we're not proud of. i am no exception.
i have done some stupid things. let me tell you of one stupid thing i
have done. and she was stupid.
back story: a friend of mine dated this girl that none of us liked. at first
it was becuase she was stupid. sorry, but stupid people are fucking annoying!
the more we got to know her, the more we disliked her. not just the stupid thing,
but she also had a problem with drugs and alcohol. while i admit to being a
lush-puppie, she was still beyond this. always waaaaaaaay too drunk and completely
out of control. there is rarely a time when this girl didn't have to be baby-sat.
aside from that, she was also prone to trying to makeout with us. yeah, her boyfriend's
best friends! not cool! i did not like this girl at all. we expressed this with our
friend, and like we all do when our friends warn us about a girl, he continued dating
her.
she tried to make out with not only me several times, but with a few other of our
friends and this was a trend with her. it did not stop until one day, a little less
drunk than i'm used to seeing her, she confronted me about the snarky way in which
i always talk to her. she asked "do you hate me?...", to which i replied, rather quickly
i might add, "yes! i do! you're an irritating twat, and you try to fuck every guy in the
city, including your fucking boyfriend's best friends!!!" she looked like she was going to
cry, and didn't say a word. she turned and left me alone, and that was the way i preferred it.
occasionally i'd see her in the mall or at a party and she'd give me a dirty look, and i would
return it as fast as i could muster, but she left me alone for several years after my friend
finally dumped her for falling asleep fuck-tard-loaded with a lit cigarette and burning
a huge hole in his bed and almost the apartment down.
forward a bit:
some pals and i are enjoying a usual night of indulgences at my place before we head to the
pub, and guess who's at the frickin' bar... yeh, it's her. from here on in, i'm going to call
her "damage". so, we drinks fer a while without her annoyance. she and i had gotten quite
used to avoiding each other in public situations. until she hears that i've invited half
the bar (half the bar tonite is roughly 25-35 people)to my place for an after party.
this bothered her because she was the only one NOT INVITED! she tried to play it cool though:
damage: "uh, hey steve."
me: "..."
damage: "i hear you're having a party after the bar..."
me: "... so?!..."
damage: "are you going to invite me?"
me: "why would i do that?"
at that point, i turned around and walked away. yeah, it's mean, but i hated her.
anyway, you all know where this story is going, and yes, she did follow someone to my
place. she was sneaky about it, and i didn't spot her for over an hour into our afterness.
the crowd turned into roughly 10 or 15 when people started going home, and this gave me
less to worry about as far as making sure nothing went horribly wrong. apart from what i
got up to. it's my place. screw it! i decided i was going to confront her:
me: "...so... what the fuck are you doing here?..."
damage: "i'm sorry, i just really wanted to come too..."
me: "and you'll be leaving now?"
damage: "... do you hate me?"
me: "yup!"
damage: "i've hated you ever since you started being mean to me."
me: "uh huh."
damage: "why do you hate me so much?..."
me: "you're usually way to drunk to tolerate, and someone has to babysit you constantly,
you don't take no for an answer and you repeatedly cheated on (friend's name)!"
damage: "i know... ok, i can leave if you really want me to."
me: "good!"
she just stared at me for a moment, then out of nowhere, pounces in and tries to makeout with
my face! i kind of shoved her and said "what the hell are you doing?..."
she stared again, and then this conversation happens:
damage: "i've always thought you were sexy..."
me: "what?! fuck off!"
damage: "... can't you just pretend you don't hate me for one night, and we can fuck?!...
i won't tell anyone..."
me: (loaded and hadn't had any action in a few months)"whatever. go in that room, and
i'll get some beer!"
yeh, i'm an idiot, but there it is. as simple as a guarantee. i didn't have to play around.
i didn't have to wonder if things could lead to sex. i didn't have to try. i took it.
i designated a good friend of mine to take over as host of my (now his) party. my roommate
was away, and i sent damage into that room. i told my friend he could have my room, keep whoever he
wanted over, and i'd be "busy fucking, fucking drinking, and drinking and fucking" (my actual words). yeh, i'm charming!
so, here's where it gets funnier to me. i bring what's left from my case of beer, 5 or 6 maybe,
i'm not really sure, and a colt 45 looking big beer called bull (i think that's what it was called).
i open the tall fella and take a big swig, set it down on my roommate's nightstand, and get
right to business. i didn't even take off her clothes. well, her panties, but otherwise, all
on. i flipped her hippie skirt up, and went to town in my most self indulgent sexual romp ever.
and i mean ever. i normally care about pleasing my partner, but in her case, i didn't give
a shit!
i just acted like her cervix severly pissed my dick off, and he wanted to beat the hell out
of it!
so, after i finished, i went back to my tall fella, and lit a smoke. yes, people actually do that.
damage asks me for a cig and a beer, and feeling pleased with the sex, and my drunken state,
i decided i would be a little nice. i said "go for it, but the skirt comes off!".
we drank and smoked and after a couple trips to the bathroom, fucked again, this time with
her on top. i was getting sloppy, but it was still good, from what i remember.
i woke up to her sucking me dick. nothing wrong with that! great way to wake up! we fucked
again, and had a smoke. we didn't talk much. i check the state of my beer and cigs.
she drank most of the regular sized beer, presumably while i slept, and smoked at least
half of my cigarettes! no dice!
me: "you know, those beer and smokes cost me money!"
damage: "... i know, i'm sorry!"
me: "sorry doesn't put my beer in my mouth or give me nicotine!"
damage: "well, i can go buy you some more. i didn't mean to make you mad..."
me: "well, you did! when i said 'go for it', i didn't mean ALL OF IT! just leave
me the money!"
damage: "FINE! asshole!"
she gathered her shit, dug in her purse, and angrily threw $30 on the nightstand.
how fucking funny is that! so, basically i just fucked a girl i absolutely
hated, and made her pay me for it! i come cheap though. at only 10 bucks a pop, i
am pretty low class. of course, i was already low class!
-Sleeve-
i have done some stupid things. let me tell you of one stupid thing i
have done. and she was stupid.
back story: a friend of mine dated this girl that none of us liked. at first
it was becuase she was stupid. sorry, but stupid people are fucking annoying!
the more we got to know her, the more we disliked her. not just the stupid thing,
but she also had a problem with drugs and alcohol. while i admit to being a
lush-puppie, she was still beyond this. always waaaaaaaay too drunk and completely
out of control. there is rarely a time when this girl didn't have to be baby-sat.
aside from that, she was also prone to trying to makeout with us. yeah, her boyfriend's
best friends! not cool! i did not like this girl at all. we expressed this with our
friend, and like we all do when our friends warn us about a girl, he continued dating
her.
she tried to make out with not only me several times, but with a few other of our
friends and this was a trend with her. it did not stop until one day, a little less
drunk than i'm used to seeing her, she confronted me about the snarky way in which
i always talk to her. she asked "do you hate me?...", to which i replied, rather quickly
i might add, "yes! i do! you're an irritating twat, and you try to fuck every guy in the
city, including your fucking boyfriend's best friends!!!" she looked like she was going to
cry, and didn't say a word. she turned and left me alone, and that was the way i preferred it.
occasionally i'd see her in the mall or at a party and she'd give me a dirty look, and i would
return it as fast as i could muster, but she left me alone for several years after my friend
finally dumped her for falling asleep fuck-tard-loaded with a lit cigarette and burning
a huge hole in his bed and almost the apartment down.
forward a bit:
some pals and i are enjoying a usual night of indulgences at my place before we head to the
pub, and guess who's at the frickin' bar... yeh, it's her. from here on in, i'm going to call
her "damage". so, we drinks fer a while without her annoyance. she and i had gotten quite
used to avoiding each other in public situations. until she hears that i've invited half
the bar (half the bar tonite is roughly 25-35 people)to my place for an after party.
this bothered her because she was the only one NOT INVITED! she tried to play it cool though:
damage: "uh, hey steve."
me: "..."
damage: "i hear you're having a party after the bar..."
me: "... so?!..."
damage: "are you going to invite me?"
me: "why would i do that?"
at that point, i turned around and walked away. yeah, it's mean, but i hated her.
anyway, you all know where this story is going, and yes, she did follow someone to my
place. she was sneaky about it, and i didn't spot her for over an hour into our afterness.
the crowd turned into roughly 10 or 15 when people started going home, and this gave me
less to worry about as far as making sure nothing went horribly wrong. apart from what i
got up to. it's my place. screw it! i decided i was going to confront her:
me: "...so... what the fuck are you doing here?..."
damage: "i'm sorry, i just really wanted to come too..."
me: "and you'll be leaving now?"
damage: "... do you hate me?"
me: "yup!"
damage: "i've hated you ever since you started being mean to me."
me: "uh huh."
damage: "why do you hate me so much?..."
me: "you're usually way to drunk to tolerate, and someone has to babysit you constantly,
you don't take no for an answer and you repeatedly cheated on (friend's name)!"
damage: "i know... ok, i can leave if you really want me to."
me: "good!"
she just stared at me for a moment, then out of nowhere, pounces in and tries to makeout with
my face! i kind of shoved her and said "what the hell are you doing?..."
she stared again, and then this conversation happens:
damage: "i've always thought you were sexy..."
me: "what?! fuck off!"
damage: "... can't you just pretend you don't hate me for one night, and we can fuck?!...
i won't tell anyone..."
me: (loaded and hadn't had any action in a few months)"whatever. go in that room, and
i'll get some beer!"
yeh, i'm an idiot, but there it is. as simple as a guarantee. i didn't have to play around.
i didn't have to wonder if things could lead to sex. i didn't have to try. i took it.
i designated a good friend of mine to take over as host of my (now his) party. my roommate
was away, and i sent damage into that room. i told my friend he could have my room, keep whoever he
wanted over, and i'd be "busy fucking, fucking drinking, and drinking and fucking" (my actual words). yeh, i'm charming!
so, here's where it gets funnier to me. i bring what's left from my case of beer, 5 or 6 maybe,
i'm not really sure, and a colt 45 looking big beer called bull (i think that's what it was called).
i open the tall fella and take a big swig, set it down on my roommate's nightstand, and get
right to business. i didn't even take off her clothes. well, her panties, but otherwise, all
on. i flipped her hippie skirt up, and went to town in my most self indulgent sexual romp ever.
and i mean ever. i normally care about pleasing my partner, but in her case, i didn't give
a shit!
i just acted like her cervix severly pissed my dick off, and he wanted to beat the hell out
of it!
so, after i finished, i went back to my tall fella, and lit a smoke. yes, people actually do that.
damage asks me for a cig and a beer, and feeling pleased with the sex, and my drunken state,
i decided i would be a little nice. i said "go for it, but the skirt comes off!".
we drank and smoked and after a couple trips to the bathroom, fucked again, this time with
her on top. i was getting sloppy, but it was still good, from what i remember.
i woke up to her sucking me dick. nothing wrong with that! great way to wake up! we fucked
again, and had a smoke. we didn't talk much. i check the state of my beer and cigs.
she drank most of the regular sized beer, presumably while i slept, and smoked at least
half of my cigarettes! no dice!
me: "you know, those beer and smokes cost me money!"
damage: "... i know, i'm sorry!"
me: "sorry doesn't put my beer in my mouth or give me nicotine!"
damage: "well, i can go buy you some more. i didn't mean to make you mad..."
me: "well, you did! when i said 'go for it', i didn't mean ALL OF IT! just leave
me the money!"
damage: "FINE! asshole!"
she gathered her shit, dug in her purse, and angrily threw $30 on the nightstand.
how fucking funny is that! so, basically i just fucked a girl i absolutely
hated, and made her pay me for it! i come cheap though. at only 10 bucks a pop, i
am pretty low class. of course, i was already low class!
-Sleeve-
the jiffy that took our damage deposit...
oh, jiffy. i love you!
this is late but who cares. it's still funny. i was reminded
of this when the boyer posted a thread about popcorn on
the giraffecycle.com forum. i think it's worth sharing. like
popcorn. let's all get greasy:
one new years eve, i bought jiffy pop to go along with with
my beer, wine, coolers, and vodka. jiffy pop is fun! so much
fun, that a peice of the wire that holds the foil on yer jiffy
musta come loose. we didn't notice this until we decided to
pop the stuff. figuring it would be more fun to jiffy while drunk,
we set our phasers on booze....then, it's time for jiffy.
soon, we find out what the problem is... little flaming jiffy
is shooting from the foil and landing in random places, such
as the counter, the curtains, the kitchen table, my sweater,
floor, etc.
drunk, stupid, and laughing uncontrollably, i kept jiffying.
more and more fireballs shoot out onto stuff until one of my
roomates comes home to see where we're going for bar drinks
later, grabs the jiffy from my hand (to get it off the burner, as
I'M STILL SHAKING IT!), throws it
near the sink, then drops to the floor laughing at all the little
balls of fire charring our kitchen.
lost: 1 curtain, 1 sweater, 1 tablecloth, damage deposit
gained: scorch marks on the counter, table, floor
well, the sweater isn't actually lost, but it does have a noticeable
jiffy corn burn in the front where one got stuck to the fleece. i still wear it.
i could have stopped all of this burning easily, but i was way too busy laughing.
-Sleeve-
this is late but who cares. it's still funny. i was reminded
of this when the boyer posted a thread about popcorn on
the giraffecycle.com forum. i think it's worth sharing. like
popcorn. let's all get greasy:
one new years eve, i bought jiffy pop to go along with with
my beer, wine, coolers, and vodka. jiffy pop is fun! so much
fun, that a peice of the wire that holds the foil on yer jiffy
musta come loose. we didn't notice this until we decided to
pop the stuff. figuring it would be more fun to jiffy while drunk,
we set our phasers on booze....then, it's time for jiffy.
soon, we find out what the problem is... little flaming jiffy
is shooting from the foil and landing in random places, such
as the counter, the curtains, the kitchen table, my sweater,
floor, etc.
drunk, stupid, and laughing uncontrollably, i kept jiffying.
more and more fireballs shoot out onto stuff until one of my
roomates comes home to see where we're going for bar drinks
later, grabs the jiffy from my hand (to get it off the burner, as
I'M STILL SHAKING IT!), throws it
near the sink, then drops to the floor laughing at all the little
balls of fire charring our kitchen.
lost: 1 curtain, 1 sweater, 1 tablecloth, damage deposit
gained: scorch marks on the counter, table, floor
well, the sweater isn't actually lost, but it does have a noticeable
jiffy corn burn in the front where one got stuck to the fleece. i still wear it.
i could have stopped all of this burning easily, but i was way too busy laughing.
-Sleeve-
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Sorry, rolo... sort of.
Dear Rolo:
i'm sorry. i was an accomplis (how the frig do you spell that?!)in the call
that was made to you a while back, asking the question that everyone wants an answer
to, but never calls you to ask.
it was me, celebrating my birthday every tuesday that year with a pint of vodka and
a liter of chocolate milk, and my friend, also celebrating my birthday within the same
parameters, who made that call.
we very drunkenly decided that our lives would be better if we found some rolos!
we did. and we bought some. and we were right! they were delicious! there's nothing
wrong with a rolo!
i noticed, and remarked that rolo had an information hotline "for any questions...".
my friend: "i have a question for 'em!"
me: "it's toll free"
my friend: "well, let's find a payphone!..."
so, we stagger from the abandoned old general hospital that used to be our drinking grounds,
and find a payphone a couple blocks away. my friend makes the call. it seems that "toll free"
still costs you a quarter on a payphone. here's what i hear:
my friend: ".....ringing....man, this is some pretty good music!....ah, HI!.....uh huh....
...yeah!..so what's with them fuckin' Rolos anyway?!?....."
after a good laugh, we went on our way.
so, there you have it. i forgive you for so rudely hanging up on my friend, and
will continue to enjoy the chocolate and carmely goodness of your yummy candy.
no hard feelings.
-Sleeve-
i'm sorry. i was an accomplis (how the frig do you spell that?!)in the call
that was made to you a while back, asking the question that everyone wants an answer
to, but never calls you to ask.
it was me, celebrating my birthday every tuesday that year with a pint of vodka and
a liter of chocolate milk, and my friend, also celebrating my birthday within the same
parameters, who made that call.
we very drunkenly decided that our lives would be better if we found some rolos!
we did. and we bought some. and we were right! they were delicious! there's nothing
wrong with a rolo!
i noticed, and remarked that rolo had an information hotline "for any questions...".
my friend: "i have a question for 'em!"
me: "it's toll free"
my friend: "well, let's find a payphone!..."
so, we stagger from the abandoned old general hospital that used to be our drinking grounds,
and find a payphone a couple blocks away. my friend makes the call. it seems that "toll free"
still costs you a quarter on a payphone. here's what i hear:
my friend: ".....ringing....man, this is some pretty good music!....ah, HI!.....uh huh....
...yeah!..so what's with them fuckin' Rolos anyway?!?....."
after a good laugh, we went on our way.
so, there you have it. i forgive you for so rudely hanging up on my friend, and
will continue to enjoy the chocolate and carmely goodness of your yummy candy.
no hard feelings.
-Sleeve-
Pimp T/Curbside tour/GHETTO COUNT/mushrooms
Pimp T/Curbside tour/GHETTO COUNT
an old story, but a goodie. i lost this when my temp website went down.
two warnings before you start:
1. this is long, and funny! i posted this on forum i frequent whenever i could find internet access while on a short maritimes tour with pimp tea and associates. but long. pack a lunch!
2. in this one, i sometimes refer to myself as "collide" instead of steve. it's my stage name, and
this was a tour for my music.
well, it started before i even left...
during the pre-tour "wootness", i managed to come down with
strepthroat. great way to start a tour as a vocalist! to cure this, i borrowed
penicilin from beth so i wouldn't have to go to a doctor. (ghetto 1)
then it was off to charllotown, p.e.i. somewhere past scoudouc, we
point our eyes at a girl just off to the right...yes, she was,
in fact, playing 4-wheeler front lawn golf. (ghetto 2)
we later finally get across that long bridge and get to the best
damn skatepark you ever did see. yup. a couple sheets of plywood
leaned against a picnic table. the place was actually called
"crapaud skatepark". (ghetto 3)
then we found the venue (myrons), ate mozza sticks, drank beer and played
our show. then we head to a karaoke bar (velvet underground)to sing "bust a move" by young mc. i'm there right now. Pimp Tea and Scout did that song well by adding freestyles in between the verses. i'll be back to further the story later.
props to megs for inspiring the ghetto count.
oh, the boys are gettin' back up. later.
at the karaoke bar, we met 4 potatoes. these ladies was rippin' up
the dance floor. (ghetto 4)these were some hoochies.
scout found a plastic leg on the ground (about the size of a
4 year old's), so we attached it to the roof of the van.(ghetto 5)
it hasn't fallen off yet. after rockin' the karaoke, we head outside
with the notion of furthering the party. we kidnapped 5 girls and
some dude that was with one of 'em. (ghetto 6)"nah, we're safe.
we're just gonna take you to the beach and we're gonna party.
we pack up 3 cars and a motorcycle and head to...a bootlegger.
(ghetto 7)she was a sweet old lady in her mid forties. she sold
us 3 cases of beer and some vodka. we head to the beach. two of
us turn into a lean-to made of a blanket(ghetto 8). the rest
work on a fire. success!! all is well for a bit, except the
winds were nearing break-neck speed, so the tent kept blowing
away. solution? "let's tie it to the van!" (ghetto 9)
we later named the wind "hurricane juan". all is well, and the
party continues. one of the two art students,(the random guy)
is too lazy and drunk to go get a stick for meddling with the fire, so he uses his fingers
to push the embers around.......(ghetto 10). "JESUS, YOU MORON!!!."
so, he burns his fingers very badly. he had to be taken to
the hospital, so we lost half the party due to drives. 4 of the
girls and the art student are off. we clean up our mess on the beach
and put our fire out and attempt to sleep. "damn you hurricane juan!!!!!!!"
very loud and shaky tent. sleep. next day(today) will
come next net access.
DAY TWO: the sun was up when we finally passed out. hurricane juan
had let up a bit...alot. that's when we found the potato. yes, a
potato. it was lying on the beach. "who doesn't bring a raw potato
to the beach?" (ghetto 11) we notice just to the right of the tent
that this beach has a porta-potty. but it's on it's side. so, of
course, we have to have a photo with scout using it. (ghetto 12)
we wake up one of the girls we kidnapped who slept in the van
with pimp tea and head for dirtbag breakfast. we go to a place
that has five dollar whatever and have a seat...there are two
parties of 4 people eating stuff that looked ok and made us
hungrier...no service.......no staff.....huh?....."does anyone
work here?".......no one even told us it would be a couple minutes.
nothin'. we walk around the place a bit, look behind a counter, a
corner, and nothin. no staff. (ghetto 13)
so, naturally, we dicide that it might be a good idea to go
somewhere where they have employees. we go to "checkers" for the
dirtbag. AWESOME! the staff there was pleasant and very adament
in refilling our coffees every two minutes. WOOT!
we head to a skatepark so scout and rory can stretch their legs.
after that, it's time for scout to change his underwear....
IN THE PARK! (ghetto 14) he went behind a tree and we all
laughed at the fact he was doing this, which was only all
the more hightened in hilarity when he comes back stating
"AAAAWWWWW, MAN! I STEPPED IN DOG SHIT....IN MY BARE FEET!"
(ghetto 15) we start heading off to helltown. we contemplated
stopping at a farm to steal a potato, but we were workin' on
a schedule and didn't want to miss the ferry. goodbye p.e.i.
we'll miss ye. we get to ferry terminal and turn our heads to
the left to see a lobster restaurant. it has a giant lobster
on the top of it that states in very large letters,
"crabby's". (ghetto 16) the only really ghetto story from
the ferry was a sign (yes, ON the ferry) advertising the
ferry. it said "why not take the ferry?" (ghetto 17)
after the ferry we hit the highway again, and after a while
our heads turn left......"what the FUCK was THAT?!?!?!? turn
around! that was creepy as FUCK!" we pull up to a lawn full
of fake people made of trash and maniquin pieces...and, we
suspect, parts from victims. and they're moving!!! there's an
old guy sittin' and waitin' for people to show up so he can
turn on the music. this was interesting, but very creepy.
the only thing creepier than the fake people (yeah, we have
photos)was the real person. we suspect some of his wife
is stored in a toolshed out back. (no ghetto here, just
creepyness)
we stop at a wendy's and tim horton's for coffee, food
and a break from being in the van, and we all chow down.
scout adds a 'flurry' to his meal, and a cookie to his
flurry, and half of his coffe to his cookie and flurry.
(ghetto 18)
we hit dartmouth to a dj's house who was lettin' us crash
there after the show. we thought he wasn't home as he
wasn't answering his door or his phone...we go around back.
"cool. this place is stylin'" dude: "oh, hey guys. did you
knock? sorry, i didn't hear the door. i was just shavin'
my head on the deck." (ghetto 19)we drink the leftover
bootlegger beer and prepare for the show. the show opened
up with some local helltown dudes. they were good. we played
our show at the khyber and rip it up. the sound wasn't the
greatest and we didn't get paid, but the turnout was allright,
and we all had fun. my throat is getting far much worse tho.
after the show we head to stage 9 to see skratch bastid.
then, it's off to our perspective sleepin' spots. i went
to mike's (sj baby)place for the devil. we finish off the
quart of sambuca we shared at around 4 or five while watching 'basketcase'.
the elusive first of the series. i forgot to add a p.e.i.
ghetto to the story, so i'll take it out of it's
chronological order: we see a parking meter with a
piece of cardboard taped to it that states, and i quote
"metre does not work!" (ghetto 20) mike breaks a chair
(ghetto 21)and decides it's time for pasta...in which
he burns his thumb on the stove. (ghetto 22) then a
haunting image of that idiot art students horribly burned,
bubbling, blistered, melted plastic looking fingers from
the beach incident hit's the mind...sleep.
day 3 later....
Day 3, with a message to Pimp Tea, Rory Borealis, Scout and Mickey D:
the message: if i miss any ghettoness, add it in as a later number. we can
all forgive, i hope.
Day 3:
day 3 started with mike(kanga) breakin' another chair. he now has only one.(ghetto 23)
and then it was some coffe....no cream, no sugar...i normally use both. so does mike.(ghetto 24)
we catch up some, then it's off for some dirtbag breaky food. we hit a place called "ce si bon"
which we found amusing. in english, a resteraunt called "this is good" would probably not
do as well. the waitress was hot, and pleasant. breaky was good, and they kept our
coffee steady. (they could tell) mike eventually went to work, and i went back to the khybur
to meet the crew. now, it's off to antigonish, NS to set up our tents at evolve and sleep(yeah,
right) before leaving for sydney, only to come back.....yup. pretty much, uh, yeah.
before we can leave helltown, we must hit ckdu(halifax campus radio) to drop off play copies of our cd's. pimp tea,
mickey d, and myself head there while rory and scout go to the skatepark where they would
wait for us to come pick them up. we dropped off and shit and head back, stopping to
sit on the giant nuts of what looked like a grotesque penis with sputtering ghonasyphiherpeles...
gross. this statue was purposely donated to the university and for some reasone...accepted.
so, we figured "if theres ever been a time to stop and ponder your life, it's while sitting on
some balls....." back to the skate park. some 14 year old kid fell while attempting a trick, and broke
his arm badly. it was bent in the wrong direction (injury count up to 3). i shudder at the thought.
he was a tough kid though. he screamed "fuck" for a while, then calmed down (partially due
to shock, we think). scout walked him to the hospital. so after this, it's time for more highway. scout pulls out a box of delightfulness. the "dj-x". this box can do a lot of things. most important for 5 hip hop artists in a van, spit out beats. we each did some written stuff, then we start on with the freestyle. we do this for 2 or 3 hours, switching off, and stuff. we finally make it to evolve. the guys at every gate misdirected us as to where to go if we are performers for the festival, "just go that way and sharon (who we think was a dude) will show you where the artists are parked..." "yeah, just go back where you were a couple of times
and they'll show you where you need to be..." (ghetto 25) organized, they were not.
we decide "fuck it." and just park down by "the renegade stage". we put up our tent there
as well, and wander the grounds to get our bearings, see where all the stages are, and
see who's partying. there was very little musical anything going on, as no stages were open,
so we brought the dj-x and found......"NEW BRUNSWICK". awesome. a loud, drunken, familliar
voice shot out over anything else that was goin' on...."HEY, SHTEEEVE!! IT'S TONY AND
STEPPHAANNNNEE!! COME HAVES A SOME BEER WITH US!!!..." cool. we were at
home. well, we were at a shanty-town that represented our home in new brunswick.
(most of what is to come cannot be added to the ghetto count as this is an outdoor
music festival with camping involved. at evolve, the ghetto count can only be measured
by special ghetto things, and actions.) we join the new brunswick crew and drink, jabber,
and freestyle for hours. at one point, tony, mid sentence, says "yeah, you guys ar....
*his eyes roll back in his head, and he falls - dead weight - into a pile of empty beer cans*
he turns out to be ok. with a quart of vodka, we convince mickey d that he is a freestyle
god. and he is. i've never before been so impressed by a freestyle. he is fast, clever
and on point. we started saying random words at him and he would throw them in
without skippin' a beat. we'd interject after a while every now and then (scout and myself).
rory and pimp tea joined a coupla times as well before headin' to sleep. at one point,
mickey d went on for a full half hour without stopping. it was absolutely crazy.
we partied new brunswick style until the sun came up and then off to sleep.
day 4 comin' next. (i'm home now, so i can prolly do day 4 up tonite.)
Day 4:
we started this one by getting kicked out of the campgrounds. no, we didn't do anything
wrong. they have to do this. they kick everyone out because the festival hasn't started yet, and
they have no clue who already has passes. you are allowed to leave your tents, tho, so we
moved our tent from the renegade stage to new brunswick so we could be with familiar
folk. then we headed to the main gate for our passes. again, we get misdirected. (ghetto 26)
still not organized enough to know where to send the bands for passes, as opposed to
the people with tickets to get their bracelets. we finally get them after running back and
forth for a while, and a game of frisbee. finally, a pass for collide...oh, wait. they spelled
me wrong. (ghetto 27) a pass for "collid". we all laughed and joked and such then went for
breakfast nearby before heading to sydney for our next show. breakfast was good, but some
of the other's meals came with desert included, so i thought "yeah, desert = yummy."
"what do you have for ice cream?"....the answer i got was, "a place down the road". which
i thought was funny. then, she says, "we don't sell much ice cream here, so we just have
sundays of either vanilla or chocalate. no selection." so, i buy a chocolate sunday.
she comes back with one of those little cups that you use to hold your boiled egg for cracking...
i'll give her credit tho, she FILLED it. HAHAHAHA! (ghetto 28) two spoonfuls of that and it was gone.
it cost me 2 bucks plus tax. i felt used.
it may just be a bad memory, but i don't recall anything all too memorable happening
on the way to sydney, but when we got there, i found a broom fit for a witch, so we (of course)
attached it to the van. (ghetto 29) then we bought lanyards (those things that you hang your
passcard at work on around your neck) for our passes and look around value village, wal mart
and the dollar store for a bit. then we head to the venue. we arrived at the maple leaf lounge,
where they have a sign out front stating "summer time hours, daily specils" (ghetto 30).
inside, we had to rearange to set up, and when scout picked up the lamp, it came into
two pieces. (ghetto 31) the place was empty for a while, so we put one of the speakers
outside on the sidewalk and danced on the road for a while. a car drove by and threw a
drink from wendy's at rory. (ghetto 32) a guy who organizes shows in the valley showed
up and recognized curbside prawjek, and gave me a can of keith's to drink on the sidewalk
with him, so, me being me, i did. (ghetto 33) we played our show, and it was awesome.
we rocked the hell outta that little place. then, we did a bunch of shots and headed back
to evolve, where we, once again, drank until the sun came up. day 5 comes later.
sidenote from pimptea:
In the meantime, I thought I'd add that while in Halifax, an errant pass of the frisbee managed to nail one of the two wildlife warning system thingies stuck to my roof and break it. So I had to buy a new pair in Sydney, but their dollar store had a different variety. So now I have two different old wildlife warning things on each side of the roof of the van... collide, does this warrant a ghetto count? -pimp tea-
yes. (ghetto 34) and sorry Pimp, i'm a bad throw. i'll be more
careful with those dangerous things from now on. day 5 comin'
up tonite.
Day 5: (DEVOLVE FESTIVAL)
Yeah, sure. everyone has probably made that joke already, what with the
"no beds", and the "no hot water", etc. etc. etc.....anywho, we wake up after about 2
hours of sleep and take the tarp off of our tent in case any hot girls without tops on
come walkin' past...they did. "WOOT!" then we speak of breakfast:
scout(i think it was scout): "you must be hungry"
collide: "actually, i'm on a hunger strike.....and it's strikin' me fukkin' hard right now. pass me my ghetto cheese..." *reaching into a box of no name brand pizza pockets*
mickey d: "how you gonna cook those?..."
collide: "i'm not." *chomping into uncooked pocketty goodness* (ghetto 35)
half of new brunswick: "awwww..."
then we go to find which stage we're playin' on......"oh, the 'roots stage'? where's that?
i don't think i recall seein' that one..." (exactly) so, after we've exhausted every diplomatic effort at finding the thing, a large greasy woman shows me where it is....yeah, it's basically a very wobbly, shab-assed sheet of plywood on the dirt raised about 4 inches with planks.
so, we had to perform on the dirt in order not to harm the steadiness of the turntables.
(ghetto 36) locdogjr spins records and mixes and scratches for a bit, then it's time.
pimp tea and rory do a song (super dude) and i do two of mine (that road and
freakin' you) and near the end of freakin', the system breaks. yeah, that's right. we killed
at evolve. (hee hee) so, the dude who's there only to watch the equipment won't let
us fix it, and we can't continue our sets............locdogjr: "hey collide, me and mickey d
are going to take a drive into town and buy more beer if you wanna come with..."
(we all know my answer, so i'm not going to bother.) we get about halfway to the town
of antigonish when we spot 2 guys on the side of the road. this normally does not turn
our heads, but one is lying on his face and the other is waving his arms frantically.
we waited past several cars that just passed by, and crossed an intersection to see
if we could help. two hot ladies in another car also stopped. (alright!) these guys had
been partying all nite and hitchhiking for hours. it was an extremely hot day and they
had walked a long way. the poor guy had heat stroke it would seem. they were carrying
heavy bags as well. the girls gave them a 4 litre jug of water, and we did what any good
person would do. we put them in our car and drove them about a half an hour in
the opposite direction from where they were going. this was at first just a mistake.
but they did benefit quite a bit from the water, the sitting, the nap they both had in
the car, and the sweet sweet air conditioning. they gave us each a beer for being
nice to them. they had a bookbag full of rum also. they offered rum to drive them
all the way they were going, but we bought ice to go along with our beer which would
have melted by the time we got there so we had to decline. don't worry people. we did
drive them back to where we picked them up in the first place, air conditioned, with more
water, and bellies full of hamburgers. we're not monsters. (um....) anywho,
we head back to the festival. we spend the rest of the afternoon drinking beer and
smoking cigarrettes, until.......*incidental music* "THROY!!!"
"SOMEONE TOLD ME YOU WERE HERE! you're eating mushrooms with me, right?..."
"....YEAH!"
this was at around 4:30. mushroom story later. (still day 5)
Day 5 Continues...:
"HANSEL AND GRETEL DISCOVERED THE GINGERBREAD HOUSE.....
ABOUT 45 MINUTES AFTER THEY DISCOVERED THE MUSHROOMS!!!" -George Carlin-
so, let's see. where did we leave off?...oh, yeah. "you're eating mushrooms with me, right?"
"YEAH!" so, first we sit in "new brunswick" (i think i'll stop using quotes for that)
and drink beer for a while. i supplied throy with beer so he could avoid walking to his tent
and he could pay me back later. after a while, we decide we want to check out the
rheostatics. they were enjoyable. we snuck beer into the main stage area and kept
refilling our cups.(we can't bring cans to the main stage because much music is filming,
and they don't want to have to pay royalties for accidentally showing beer logos) we
smile at greg hemmings, who's in front going back and forth on his camera aparatus
filming the show. hard working dude. i'm proud of him. he's in a good spot, and making
money doing something he loves. anywho, after the rheostatics, we break off back down
to the ghetto stage(roots) to see skratch bastid. by now, they had fixed the system
and more people are aware that this area exists. skratch was cool. he has a new trick
that really impressed me. he starts to play 'flashlight' by funkadelic, then switches to
'another brick in the wall' by pink floyd for a minute, then he goes back to 'flashlight' and
turns the first melody of flashlight in the theme of 'another brick' by pink floyd using only the tones from 'flashlight'. impressive. but we're running out of beer. "to the new brunswicktorium!"
locdog let me use his cooler, so we stashed the warm beer there to get cold, and took
the cold beer with us to drink. (yeah, we're BRILLIANT!!) we run into some other cats
from home and join them at their tent for a while. they're playing chess, which was a
breath of fresh air adding to all the breaths of fresh air. throy gets the beer he owes me
and we hang out with kevin , krause and two matts for a while. they offer me a cooler to
keep my beers in while we're there. after a while, we decide we'd (throy and i)like to check
out this waterfall we keep hearing about. we grab a few beers for the road, and start off.
"where better to eat a handful of mushrooms than in nature?.......exactly." it starts...
we pick up a couple of strays along the way, and start to get impatient..."hey, let's eat."
we stop several times to make disgusted faces like our skin is covered in burdocks, and
wash it down with more beer(naturally). it was kind of a long walk, so by the time we get
there, we're 3 weeks from left wednesday. (yes. that's what i meant)
we are greeted by THE most gorgeous, tall, naked french girl you ever did see.
down in the water, the second most gorgeous, less tall, more naked french girl
soaping herself up. Throy is bent on taking a dip. i'm just bent. i sit on a log, open a beer,
and continue snacking on mushrooms. the waterfall and swimming hole were quite
lovely, but the highlite for me, being a leacherous pervert, was the ladies.
i forget who: "are you going to swim?"
me: "nah, i'm not much of a swimmer. i'm more of a lurker....mushrooms?!?"
so, throy gets out, and the sun is setting. it's time to leave the woods before we
can't see our path out. we get lost for a minute, because we figured that even though
the path was staight, we weren't, so it might have changed. many jokes were made,
though i don't recall most of them on the walk back. we ate more shrooms and drank
more beer. then it's off to throy's tent so we can get his flashlight and sweater, so
we can find my tent, and my flashlight and sweater. we can't find his flashlight, so
we hand throy off to two hot girls who had recently camped next to throy(he didn't mind)
for the use of their flashlight.
me: "wait. throy? did we inadvertantly give away and completely abandon 2 seperate
piles of beer to random people?...."
throy: "oh, fawk (he actually prounounced it like that). the beers... go. GO!! YOU HAVE FLASHLIGHT, WILL TRAVEL! i'm collateral here. get beer."
after promising the girls i would return their flashlite, i am off.
i tripped over a few tents, and bumped into a few people, but nothin' nasty. must empty
bladder. waiting for the porta-potty was okay, because of all the glow sticks and shiny
things to stare at. like the inside of my soul. a dude starts walking over to me, and i didn't recognize him, so i backed away for a second. he hugs me.
random dude: "MAN! you look so HAPPY!"
me:(at the peak of cleverness...i'm proud of this one) "i AM happy. i thought you mistook me for a porta potty. quite frankly i'm relieved. vacant, yes! but not a toilet!"
he flashes me a grin and the gun and off he goes. i use the disgusting things and i'm back on my mission. i find kevin, krause and the matts. they still have the beer. "HUZZAH!"
i managed to find new brunswick without trouble as i had now been there so many times,
it had become 2nd nature. i checked on my beer. colder than the throy beer. the ol'
switcheroo. i was delighted noone had drank any. well, i'm off work again, so i'll hafta
continue later. it was the longest, and most fun day of the whole tour. much more mushrooms...
Day 5 Cont...(again):
THE MUSHROOM CLOUDED COLLIDE
So, after switching the beers, grabbing my sweater and my booklight, which
i attached to my belt for double fistin' beer drinkin' action, it's off to find throy again.
throy's tent was more difficult for me, as i was only there twice. once was during the day,
the other, at nite on fungus. i tripped (pun intended) along to around 27 wrong tents, and
even sat with a few people before realizing that i didn't know them and they were, in fact,
not throy. (a lot of people at evolve have dreads and beards, as does throy, and i am loaded
and fucked on mushrooms) so, i had conversations like this:
me: "can i rock a flashlight or what?!?" (sitting next to some dude who looks
similar to throy, but whom i've never met)
not throy: "yeah, that thing is pretty cool. what is that? a book light? good idea puttin'
it on your belt like that."
me: (opening a beer and realizing that i don't know this dude) "beer?..."
not throy: "sure, if you're offerin'........" *cssshhhh*
me: "well, i gotta make like a fetus and head out."
not throy: "uh, well, thanx for the beer."
and this one:
me: "oh, cool. you brought your guitar. that makes me smile. for a music festival,
i haven't seen many. peculiar."
also not throy: "yeah, i don't think i could've left it at home. i'd miss it. do you play?"
collide: (realizing that throy already knows the answer to that question, therefore, this
guy is not throy) "yeah, i've been playin' for a bit."
also not throy: (handing me the guitar) "here. give 'er."
so, i played him and his friends (another dude and two girls) a couple of songs,
then, i'm off on my quest again. i run into el jefe, who says:
"hey. troy's looking for you, and you're in luck. since he's close by, i'll take you right
to him."
so, i returned the flashlight to the two hot girls, and they leave to check out the
unity stage. a shame. we were heading to the main stage. oh, well. anywho, we
happen upon krause and the boys again and join them for a while. throy and i crack
them all up for a while, then it's time for spearhead. Michael Franti is a giant compared
to the group. we danced, sang along, smiled and ate more mushrooms, drank more beer,
and ran out fast.....throy left on bussiness. i run into locdogjr, who eats some mushrooms
with me, and asks if i can spare a beer. yup. let's go." we head back to new brunswick
where i crack everyone up for like an hour ("hand me 7 grams of mushrooms and tell me
i'm not funny...") while i pour 8 cans of beer into an empty "fruite" bottle. (ghetto 37)
a girl took her shirt off (i forget why) and when she realized her breasts were showing,
she stood up and turned around to get her shirt back on...
mickey d: (noticing the tatoo on her back) "that's a cool tattoo. that must have taken
a long time..."
collide: (noticing i'm still in prime viewing position) "i think you're breasts are really nice... the tatoo, i don't so much care for."
i then rant for a while about the glory and evolution of the goat and my marketing ploys
of how to make goat worshiping more trendy. (worshiping the very large goat, or the ginormous
goat, the goat handshake, etc) i had everyone busting guts. the prize here however goes
to rory for this line while freestyling:
rory: (noticing two people walking by our tents) "wait. hold on, i see two cute girls walking past. ...shit. one's a guy. i'm gonna kick my ass."
we take the fruite , now titled "ghetto cheese" (yeh, two meanings now!), back to spearhead and rock out for another while.
i enjoyed them immensely. after spearhead, we ate more mushrooms (alot more) and rocked
out to some dj's for a while. some shirtless dude with an accent and an obvious head full of
drugs came up to me and was talking (well, trying to talk) way too close to me.
greasy guy: "garble garble really good dancer. garble you should come garble garble"
me: "are you hitting on me?..."
greasy guy: (obviously trying very hard) no, garble. you're fukkin' cute, but i you dance good. garble garble, (loosing balance and wobbling) garble, over there up front. i'm with much music, and we want garble up front because they're taping this."
me: "okay, so what you're saying is that i rock ass, and i should go dance where
the cameras are......"
greasy guy: "YEAS! YOU ROCK ASS! GARBLE SHOULD dance..."
me: "i think i can make that happen. if i can't, i'll find someone who can show me
how to make that happen."
he hugs me and heads back toward the stage. (strange guys keep hugging me...what the fuk?)
*more mushrooms, rockin' out, ghetto cheese*
we switch stages a few times, wake some people up, infect them with our bad
influence and party for a very long time. the sun came up
i think about 2 or 3 hours before i passed out leaned on a fence. good times, good times.
heading back to my tent for more sleep with blanket and pillow, i saw a dude hit some
other dude in the nose. this was completely unprovoked. just a random guy walking and this
dude gets up, walks up to him and clocks him. (injury count 3...not too bad. none would
be better, but at least the tour didn't involve any horrible industrial accidents.)
a lot of blood, but no fight, as there were many witnesses to this and we rushed over fast
enough to stop any further violence. so, we told drunken frat boy to fuck off, and i left
again for sleep. one more sip of the ghetto cheese, and vibrant, colorful dreams.
skeptic tank drummer did not make it to evolve, so i leave him with this:
EPILOGUE:
Pimp Tea, Rory Borealis, Scout, and Mickey D are all fukkin' awesome cats to tour with.
i had a blast the whole time, with the exeption of my throat, (which still has not fully healed)
and i wish to thank them all for bringin' me along. and thank you all for reading my tour story.
oh, and in case i forgot to quote this from day 5:
locdogjr: "EVERYTHING IS FUNNY!!!..."
-Sleeve-
an old story, but a goodie. i lost this when my temp website went down.
two warnings before you start:
1. this is long, and funny! i posted this on forum i frequent whenever i could find internet access while on a short maritimes tour with pimp tea and associates. but long. pack a lunch!
2. in this one, i sometimes refer to myself as "collide" instead of steve. it's my stage name, and
this was a tour for my music.
well, it started before i even left...
during the pre-tour "wootness", i managed to come down with
strepthroat. great way to start a tour as a vocalist! to cure this, i borrowed
penicilin from beth so i wouldn't have to go to a doctor. (ghetto 1)
then it was off to charllotown, p.e.i. somewhere past scoudouc, we
point our eyes at a girl just off to the right...yes, she was,
in fact, playing 4-wheeler front lawn golf. (ghetto 2)
we later finally get across that long bridge and get to the best
damn skatepark you ever did see. yup. a couple sheets of plywood
leaned against a picnic table. the place was actually called
"crapaud skatepark". (ghetto 3)
then we found the venue (myrons), ate mozza sticks, drank beer and played
our show. then we head to a karaoke bar (velvet underground)to sing "bust a move" by young mc. i'm there right now. Pimp Tea and Scout did that song well by adding freestyles in between the verses. i'll be back to further the story later.
props to megs for inspiring the ghetto count.
oh, the boys are gettin' back up. later.
at the karaoke bar, we met 4 potatoes. these ladies was rippin' up
the dance floor. (ghetto 4)these were some hoochies.
scout found a plastic leg on the ground (about the size of a
4 year old's), so we attached it to the roof of the van.(ghetto 5)
it hasn't fallen off yet. after rockin' the karaoke, we head outside
with the notion of furthering the party. we kidnapped 5 girls and
some dude that was with one of 'em. (ghetto 6)"nah, we're safe.
we're just gonna take you to the beach and we're gonna party.
we pack up 3 cars and a motorcycle and head to...a bootlegger.
(ghetto 7)she was a sweet old lady in her mid forties. she sold
us 3 cases of beer and some vodka. we head to the beach. two of
us turn into a lean-to made of a blanket(ghetto 8). the rest
work on a fire. success!! all is well for a bit, except the
winds were nearing break-neck speed, so the tent kept blowing
away. solution? "let's tie it to the van!" (ghetto 9)
we later named the wind "hurricane juan". all is well, and the
party continues. one of the two art students,(the random guy)
is too lazy and drunk to go get a stick for meddling with the fire, so he uses his fingers
to push the embers around.......(ghetto 10). "JESUS, YOU MORON!!!."
so, he burns his fingers very badly. he had to be taken to
the hospital, so we lost half the party due to drives. 4 of the
girls and the art student are off. we clean up our mess on the beach
and put our fire out and attempt to sleep. "damn you hurricane juan!!!!!!!"
very loud and shaky tent. sleep. next day(today) will
come next net access.
DAY TWO: the sun was up when we finally passed out. hurricane juan
had let up a bit...alot. that's when we found the potato. yes, a
potato. it was lying on the beach. "who doesn't bring a raw potato
to the beach?" (ghetto 11) we notice just to the right of the tent
that this beach has a porta-potty. but it's on it's side. so, of
course, we have to have a photo with scout using it. (ghetto 12)
we wake up one of the girls we kidnapped who slept in the van
with pimp tea and head for dirtbag breakfast. we go to a place
that has five dollar whatever and have a seat...there are two
parties of 4 people eating stuff that looked ok and made us
hungrier...no service.......no staff.....huh?....."does anyone
work here?".......no one even told us it would be a couple minutes.
nothin'. we walk around the place a bit, look behind a counter, a
corner, and nothin. no staff. (ghetto 13)
so, naturally, we dicide that it might be a good idea to go
somewhere where they have employees. we go to "checkers" for the
dirtbag. AWESOME! the staff there was pleasant and very adament
in refilling our coffees every two minutes. WOOT!
we head to a skatepark so scout and rory can stretch their legs.
after that, it's time for scout to change his underwear....
IN THE PARK! (ghetto 14) he went behind a tree and we all
laughed at the fact he was doing this, which was only all
the more hightened in hilarity when he comes back stating
"AAAAWWWWW, MAN! I STEPPED IN DOG SHIT....IN MY BARE FEET!"
(ghetto 15) we start heading off to helltown. we contemplated
stopping at a farm to steal a potato, but we were workin' on
a schedule and didn't want to miss the ferry. goodbye p.e.i.
we'll miss ye. we get to ferry terminal and turn our heads to
the left to see a lobster restaurant. it has a giant lobster
on the top of it that states in very large letters,
"crabby's". (ghetto 16) the only really ghetto story from
the ferry was a sign (yes, ON the ferry) advertising the
ferry. it said "why not take the ferry?" (ghetto 17)
after the ferry we hit the highway again, and after a while
our heads turn left......"what the FUCK was THAT?!?!?!? turn
around! that was creepy as FUCK!" we pull up to a lawn full
of fake people made of trash and maniquin pieces...and, we
suspect, parts from victims. and they're moving!!! there's an
old guy sittin' and waitin' for people to show up so he can
turn on the music. this was interesting, but very creepy.
the only thing creepier than the fake people (yeah, we have
photos)was the real person. we suspect some of his wife
is stored in a toolshed out back. (no ghetto here, just
creepyness)
we stop at a wendy's and tim horton's for coffee, food
and a break from being in the van, and we all chow down.
scout adds a 'flurry' to his meal, and a cookie to his
flurry, and half of his coffe to his cookie and flurry.
(ghetto 18)
we hit dartmouth to a dj's house who was lettin' us crash
there after the show. we thought he wasn't home as he
wasn't answering his door or his phone...we go around back.
"cool. this place is stylin'" dude: "oh, hey guys. did you
knock? sorry, i didn't hear the door. i was just shavin'
my head on the deck." (ghetto 19)we drink the leftover
bootlegger beer and prepare for the show. the show opened
up with some local helltown dudes. they were good. we played
our show at the khyber and rip it up. the sound wasn't the
greatest and we didn't get paid, but the turnout was allright,
and we all had fun. my throat is getting far much worse tho.
after the show we head to stage 9 to see skratch bastid.
then, it's off to our perspective sleepin' spots. i went
to mike's (sj baby)place for the devil. we finish off the
quart of sambuca we shared at around 4 or five while watching 'basketcase'.
the elusive first of the series. i forgot to add a p.e.i.
ghetto to the story, so i'll take it out of it's
chronological order: we see a parking meter with a
piece of cardboard taped to it that states, and i quote
"metre does not work!" (ghetto 20) mike breaks a chair
(ghetto 21)and decides it's time for pasta...in which
he burns his thumb on the stove. (ghetto 22) then a
haunting image of that idiot art students horribly burned,
bubbling, blistered, melted plastic looking fingers from
the beach incident hit's the mind...sleep.
day 3 later....
Day 3, with a message to Pimp Tea, Rory Borealis, Scout and Mickey D:
the message: if i miss any ghettoness, add it in as a later number. we can
all forgive, i hope.
Day 3:
day 3 started with mike(kanga) breakin' another chair. he now has only one.(ghetto 23)
and then it was some coffe....no cream, no sugar...i normally use both. so does mike.(ghetto 24)
we catch up some, then it's off for some dirtbag breaky food. we hit a place called "ce si bon"
which we found amusing. in english, a resteraunt called "this is good" would probably not
do as well. the waitress was hot, and pleasant. breaky was good, and they kept our
coffee steady. (they could tell) mike eventually went to work, and i went back to the khybur
to meet the crew. now, it's off to antigonish, NS to set up our tents at evolve and sleep(yeah,
right) before leaving for sydney, only to come back.....yup. pretty much, uh, yeah.
before we can leave helltown, we must hit ckdu(halifax campus radio) to drop off play copies of our cd's. pimp tea,
mickey d, and myself head there while rory and scout go to the skatepark where they would
wait for us to come pick them up. we dropped off and shit and head back, stopping to
sit on the giant nuts of what looked like a grotesque penis with sputtering ghonasyphiherpeles...
gross. this statue was purposely donated to the university and for some reasone...accepted.
so, we figured "if theres ever been a time to stop and ponder your life, it's while sitting on
some balls....." back to the skate park. some 14 year old kid fell while attempting a trick, and broke
his arm badly. it was bent in the wrong direction (injury count up to 3). i shudder at the thought.
he was a tough kid though. he screamed "fuck" for a while, then calmed down (partially due
to shock, we think). scout walked him to the hospital. so after this, it's time for more highway. scout pulls out a box of delightfulness. the "dj-x". this box can do a lot of things. most important for 5 hip hop artists in a van, spit out beats. we each did some written stuff, then we start on with the freestyle. we do this for 2 or 3 hours, switching off, and stuff. we finally make it to evolve. the guys at every gate misdirected us as to where to go if we are performers for the festival, "just go that way and sharon (who we think was a dude) will show you where the artists are parked..." "yeah, just go back where you were a couple of times
and they'll show you where you need to be..." (ghetto 25) organized, they were not.
we decide "fuck it." and just park down by "the renegade stage". we put up our tent there
as well, and wander the grounds to get our bearings, see where all the stages are, and
see who's partying. there was very little musical anything going on, as no stages were open,
so we brought the dj-x and found......"NEW BRUNSWICK". awesome. a loud, drunken, familliar
voice shot out over anything else that was goin' on...."HEY, SHTEEEVE!! IT'S TONY AND
STEPPHAANNNNEE!! COME HAVES A SOME BEER WITH US!!!..." cool. we were at
home. well, we were at a shanty-town that represented our home in new brunswick.
(most of what is to come cannot be added to the ghetto count as this is an outdoor
music festival with camping involved. at evolve, the ghetto count can only be measured
by special ghetto things, and actions.) we join the new brunswick crew and drink, jabber,
and freestyle for hours. at one point, tony, mid sentence, says "yeah, you guys ar....
*his eyes roll back in his head, and he falls - dead weight - into a pile of empty beer cans*
he turns out to be ok. with a quart of vodka, we convince mickey d that he is a freestyle
god. and he is. i've never before been so impressed by a freestyle. he is fast, clever
and on point. we started saying random words at him and he would throw them in
without skippin' a beat. we'd interject after a while every now and then (scout and myself).
rory and pimp tea joined a coupla times as well before headin' to sleep. at one point,
mickey d went on for a full half hour without stopping. it was absolutely crazy.
we partied new brunswick style until the sun came up and then off to sleep.
day 4 comin' next. (i'm home now, so i can prolly do day 4 up tonite.)
Day 4:
we started this one by getting kicked out of the campgrounds. no, we didn't do anything
wrong. they have to do this. they kick everyone out because the festival hasn't started yet, and
they have no clue who already has passes. you are allowed to leave your tents, tho, so we
moved our tent from the renegade stage to new brunswick so we could be with familiar
folk. then we headed to the main gate for our passes. again, we get misdirected. (ghetto 26)
still not organized enough to know where to send the bands for passes, as opposed to
the people with tickets to get their bracelets. we finally get them after running back and
forth for a while, and a game of frisbee. finally, a pass for collide...oh, wait. they spelled
me wrong. (ghetto 27) a pass for "collid". we all laughed and joked and such then went for
breakfast nearby before heading to sydney for our next show. breakfast was good, but some
of the other's meals came with desert included, so i thought "yeah, desert = yummy."
"what do you have for ice cream?"....the answer i got was, "a place down the road". which
i thought was funny. then, she says, "we don't sell much ice cream here, so we just have
sundays of either vanilla or chocalate. no selection." so, i buy a chocolate sunday.
she comes back with one of those little cups that you use to hold your boiled egg for cracking...
i'll give her credit tho, she FILLED it. HAHAHAHA! (ghetto 28) two spoonfuls of that and it was gone.
it cost me 2 bucks plus tax. i felt used.
it may just be a bad memory, but i don't recall anything all too memorable happening
on the way to sydney, but when we got there, i found a broom fit for a witch, so we (of course)
attached it to the van. (ghetto 29) then we bought lanyards (those things that you hang your
passcard at work on around your neck) for our passes and look around value village, wal mart
and the dollar store for a bit. then we head to the venue. we arrived at the maple leaf lounge,
where they have a sign out front stating "summer time hours, daily specils" (ghetto 30).
inside, we had to rearange to set up, and when scout picked up the lamp, it came into
two pieces. (ghetto 31) the place was empty for a while, so we put one of the speakers
outside on the sidewalk and danced on the road for a while. a car drove by and threw a
drink from wendy's at rory. (ghetto 32) a guy who organizes shows in the valley showed
up and recognized curbside prawjek, and gave me a can of keith's to drink on the sidewalk
with him, so, me being me, i did. (ghetto 33) we played our show, and it was awesome.
we rocked the hell outta that little place. then, we did a bunch of shots and headed back
to evolve, where we, once again, drank until the sun came up. day 5 comes later.
sidenote from pimptea:
In the meantime, I thought I'd add that while in Halifax, an errant pass of the frisbee managed to nail one of the two wildlife warning system thingies stuck to my roof and break it. So I had to buy a new pair in Sydney, but their dollar store had a different variety. So now I have two different old wildlife warning things on each side of the roof of the van... collide, does this warrant a ghetto count? -pimp tea-
yes. (ghetto 34) and sorry Pimp, i'm a bad throw. i'll be more
careful with those dangerous things from now on. day 5 comin'
up tonite.
Day 5: (DEVOLVE FESTIVAL)
Yeah, sure. everyone has probably made that joke already, what with the
"no beds", and the "no hot water", etc. etc. etc.....anywho, we wake up after about 2
hours of sleep and take the tarp off of our tent in case any hot girls without tops on
come walkin' past...they did. "WOOT!" then we speak of breakfast:
scout(i think it was scout): "you must be hungry"
collide: "actually, i'm on a hunger strike.....and it's strikin' me fukkin' hard right now. pass me my ghetto cheese..." *reaching into a box of no name brand pizza pockets*
mickey d: "how you gonna cook those?..."
collide: "i'm not." *chomping into uncooked pocketty goodness* (ghetto 35)
half of new brunswick: "awwww..."
then we go to find which stage we're playin' on......"oh, the 'roots stage'? where's that?
i don't think i recall seein' that one..." (exactly) so, after we've exhausted every diplomatic effort at finding the thing, a large greasy woman shows me where it is....yeah, it's basically a very wobbly, shab-assed sheet of plywood on the dirt raised about 4 inches with planks.
so, we had to perform on the dirt in order not to harm the steadiness of the turntables.
(ghetto 36) locdogjr spins records and mixes and scratches for a bit, then it's time.
pimp tea and rory do a song (super dude) and i do two of mine (that road and
freakin' you) and near the end of freakin', the system breaks. yeah, that's right. we killed
at evolve. (hee hee) so, the dude who's there only to watch the equipment won't let
us fix it, and we can't continue our sets............locdogjr: "hey collide, me and mickey d
are going to take a drive into town and buy more beer if you wanna come with..."
(we all know my answer, so i'm not going to bother.) we get about halfway to the town
of antigonish when we spot 2 guys on the side of the road. this normally does not turn
our heads, but one is lying on his face and the other is waving his arms frantically.
we waited past several cars that just passed by, and crossed an intersection to see
if we could help. two hot ladies in another car also stopped. (alright!) these guys had
been partying all nite and hitchhiking for hours. it was an extremely hot day and they
had walked a long way. the poor guy had heat stroke it would seem. they were carrying
heavy bags as well. the girls gave them a 4 litre jug of water, and we did what any good
person would do. we put them in our car and drove them about a half an hour in
the opposite direction from where they were going. this was at first just a mistake.
but they did benefit quite a bit from the water, the sitting, the nap they both had in
the car, and the sweet sweet air conditioning. they gave us each a beer for being
nice to them. they had a bookbag full of rum also. they offered rum to drive them
all the way they were going, but we bought ice to go along with our beer which would
have melted by the time we got there so we had to decline. don't worry people. we did
drive them back to where we picked them up in the first place, air conditioned, with more
water, and bellies full of hamburgers. we're not monsters. (um....) anywho,
we head back to the festival. we spend the rest of the afternoon drinking beer and
smoking cigarrettes, until.......*incidental music* "THROY!!!"
"SOMEONE TOLD ME YOU WERE HERE! you're eating mushrooms with me, right?..."
"....YEAH!"
this was at around 4:30. mushroom story later. (still day 5)
Day 5 Continues...:
"HANSEL AND GRETEL DISCOVERED THE GINGERBREAD HOUSE.....
ABOUT 45 MINUTES AFTER THEY DISCOVERED THE MUSHROOMS!!!" -George Carlin-
so, let's see. where did we leave off?...oh, yeah. "you're eating mushrooms with me, right?"
"YEAH!" so, first we sit in "new brunswick" (i think i'll stop using quotes for that)
and drink beer for a while. i supplied throy with beer so he could avoid walking to his tent
and he could pay me back later. after a while, we decide we want to check out the
rheostatics. they were enjoyable. we snuck beer into the main stage area and kept
refilling our cups.(we can't bring cans to the main stage because much music is filming,
and they don't want to have to pay royalties for accidentally showing beer logos) we
smile at greg hemmings, who's in front going back and forth on his camera aparatus
filming the show. hard working dude. i'm proud of him. he's in a good spot, and making
money doing something he loves. anywho, after the rheostatics, we break off back down
to the ghetto stage(roots) to see skratch bastid. by now, they had fixed the system
and more people are aware that this area exists. skratch was cool. he has a new trick
that really impressed me. he starts to play 'flashlight' by funkadelic, then switches to
'another brick in the wall' by pink floyd for a minute, then he goes back to 'flashlight' and
turns the first melody of flashlight in the theme of 'another brick' by pink floyd using only the tones from 'flashlight'. impressive. but we're running out of beer. "to the new brunswicktorium!"
locdog let me use his cooler, so we stashed the warm beer there to get cold, and took
the cold beer with us to drink. (yeah, we're BRILLIANT!!) we run into some other cats
from home and join them at their tent for a while. they're playing chess, which was a
breath of fresh air adding to all the breaths of fresh air. throy gets the beer he owes me
and we hang out with kevin , krause and two matts for a while. they offer me a cooler to
keep my beers in while we're there. after a while, we decide we'd (throy and i)like to check
out this waterfall we keep hearing about. we grab a few beers for the road, and start off.
"where better to eat a handful of mushrooms than in nature?.......exactly." it starts...
we pick up a couple of strays along the way, and start to get impatient..."hey, let's eat."
we stop several times to make disgusted faces like our skin is covered in burdocks, and
wash it down with more beer(naturally). it was kind of a long walk, so by the time we get
there, we're 3 weeks from left wednesday. (yes. that's what i meant)
we are greeted by THE most gorgeous, tall, naked french girl you ever did see.
down in the water, the second most gorgeous, less tall, more naked french girl
soaping herself up. Throy is bent on taking a dip. i'm just bent. i sit on a log, open a beer,
and continue snacking on mushrooms. the waterfall and swimming hole were quite
lovely, but the highlite for me, being a leacherous pervert, was the ladies.
i forget who: "are you going to swim?"
me: "nah, i'm not much of a swimmer. i'm more of a lurker....mushrooms?!?"
so, throy gets out, and the sun is setting. it's time to leave the woods before we
can't see our path out. we get lost for a minute, because we figured that even though
the path was staight, we weren't, so it might have changed. many jokes were made,
though i don't recall most of them on the walk back. we ate more shrooms and drank
more beer. then it's off to throy's tent so we can get his flashlight and sweater, so
we can find my tent, and my flashlight and sweater. we can't find his flashlight, so
we hand throy off to two hot girls who had recently camped next to throy(he didn't mind)
for the use of their flashlight.
me: "wait. throy? did we inadvertantly give away and completely abandon 2 seperate
piles of beer to random people?...."
throy: "oh, fawk (he actually prounounced it like that). the beers... go. GO!! YOU HAVE FLASHLIGHT, WILL TRAVEL! i'm collateral here. get beer."
after promising the girls i would return their flashlite, i am off.
i tripped over a few tents, and bumped into a few people, but nothin' nasty. must empty
bladder. waiting for the porta-potty was okay, because of all the glow sticks and shiny
things to stare at. like the inside of my soul. a dude starts walking over to me, and i didn't recognize him, so i backed away for a second. he hugs me.
random dude: "MAN! you look so HAPPY!"
me:(at the peak of cleverness...i'm proud of this one) "i AM happy. i thought you mistook me for a porta potty. quite frankly i'm relieved. vacant, yes! but not a toilet!"
he flashes me a grin and the gun and off he goes. i use the disgusting things and i'm back on my mission. i find kevin, krause and the matts. they still have the beer. "HUZZAH!"
i managed to find new brunswick without trouble as i had now been there so many times,
it had become 2nd nature. i checked on my beer. colder than the throy beer. the ol'
switcheroo. i was delighted noone had drank any. well, i'm off work again, so i'll hafta
continue later. it was the longest, and most fun day of the whole tour. much more mushrooms...
Day 5 Cont...(again):
THE MUSHROOM CLOUDED COLLIDE
So, after switching the beers, grabbing my sweater and my booklight, which
i attached to my belt for double fistin' beer drinkin' action, it's off to find throy again.
throy's tent was more difficult for me, as i was only there twice. once was during the day,
the other, at nite on fungus. i tripped (pun intended) along to around 27 wrong tents, and
even sat with a few people before realizing that i didn't know them and they were, in fact,
not throy. (a lot of people at evolve have dreads and beards, as does throy, and i am loaded
and fucked on mushrooms) so, i had conversations like this:
me: "can i rock a flashlight or what?!?" (sitting next to some dude who looks
similar to throy, but whom i've never met)
not throy: "yeah, that thing is pretty cool. what is that? a book light? good idea puttin'
it on your belt like that."
me: (opening a beer and realizing that i don't know this dude) "beer?..."
not throy: "sure, if you're offerin'........" *cssshhhh*
me: "well, i gotta make like a fetus and head out."
not throy: "uh, well, thanx for the beer."
and this one:
me: "oh, cool. you brought your guitar. that makes me smile. for a music festival,
i haven't seen many. peculiar."
also not throy: "yeah, i don't think i could've left it at home. i'd miss it. do you play?"
collide: (realizing that throy already knows the answer to that question, therefore, this
guy is not throy) "yeah, i've been playin' for a bit."
also not throy: (handing me the guitar) "here. give 'er."
so, i played him and his friends (another dude and two girls) a couple of songs,
then, i'm off on my quest again. i run into el jefe, who says:
"hey. troy's looking for you, and you're in luck. since he's close by, i'll take you right
to him."
so, i returned the flashlight to the two hot girls, and they leave to check out the
unity stage. a shame. we were heading to the main stage. oh, well. anywho, we
happen upon krause and the boys again and join them for a while. throy and i crack
them all up for a while, then it's time for spearhead. Michael Franti is a giant compared
to the group. we danced, sang along, smiled and ate more mushrooms, drank more beer,
and ran out fast.....throy left on bussiness. i run into locdogjr, who eats some mushrooms
with me, and asks if i can spare a beer. yup. let's go." we head back to new brunswick
where i crack everyone up for like an hour ("hand me 7 grams of mushrooms and tell me
i'm not funny...") while i pour 8 cans of beer into an empty "fruite" bottle. (ghetto 37)
a girl took her shirt off (i forget why) and when she realized her breasts were showing,
she stood up and turned around to get her shirt back on...
mickey d: (noticing the tatoo on her back) "that's a cool tattoo. that must have taken
a long time..."
collide: (noticing i'm still in prime viewing position) "i think you're breasts are really nice... the tatoo, i don't so much care for."
i then rant for a while about the glory and evolution of the goat and my marketing ploys
of how to make goat worshiping more trendy. (worshiping the very large goat, or the ginormous
goat, the goat handshake, etc) i had everyone busting guts. the prize here however goes
to rory for this line while freestyling:
rory: (noticing two people walking by our tents) "wait. hold on, i see two cute girls walking past. ...shit. one's a guy. i'm gonna kick my ass."
we take the fruite , now titled "ghetto cheese" (yeh, two meanings now!), back to spearhead and rock out for another while.
i enjoyed them immensely. after spearhead, we ate more mushrooms (alot more) and rocked
out to some dj's for a while. some shirtless dude with an accent and an obvious head full of
drugs came up to me and was talking (well, trying to talk) way too close to me.
greasy guy: "garble garble really good dancer. garble you should come garble garble"
me: "are you hitting on me?..."
greasy guy: (obviously trying very hard) no, garble. you're fukkin' cute, but i you dance good. garble garble, (loosing balance and wobbling) garble, over there up front. i'm with much music, and we want garble up front because they're taping this."
me: "okay, so what you're saying is that i rock ass, and i should go dance where
the cameras are......"
greasy guy: "YEAS! YOU ROCK ASS! GARBLE SHOULD dance..."
me: "i think i can make that happen. if i can't, i'll find someone who can show me
how to make that happen."
he hugs me and heads back toward the stage. (strange guys keep hugging me...what the fuk?)
*more mushrooms, rockin' out, ghetto cheese*
we switch stages a few times, wake some people up, infect them with our bad
influence and party for a very long time. the sun came up
i think about 2 or 3 hours before i passed out leaned on a fence. good times, good times.
heading back to my tent for more sleep with blanket and pillow, i saw a dude hit some
other dude in the nose. this was completely unprovoked. just a random guy walking and this
dude gets up, walks up to him and clocks him. (injury count 3...not too bad. none would
be better, but at least the tour didn't involve any horrible industrial accidents.)
a lot of blood, but no fight, as there were many witnesses to this and we rushed over fast
enough to stop any further violence. so, we told drunken frat boy to fuck off, and i left
again for sleep. one more sip of the ghetto cheese, and vibrant, colorful dreams.
skeptic tank drummer did not make it to evolve, so i leave him with this:
EPILOGUE:
Pimp Tea, Rory Borealis, Scout, and Mickey D are all fukkin' awesome cats to tour with.
i had a blast the whole time, with the exeption of my throat, (which still has not fully healed)
and i wish to thank them all for bringin' me along. and thank you all for reading my tour story.
oh, and in case i forgot to quote this from day 5:
locdogjr: "EVERYTHING IS FUNNY!!!..."
-Sleeve-
Monday, January 12, 2009
I Can't Believe It's Not Javex! the drink that should have killed me...
by far, the most drunk i have ever been, and likely ever will be is
contained below. i may leave names of friends out completely, except
for linz, as i honestly cannot remember exactly who was with us.
i do know that it started with five of us. one of them was linz.
there is one friend in particular who will be referenced more than
the others as he was integral to my hideously awful attempt at being a person.
for the sake of anonymity, i will not use his real name, but what
we called him for the night, but abreviated: "PDA"
the "PD" stands for "Pimp Daddy", as he was fliffin'!
Me and linz were hanging out at a coffee house enjoying a hot cup
and conversation with a few others who frequented the place with us,
when the door bursts open. this grabs our attention as this is not how
one normally opens the door to the coffee place. it was early evening.
the whole place turns to see what's up. it is PDA. he begins pointing
at us, one by one, and stating loudly "YOU, YOU, YOU... YOU, AND YOU! LET'S
GO!"
without knowing at all what is going on, but responding to his stern, we
leave our coffees at our table, and follow PDA out the door.
he leads us down the street, and around the corner, and we continue
down the next street.
linz: "what's up?"
PDA: "THERE'S NO TIME!"
me: "can you tell us while we walk?"
PDA: "NO! THERE'S NO TIME!!!"
the five of us obey, as he seems to be serious. we hadn't seen him for a few months
as he was away for work, and we were not sure what he might have gotten
himself into. i just hoped he wasn't inciting a brawl. thankfully, it was not
a brawl at all, but a bar, that he was bringing us to. a rather empty bar, on
a monday night just past 7:00. We enter O'leary's pub, and he tells the bartender
he'll be right back, and leads us to the patio section, and instructs us to sit.
we do. he leaves frantically, and comes back a few minutes later with two pitchers
of beer. he tells us to leave them. we are confused, but we leave them alone.
the bartender comes a few minutes later with two more pitchers.
PDA insists we still not touch. ok. we don't. there is still no speaking.
we are all a little worried that something is wrong with him.
the bartender comes back again with two more pitchers and then again
with 6 glasses.
we wait.
PDA: "THERE! NOW WE ALL HAVE ONE! LET'S DRINK!"
we then pour beer and begin asking questions. he finally lets us in
on what is going on. He had gone away for three months to work in a remote
location where he told us the town slogan should be "A WHOLE LOTTA NOTHIN'!"
he was making a high wage to do this, but had nowhere to spend it, and now
he wanted to have some fun. we offered to chip in on the drinks, but he
insisted we accept whatever he spent on us as a gift. we drink.
his insisting became yelling "PAH!!" and pushing his hand into our faces for
the rest of the night if we did not accept his offer to pay for everything. he
was taking his friends out for drinks. his treat. that is that.
one of us: "well, we don't want you to spend your who..."
PDA: "PAH!!!"
PDA keeps checking his watch like he's waiting for the new year or something, but
it was summer, and nowhere close to midnight, so we knew it wasn't that.
we asked a few times, but he changed the subject, and told us to drink up.
we all drink and chat for almost an hour, when he finally tells us, again, "IT'S TIME!"
we ask him if his water broke, and other jokes, and he yells, "FINISH YER DAMN DRINKS! IT'S
TIME!"
we finish our pitchers as quickly as we can manage, and PDA runs off the patio and around the
corner, flailing his arms wildly.
we follow our manic friend to a place called "gargoyles". it is no longer a bar, thank fuck!
they had a drink special on mondays. we knew what was happening. sort of.
Ten cent draught: (because i can type it faster, i may begin to spell it "draft")
you get in a lineup and give the bartender 40 cents, and he serves you 4 single draft at once.
this goes on for an hour, and then raises to 50 cents, then up a quarter each hour after
that until it becomes full price, which was 1.75 for a single draft.
you will see this drink special on some later blogs when i remember what happened.
we all get into the lineup as we know the drill. we have done this many times.
PDA stands with us for a moment, then says "NO! WE ARE NOT DOING THIS! WE ARE GOING
UPSTAIRS TO BUY REAL BEER AND LOOK DOWN ON THE REST OF THESE DIRTBAGS!..."
and off he goes. we follow.
he brings us past the dancefloor and up the stairs to the other bar, where he goes
to the bartender and hands him a 10.
PDA: (introduces himself)"we are going to be your best customers tonight! please make
sure the bouncers take good care of us!"
bartender: "you got it! what are you having?"
PDA: "first, i'd like you to put that ten into your pocket!"
bartender: "thank you. what can i get you?"
PDA orders us a few rounds of bottled beer, and keeps looking down at the lineup
downstairs, occasionally saying things like "look at all those douchebags! we could
be THEM!"
normally, we ARE them. we take turns guarding the table, hitting the dancefloor
a bit, and coming back up. we are all very much sauced!
i am at somewhere around a full pitcher, and 3 or 4 bottled beer at this point.
PDA begins asking "WHO'S DOING A SHOT WITH ME?" everyone declines.
PDA insists "SOMEONE is doing a shot with me!"
PDA"STEVE WILL DO A SHOT WITH ME!!!"
me: "okay, i'll do it, but let me pay."
PDA: "PAH!"
he runs up to the bar ahead of me and pre-pays for our shots while he
waits for me to shamble over.
i get to the bar and he exclaims "look at you. you're all repressed! GIVE THIS MAN
A BLOWJOB! i'll have one too!"
this drink, usually referred to as a girly shot, is bailey's irish cream and kahlua.
PDA and i are normally not shot people, so he was going easy on me.
PDA: "that was over too fast for something so delicious! two more, but make
them biglier!"
bartender: "okay. the full drink costs..."
PDA: "PAH!!!" (yes, he even started doing this to the bartender)
PDA had been tipping big all night, so he got away with being an ass.
we drank full glass blowjobs and got a beer to wash them down with.
he decided that i needed a bigger drink. i told him i didn't need any
more drinks, whatsoever.
PDA: "PAAAAAAHHHH!!! i'll find you a bigger one after a bit. enjoy your beer!"
i did enjoy my beer, and hit the dancefloor again, until my last couple drinks
kicked in a little better, and i started getting wobbly. i fell twice that i recall,
and bumped a few people, so i decided it was best to get back to our table.
i had a hard time up the stairs, so one of the bouncers helped me, and reminded me
where we were sitting. i suspect PDA tipped the bouncers at some point also. i should
have been led to an exit.
i get halfway to where our table is when i lose my equilibrium completely and fall onto
a neighboring table full of girls. i knocked over the table as well as all of their drinks,
landing in one of their laps. i think they would have been more mad about their drinks had
i not made them laugh when i started yelling "IT'S RAINING MEN!!!"
PDA runs over yelling "DON'T HURT HIM! I DID THIS TO HIM! I'LL REPLACE YOUR DRINKS!"
he did replace their drinks and the bouncer who helped me up the stairs came over to
see if the ladies were ok. they accepted the drinks, told the bouncer they were not mad
at us, and he (bouncer)told PDA that normally, he would kick a person out after that display.
PDA thanks him for letting me stay, and they shake hands.
i'm not sure if it was mine or not, but when i finally made it back to our table, i had a beer
that i started sipping on slowly. i was ashamed of myself, but drunk enough to forget that
very quickly. PDA keeps taking my beer from me to see if it's empty yet. he just takes it
out of my hand, holds it up to his face and puts it back. i knew what was going on. sort of.
we hobble back to the bar where there appears to be a lineup. they all move out of our way.
they had come to check out our antics. word was getting around that we were cracking up the
bartender and that PDA had been buying random people random shots all night. this did not
surprise me at all.
bartender: "back for that bigger drink?"
PDA: "yes! no more of that shittly littly glass!"
bartender: "how about this one?" (single draft glass)
PDA: "bigger."
bartender: "do you know how this is going to ..."
PDA: "PAAAHH!"
bartender: "this one?" (double draft glass)
PDA: "bigger."
bartender: "okay, but this is going to c...."
PDA: "PAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
bartender: "....?"(big beer stein)
PDA: "....... not bad..... how about THAT ONE!" (he is pointing behind the bartender at a
shelf containing a giant plastic mcDonald's cup. the big ones that have hockey players on them
and shit like that, and you can collect them. they are HUGE!)
bartender: "... oh, no, that's not one of our cups. that's just leftover from one of our
bouncers' lunch this afternoon."
PDA: "we'll take it!"
bartender: "that could get really pricey, boys!"
PDA: "PAAAAAAH!"
bartender: "okay"
He washes the cup, and a crowd gathers to see what's going into this gigantic drink.
PDA says "i don't want ANYTHING in this cup that isn't booze!"
the bartender scoops ice into the cup.
PDA: "NO! POUR THAT FUCKIN' ICE OUT!"
bartender: "i have to charge more without the..."
PDA: "PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH"
bartender: "are you..."
PDA: "PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!"
so, the bartender pours ice out into the sink and sets the gigantic cup on the bar, and
motions for us to choose what we're putting into the thing...
our crowd gathers closer to see what our choices are.
PDA begins pointing randomly at bottles, and switching every so often.
our crowd would count along the shots.
i don't have any recollection what exactly was in this drink. i do recall
there being something like 12 shots of tequilla, and i know there were mint shnapps,
but the rest is a mystery. PDA demanded it be filled to the rim! it was. we could
not lift it off the bar without spilling it, so the first few sips had to be hovered.
PDA had one sip to see what it tasted like, and assured me that it was somehow delicious!
he also declined sharing any more of it with me as per this statement:
PDA: "i just want to taste it, and to have the satisfaction of having bought my friend
the most expensive drink anyone has ever had in this retched place!"
the drink was, to my surprise as well, in fact, delicious! the overwhelming tequilla
tremors were quickly covered up by the schnapps, and some sort of liquers that seemed
to be protecting me from instantly redecorating the bar with my stomach lining.
i remember the first few sips semi-vividly, then nothing.
everything further, up until the point of my somehow surviving, are recounted from others
that were there. i do not remember a single thing from here on, until the part where i
woke up. i truly believe i should not be alive. here's what i was told happened next:
apparently, i made several attempts at talking to other patrons at the bar, falling each time,
but not spilling a drop of my new best friend. i am told i guarded it like it was the holy
grail.
i cared less about bruising my ass, legs, whatever else.
people kept helping me up, but the bouncers carried me(literally) back to my seat.
they asked my friends to keep me at the table and to get me home safely soon.
i was then explained that i continuously slumped further in my chair as i made several
attempts at speaking to PDA. it is speculated that i was trying to thank him for the evening,
though i was not able to formulate any actual words. so, i grunted and gestured for a while
before giving up, at which point i made it back to the floor. well, half of me. i am told
that i managed to balance partly on my tilted chair, and partly propped on my elbow of my
non-drink hand while i finished the last drop, then tried to lick and suck more drops out of
the cup. yes, i was in fact, licking the cup at this point!
the bartender that had taken very good care of us all night came over to check on me, and
laughing anounced that they had written down the contents of our expeditious elixor, and
thought
it only appropriate to let me name it. i, still unable to speak, and still licking at the
inside of the cup, did not respond. PDA announced that the drink is called "I CAN'T BELIEVE
IT'S NOT JAVEX!"
and so it was. until the closing of Gargoyles two years later, above the bar were the
words "gargoyles' most expensive drink: I can't believe it's not javex - $54.50 per cup"
they put this dead center above all the other drinks. PDA was quite proud.
my friends trippled up to help carry a very floppy steve down the stairs and out the door
to a cab. it would seem that the cab driver would not take me home unless someone came with
me. none of friends believed they could manage alone, so PDA and linz took on the task of
propping me up between my screen door and the wooden door to my place, ringing the doorbell,
and fleeing before my now angry roomates open the door to my deadlike body crashing onto the
floor of our hallway. they carried me up the stairs and dragged me into my room.
the following, i remember. mostly.:
i woke up sometime in the early evening the nex day. at least, it might have been the next
day. i'm not entirely certain on that one. my nose was bleeding profusely, and i ruined
a blanket. my pillowcase was fine, as i hadn't made it that far. my torso, head, and one
arm were on the bed, the rest of me kneeling on the floor like i'm waiting for my beheading.
i felt the swell. not a good kind of swell either. the very bad kind. i made it as far as
my garbage can, about a foot from where i was kneeling and groped around for some plastic
grocery bags while i hurled most of my insides into the trash. i had just managed to tie
that bag up before starting on the second, which i almost filled. i grabbed a shirt, i think
it was a shirt, from my bedroom floor to clean off my puke laden face of its current
viscosity. deciding that the shirt was now ownership of the drink, i added it to the grocery
bag
and tied it up. i could smell and taste nothing but this drink for roughly two weeks!
holy shit!
surprised to be alive,
-Sleeve-
contained below. i may leave names of friends out completely, except
for linz, as i honestly cannot remember exactly who was with us.
i do know that it started with five of us. one of them was linz.
there is one friend in particular who will be referenced more than
the others as he was integral to my hideously awful attempt at being a person.
for the sake of anonymity, i will not use his real name, but what
we called him for the night, but abreviated: "PDA"
the "PD" stands for "Pimp Daddy", as he was fliffin'!
Me and linz were hanging out at a coffee house enjoying a hot cup
and conversation with a few others who frequented the place with us,
when the door bursts open. this grabs our attention as this is not how
one normally opens the door to the coffee place. it was early evening.
the whole place turns to see what's up. it is PDA. he begins pointing
at us, one by one, and stating loudly "YOU, YOU, YOU... YOU, AND YOU! LET'S
GO!"
without knowing at all what is going on, but responding to his stern, we
leave our coffees at our table, and follow PDA out the door.
he leads us down the street, and around the corner, and we continue
down the next street.
linz: "what's up?"
PDA: "THERE'S NO TIME!"
me: "can you tell us while we walk?"
PDA: "NO! THERE'S NO TIME!!!"
the five of us obey, as he seems to be serious. we hadn't seen him for a few months
as he was away for work, and we were not sure what he might have gotten
himself into. i just hoped he wasn't inciting a brawl. thankfully, it was not
a brawl at all, but a bar, that he was bringing us to. a rather empty bar, on
a monday night just past 7:00. We enter O'leary's pub, and he tells the bartender
he'll be right back, and leads us to the patio section, and instructs us to sit.
we do. he leaves frantically, and comes back a few minutes later with two pitchers
of beer. he tells us to leave them. we are confused, but we leave them alone.
the bartender comes a few minutes later with two more pitchers.
PDA insists we still not touch. ok. we don't. there is still no speaking.
we are all a little worried that something is wrong with him.
the bartender comes back again with two more pitchers and then again
with 6 glasses.
we wait.
PDA: "THERE! NOW WE ALL HAVE ONE! LET'S DRINK!"
we then pour beer and begin asking questions. he finally lets us in
on what is going on. He had gone away for three months to work in a remote
location where he told us the town slogan should be "A WHOLE LOTTA NOTHIN'!"
he was making a high wage to do this, but had nowhere to spend it, and now
he wanted to have some fun. we offered to chip in on the drinks, but he
insisted we accept whatever he spent on us as a gift. we drink.
his insisting became yelling "PAH!!" and pushing his hand into our faces for
the rest of the night if we did not accept his offer to pay for everything. he
was taking his friends out for drinks. his treat. that is that.
one of us: "well, we don't want you to spend your who..."
PDA: "PAH!!!"
PDA keeps checking his watch like he's waiting for the new year or something, but
it was summer, and nowhere close to midnight, so we knew it wasn't that.
we asked a few times, but he changed the subject, and told us to drink up.
we all drink and chat for almost an hour, when he finally tells us, again, "IT'S TIME!"
we ask him if his water broke, and other jokes, and he yells, "FINISH YER DAMN DRINKS! IT'S
TIME!"
we finish our pitchers as quickly as we can manage, and PDA runs off the patio and around the
corner, flailing his arms wildly.
we follow our manic friend to a place called "gargoyles". it is no longer a bar, thank fuck!
they had a drink special on mondays. we knew what was happening. sort of.
Ten cent draught: (because i can type it faster, i may begin to spell it "draft")
you get in a lineup and give the bartender 40 cents, and he serves you 4 single draft at once.
this goes on for an hour, and then raises to 50 cents, then up a quarter each hour after
that until it becomes full price, which was 1.75 for a single draft.
you will see this drink special on some later blogs when i remember what happened.
we all get into the lineup as we know the drill. we have done this many times.
PDA stands with us for a moment, then says "NO! WE ARE NOT DOING THIS! WE ARE GOING
UPSTAIRS TO BUY REAL BEER AND LOOK DOWN ON THE REST OF THESE DIRTBAGS!..."
and off he goes. we follow.
he brings us past the dancefloor and up the stairs to the other bar, where he goes
to the bartender and hands him a 10.
PDA: (introduces himself)"we are going to be your best customers tonight! please make
sure the bouncers take good care of us!"
bartender: "you got it! what are you having?"
PDA: "first, i'd like you to put that ten into your pocket!"
bartender: "thank you. what can i get you?"
PDA orders us a few rounds of bottled beer, and keeps looking down at the lineup
downstairs, occasionally saying things like "look at all those douchebags! we could
be THEM!"
normally, we ARE them. we take turns guarding the table, hitting the dancefloor
a bit, and coming back up. we are all very much sauced!
i am at somewhere around a full pitcher, and 3 or 4 bottled beer at this point.
PDA begins asking "WHO'S DOING A SHOT WITH ME?" everyone declines.
PDA insists "SOMEONE is doing a shot with me!"
PDA"STEVE WILL DO A SHOT WITH ME!!!"
me: "okay, i'll do it, but let me pay."
PDA: "PAH!"
he runs up to the bar ahead of me and pre-pays for our shots while he
waits for me to shamble over.
i get to the bar and he exclaims "look at you. you're all repressed! GIVE THIS MAN
A BLOWJOB! i'll have one too!"
this drink, usually referred to as a girly shot, is bailey's irish cream and kahlua.
PDA and i are normally not shot people, so he was going easy on me.
PDA: "that was over too fast for something so delicious! two more, but make
them biglier!"
bartender: "okay. the full drink costs..."
PDA: "PAH!!!" (yes, he even started doing this to the bartender)
PDA had been tipping big all night, so he got away with being an ass.
we drank full glass blowjobs and got a beer to wash them down with.
he decided that i needed a bigger drink. i told him i didn't need any
more drinks, whatsoever.
PDA: "PAAAAAAHHHH!!! i'll find you a bigger one after a bit. enjoy your beer!"
i did enjoy my beer, and hit the dancefloor again, until my last couple drinks
kicked in a little better, and i started getting wobbly. i fell twice that i recall,
and bumped a few people, so i decided it was best to get back to our table.
i had a hard time up the stairs, so one of the bouncers helped me, and reminded me
where we were sitting. i suspect PDA tipped the bouncers at some point also. i should
have been led to an exit.
i get halfway to where our table is when i lose my equilibrium completely and fall onto
a neighboring table full of girls. i knocked over the table as well as all of their drinks,
landing in one of their laps. i think they would have been more mad about their drinks had
i not made them laugh when i started yelling "IT'S RAINING MEN!!!"
PDA runs over yelling "DON'T HURT HIM! I DID THIS TO HIM! I'LL REPLACE YOUR DRINKS!"
he did replace their drinks and the bouncer who helped me up the stairs came over to
see if the ladies were ok. they accepted the drinks, told the bouncer they were not mad
at us, and he (bouncer)told PDA that normally, he would kick a person out after that display.
PDA thanks him for letting me stay, and they shake hands.
i'm not sure if it was mine or not, but when i finally made it back to our table, i had a beer
that i started sipping on slowly. i was ashamed of myself, but drunk enough to forget that
very quickly. PDA keeps taking my beer from me to see if it's empty yet. he just takes it
out of my hand, holds it up to his face and puts it back. i knew what was going on. sort of.
we hobble back to the bar where there appears to be a lineup. they all move out of our way.
they had come to check out our antics. word was getting around that we were cracking up the
bartender and that PDA had been buying random people random shots all night. this did not
surprise me at all.
bartender: "back for that bigger drink?"
PDA: "yes! no more of that shittly littly glass!"
bartender: "how about this one?" (single draft glass)
PDA: "bigger."
bartender: "do you know how this is going to ..."
PDA: "PAAAHH!"
bartender: "this one?" (double draft glass)
PDA: "bigger."
bartender: "okay, but this is going to c...."
PDA: "PAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
bartender: "....?"(big beer stein)
PDA: "....... not bad..... how about THAT ONE!" (he is pointing behind the bartender at a
shelf containing a giant plastic mcDonald's cup. the big ones that have hockey players on them
and shit like that, and you can collect them. they are HUGE!)
bartender: "... oh, no, that's not one of our cups. that's just leftover from one of our
bouncers' lunch this afternoon."
PDA: "we'll take it!"
bartender: "that could get really pricey, boys!"
PDA: "PAAAAAAH!"
bartender: "okay"
He washes the cup, and a crowd gathers to see what's going into this gigantic drink.
PDA says "i don't want ANYTHING in this cup that isn't booze!"
the bartender scoops ice into the cup.
PDA: "NO! POUR THAT FUCKIN' ICE OUT!"
bartender: "i have to charge more without the..."
PDA: "PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH"
bartender: "are you..."
PDA: "PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!"
so, the bartender pours ice out into the sink and sets the gigantic cup on the bar, and
motions for us to choose what we're putting into the thing...
our crowd gathers closer to see what our choices are.
PDA begins pointing randomly at bottles, and switching every so often.
our crowd would count along the shots.
i don't have any recollection what exactly was in this drink. i do recall
there being something like 12 shots of tequilla, and i know there were mint shnapps,
but the rest is a mystery. PDA demanded it be filled to the rim! it was. we could
not lift it off the bar without spilling it, so the first few sips had to be hovered.
PDA had one sip to see what it tasted like, and assured me that it was somehow delicious!
he also declined sharing any more of it with me as per this statement:
PDA: "i just want to taste it, and to have the satisfaction of having bought my friend
the most expensive drink anyone has ever had in this retched place!"
the drink was, to my surprise as well, in fact, delicious! the overwhelming tequilla
tremors were quickly covered up by the schnapps, and some sort of liquers that seemed
to be protecting me from instantly redecorating the bar with my stomach lining.
i remember the first few sips semi-vividly, then nothing.
everything further, up until the point of my somehow surviving, are recounted from others
that were there. i do not remember a single thing from here on, until the part where i
woke up. i truly believe i should not be alive. here's what i was told happened next:
apparently, i made several attempts at talking to other patrons at the bar, falling each time,
but not spilling a drop of my new best friend. i am told i guarded it like it was the holy
grail.
i cared less about bruising my ass, legs, whatever else.
people kept helping me up, but the bouncers carried me(literally) back to my seat.
they asked my friends to keep me at the table and to get me home safely soon.
i was then explained that i continuously slumped further in my chair as i made several
attempts at speaking to PDA. it is speculated that i was trying to thank him for the evening,
though i was not able to formulate any actual words. so, i grunted and gestured for a while
before giving up, at which point i made it back to the floor. well, half of me. i am told
that i managed to balance partly on my tilted chair, and partly propped on my elbow of my
non-drink hand while i finished the last drop, then tried to lick and suck more drops out of
the cup. yes, i was in fact, licking the cup at this point!
the bartender that had taken very good care of us all night came over to check on me, and
laughing anounced that they had written down the contents of our expeditious elixor, and
thought
it only appropriate to let me name it. i, still unable to speak, and still licking at the
inside of the cup, did not respond. PDA announced that the drink is called "I CAN'T BELIEVE
IT'S NOT JAVEX!"
and so it was. until the closing of Gargoyles two years later, above the bar were the
words "gargoyles' most expensive drink: I can't believe it's not javex - $54.50 per cup"
they put this dead center above all the other drinks. PDA was quite proud.
my friends trippled up to help carry a very floppy steve down the stairs and out the door
to a cab. it would seem that the cab driver would not take me home unless someone came with
me. none of friends believed they could manage alone, so PDA and linz took on the task of
propping me up between my screen door and the wooden door to my place, ringing the doorbell,
and fleeing before my now angry roomates open the door to my deadlike body crashing onto the
floor of our hallway. they carried me up the stairs and dragged me into my room.
the following, i remember. mostly.:
i woke up sometime in the early evening the nex day. at least, it might have been the next
day. i'm not entirely certain on that one. my nose was bleeding profusely, and i ruined
a blanket. my pillowcase was fine, as i hadn't made it that far. my torso, head, and one
arm were on the bed, the rest of me kneeling on the floor like i'm waiting for my beheading.
i felt the swell. not a good kind of swell either. the very bad kind. i made it as far as
my garbage can, about a foot from where i was kneeling and groped around for some plastic
grocery bags while i hurled most of my insides into the trash. i had just managed to tie
that bag up before starting on the second, which i almost filled. i grabbed a shirt, i think
it was a shirt, from my bedroom floor to clean off my puke laden face of its current
viscosity. deciding that the shirt was now ownership of the drink, i added it to the grocery
bag
and tied it up. i could smell and taste nothing but this drink for roughly two weeks!
holy shit!
surprised to be alive,
-Sleeve-
Friday, January 9, 2009
Getting rid of the girl... another drunken tale...
So, a friend of mine brings me to Wal-Mart for some reason i don't recall,
as i'm hung over as all fuck. While i wait for him to find whatever it was
we were there for, i start looking at the discount shit-CDs for $5.99 to
see how funny the titles were. titles like "waves of beauty", "songs for your
sixties", and shit like that.
this goes on for a while. i make fun of a bunch, then i spot a quite
nice looking femployee bringing carts by where i was standing. she was
wearing very tight pants that complimented her hips and legs nicely.
i enjoyed her shape from what i could see. i had a feeling i'd like her
ass, and was determined to find out.
to do this at a better vantage point, i half knelt and pretended i was still
checking CDs so i could look her right in the ass as she passed.
turns out i was right and i got an eyeful of tight-panted-roasted-rump the
likes of which i liked. she had a ways to go til her destination and i would
have had this nice vision for a good 2 more minutes had she not turned around
and caught me looking. this story gets better, then worse. stay tuned.
so, i inform my friend of my crime and how i got caught. he makes fun of me
and we nickname her "sellsforless", and head to the liquor store. my drink
tally is somewhere around 7 beer from a 12er and leads us to heading to a bar
down the street called O'leary's. it was open mic night, and we signed up and play a few
songs. this gets us drink tickets, of which i ended up with two extra as the guys
playing the drums and bass with us were not drinking this particular evening.
i spotted sellsforless with a not too shabby blonde friend who another pal of
mine happened to know. i tell him the story, and he offers to bring them over
to "smooth it all out". He catches the blonde's attention and calls her over.
her friend came along, and we were introduced. before i could make any attempts
to save face, sellsforless, while shaking my hand, says "you were at wal-mart earlier!"
i said "yes. yes i was..." i waited for her to ask if i got a good look and give me
snarky looks. this did not happen. instead, she said "i'm sooo sorry if i bumped you
with the carts when i passed you! i was in such a hurry, and didn't think they would
hit you, but when i saw you looking at me, i knew i had to have! i felt sooooo bad!
i'm sorry!"
this, i was not expecting. it was like she was doing me a favor. i looked her in
the eyes, and said "don't be sorry. you didn't hit me at all. i was looking at your
ass! and a fine one it is!..." i waited for a slap, but did not recieve one. instead,
i got "oh, good! i was worried cause i thought you were cute and i looked back to
check you out, and when i saw you looking at me, i thought for sure i hit you!"
so, i reiterate, "nope! it was for the ass!"
we chatting until the bar closed, but this was not a good thing. she sucked at it!
our conversation couldn't have been less stimulating without introducing chloroform.
and i am rarely bored, especially when intoxicated...
but she still had that ass, so i continued flirting. i am a terrible human being.
I was living alone in a building where my landlord was louder and drunker than me, and
lived next door, so my place was the common after-party for my crew of mysanthropes, and
invited her back, as well as half the bar. (half the bar this evening means roughly 30
people, most of which i knew.)
i somehow got her to my room, where we get naked and have some fun. to my surprise, the
only interruption was her blonde friend, who now knows what i, and her friend, look like
naked.
this does not stop us. she tells blondie she's fine, and she'll tell her about it after.
this statement tells me i should not stop. her ass was as smooth as it looked in the
wal-mart tight pants, and she was just as tight where it counted, and a good kisser as well.
i has a fun night.
i run into blondie a couple days later, and she informs me that sellsforless had a great time,
and that EVERYTHING was to her specifications, and that she can't wait to see me again.
and yes, she did use those words, and she did emphasize EVERYTHING.
i did not particularly want this, as any of our conversation that wasn't flirting wasn't
very uninteresting. the phone calls start. i don't recall giving her my number, but i was
well seasoned, to say the least, and i don't even remember her leaving my place.
well, it turned out she was the relationship type, and was willing to sleep with me to
seal the deal of getting me to "go out" with her. i decided that the very worst thing
i could do was to tell her i wasn't interested in a relationship, but still try to sleep
with her some more. this is what i did. whenever she talked nice, i said something awful,
to make sure that she would be somewhat disgusted with me, but still want my cock.
this did not work. she wanted a relationship. i needed a plan.
a female friend of mine was in a similar situation. she took a guy home who now thought
he was in love with her, and wanted to date her, but she just wanted throw-away sex.
we exchanged stories, and came up with the best idea EVER! operation bird-rock!
OPERATION BIRD-ROCK:
we set up a night of partying, and if these two invite themselves along, we, even at the
risk of losing the sex, flirt with each other instead of them! we are very good friends, and
if it came down to touching or making out, so be it! this would deter them for sure, and
we kill two birds with one stone! end of problem, and we don't even have to actually say
"anyway, i find you dull!"
again, i am a terrible human being.
this worked like a charm for my female friend, but sellsforless didn't show up that night.
so, i had my problem for a while longer. until one night that i decided i'd take her up
on hanging out another time, and i hadn't had sex in a while, and told all of my friends
not to show up at my place this time because i'm "planning to be sexing, and won't be
answering
my phone or door!"
sellsforless and i get some makeouts and groping in for a bit, when all of a sudden,
a good 40 people pile into not only my apartment, but half of them directly into my
bedroom, where we were in mid-grope. i let go of her tit, and start laughing.
me: "didn't i ask all of you to NOT come over tonight?!?..."
one of them: "yeah, but we brought beer!"
me: "i fucking love you guys! you know that, right?"
they hand both of us a beer, and we hang out for a bit, when another female
friend of mine comes to sit with me, and out of nowhere, (and it's not even
the birdrock friend, nor does she usually do this)starts feeling me up, and
kissing my neck, with sellsforless on the other side of me watching this. her
hand WAS on my right leg when my female pal starting running her hand up my
left leg. sellsforless takes her hand away, and finishes her beer as fast as
she can down it, and gets up to look for her coat. she said goodbye to me, but
i just kinda waved as i was enjoying my neck being licked. i never heard from
her again. once she left, my friend stopped licking my neck and took her hands
away from my crotch. i asked her what brought on the odd friskyness, and she
said "i didn't like that girl with you, so i wanted her to go away!"
i laughed very hard at this and let everyone in on the operative. the party
continued, without sex, but with good friends who are accepting of my horrible
motives.
-Sleeve-
as i'm hung over as all fuck. While i wait for him to find whatever it was
we were there for, i start looking at the discount shit-CDs for $5.99 to
see how funny the titles were. titles like "waves of beauty", "songs for your
sixties", and shit like that.
this goes on for a while. i make fun of a bunch, then i spot a quite
nice looking femployee bringing carts by where i was standing. she was
wearing very tight pants that complimented her hips and legs nicely.
i enjoyed her shape from what i could see. i had a feeling i'd like her
ass, and was determined to find out.
to do this at a better vantage point, i half knelt and pretended i was still
checking CDs so i could look her right in the ass as she passed.
turns out i was right and i got an eyeful of tight-panted-roasted-rump the
likes of which i liked. she had a ways to go til her destination and i would
have had this nice vision for a good 2 more minutes had she not turned around
and caught me looking. this story gets better, then worse. stay tuned.
so, i inform my friend of my crime and how i got caught. he makes fun of me
and we nickname her "sellsforless", and head to the liquor store. my drink
tally is somewhere around 7 beer from a 12er and leads us to heading to a bar
down the street called O'leary's. it was open mic night, and we signed up and play a few
songs. this gets us drink tickets, of which i ended up with two extra as the guys
playing the drums and bass with us were not drinking this particular evening.
i spotted sellsforless with a not too shabby blonde friend who another pal of
mine happened to know. i tell him the story, and he offers to bring them over
to "smooth it all out". He catches the blonde's attention and calls her over.
her friend came along, and we were introduced. before i could make any attempts
to save face, sellsforless, while shaking my hand, says "you were at wal-mart earlier!"
i said "yes. yes i was..." i waited for her to ask if i got a good look and give me
snarky looks. this did not happen. instead, she said "i'm sooo sorry if i bumped you
with the carts when i passed you! i was in such a hurry, and didn't think they would
hit you, but when i saw you looking at me, i knew i had to have! i felt sooooo bad!
i'm sorry!"
this, i was not expecting. it was like she was doing me a favor. i looked her in
the eyes, and said "don't be sorry. you didn't hit me at all. i was looking at your
ass! and a fine one it is!..." i waited for a slap, but did not recieve one. instead,
i got "oh, good! i was worried cause i thought you were cute and i looked back to
check you out, and when i saw you looking at me, i thought for sure i hit you!"
so, i reiterate, "nope! it was for the ass!"
we chatting until the bar closed, but this was not a good thing. she sucked at it!
our conversation couldn't have been less stimulating without introducing chloroform.
and i am rarely bored, especially when intoxicated...
but she still had that ass, so i continued flirting. i am a terrible human being.
I was living alone in a building where my landlord was louder and drunker than me, and
lived next door, so my place was the common after-party for my crew of mysanthropes, and
invited her back, as well as half the bar. (half the bar this evening means roughly 30
people, most of which i knew.)
i somehow got her to my room, where we get naked and have some fun. to my surprise, the
only interruption was her blonde friend, who now knows what i, and her friend, look like
naked.
this does not stop us. she tells blondie she's fine, and she'll tell her about it after.
this statement tells me i should not stop. her ass was as smooth as it looked in the
wal-mart tight pants, and she was just as tight where it counted, and a good kisser as well.
i has a fun night.
i run into blondie a couple days later, and she informs me that sellsforless had a great time,
and that EVERYTHING was to her specifications, and that she can't wait to see me again.
and yes, she did use those words, and she did emphasize EVERYTHING.
i did not particularly want this, as any of our conversation that wasn't flirting wasn't
very uninteresting. the phone calls start. i don't recall giving her my number, but i was
well seasoned, to say the least, and i don't even remember her leaving my place.
well, it turned out she was the relationship type, and was willing to sleep with me to
seal the deal of getting me to "go out" with her. i decided that the very worst thing
i could do was to tell her i wasn't interested in a relationship, but still try to sleep
with her some more. this is what i did. whenever she talked nice, i said something awful,
to make sure that she would be somewhat disgusted with me, but still want my cock.
this did not work. she wanted a relationship. i needed a plan.
a female friend of mine was in a similar situation. she took a guy home who now thought
he was in love with her, and wanted to date her, but she just wanted throw-away sex.
we exchanged stories, and came up with the best idea EVER! operation bird-rock!
OPERATION BIRD-ROCK:
we set up a night of partying, and if these two invite themselves along, we, even at the
risk of losing the sex, flirt with each other instead of them! we are very good friends, and
if it came down to touching or making out, so be it! this would deter them for sure, and
we kill two birds with one stone! end of problem, and we don't even have to actually say
"anyway, i find you dull!"
again, i am a terrible human being.
this worked like a charm for my female friend, but sellsforless didn't show up that night.
so, i had my problem for a while longer. until one night that i decided i'd take her up
on hanging out another time, and i hadn't had sex in a while, and told all of my friends
not to show up at my place this time because i'm "planning to be sexing, and won't be
answering
my phone or door!"
sellsforless and i get some makeouts and groping in for a bit, when all of a sudden,
a good 40 people pile into not only my apartment, but half of them directly into my
bedroom, where we were in mid-grope. i let go of her tit, and start laughing.
me: "didn't i ask all of you to NOT come over tonight?!?..."
one of them: "yeah, but we brought beer!"
me: "i fucking love you guys! you know that, right?"
they hand both of us a beer, and we hang out for a bit, when another female
friend of mine comes to sit with me, and out of nowhere, (and it's not even
the birdrock friend, nor does she usually do this)starts feeling me up, and
kissing my neck, with sellsforless on the other side of me watching this. her
hand WAS on my right leg when my female pal starting running her hand up my
left leg. sellsforless takes her hand away, and finishes her beer as fast as
she can down it, and gets up to look for her coat. she said goodbye to me, but
i just kinda waved as i was enjoying my neck being licked. i never heard from
her again. once she left, my friend stopped licking my neck and took her hands
away from my crotch. i asked her what brought on the odd friskyness, and she
said "i didn't like that girl with you, so i wanted her to go away!"
i laughed very hard at this and let everyone in on the operative. the party
continued, without sex, but with good friends who are accepting of my horrible
motives.
-Sleeve-
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