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Friday Bad Craziness: A summary
2001-02-26 - 15:01:47


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Garish lights and unruly surprises...americana, is it as tastless as i thought?...the cup is not half full, nor half empty, but misplaced, and full of absinthe, wherever it is...can this lighting get anymore worse than it already is?...fiendish intensity, just a good american boy looking for a good time, fucked up in the wild, wild west again, amidst a river of the banal.

It started out, more or less, like any other friday night. Watching my favorite hockey team with my brother, his fiance, and my roomates, kicking it like always. There were so many harbingers, so many omens, I knew this would be a taste of bad craziness even without the pocket full of devil sugar cubes.

Earlier in the day, my brother had been visited by a multi-year flame from the past, a neurotic Polish girl now all grown up and married to be a neurotic reporter for the CBS affiliate in Atlanta. This would be omen #1 that the warped karma was in town, and wanting to dance with me. I pay attention to the subtle clues that life gives me, as do we all, whether we conciously admit it or not...

And as the games finished, I whipped out the old razor sharp leatherman, and attempted to carve a hunk in two for Don and me, cutting my self a bit in the process, bleeding a bit with no stop. hmmm. the cube I pulled out had a little tape on it...perhaps there actually was a double hit or two in the the passel, and it wasn't just a bullshit story to jack up the prices.

We gobbled up our shares of the LSD and I went to finish washing up for the nights festivities, bleeding all over the place, and in the process, smearing some of the blood into my hair and face, invisibly so, but the Native American symbolisim appealed to me.

It set on with a quickness. Within fifteen minutes I caught the first rising vibes, but was unwilling to admit it.

So we went bowling, of all fuckin' places to be.

It was a side show from the start. Don couldn't get in because he left his driver's license at a liquor store the previous day, and when he realized his mistake the next day, it had been closed down by the city for violations. So we snuck him in with the band. I ended up buying his girl's way into the place with a well placed twenty-spot. It seemed the right and easy thing to do, and the waiting started to wear on my composure.

I sat down next to Tony, who is a character and a half. Tony had a hit single in the eighties, toured around the world, then got out of the racket...bought a house, married his lead singer/girlfriend, had a kid, and the whole nine.

We rapped for a bit, and he honed up to being really stoned. Friends came up to greet me. I made eye contact with Rebecca across the bar, and she looked good, the LSD giving my eyes a particular gleem, and my mind a particular fascination with all things sans bowling.

Noticing our "moment" ,Tony leans over and whispers hurriedly into my ear,"They call her 'flatbacker' that one there."

"Really?"

Tony descends into mumbling.

"Really. Are you fucking with me?"

To which he had no answer.

Rookie mistake on my part, being here. Don't mingle with the non-trippers, let alone, such a foray into banal hell, with horrible flourescent lights and crudeness.

So there was a good deal of people not knowing how to handle me and my two tripping friends. I ended up sitting down, and providing my brother with cheap therapy to no end. That fucker needs to get over himself. He's like a needy child, and imagines himself so special and such a mystery, that no solution I provided him with could possibly be applicable to him.

He ranted on and on about his best friend, Thomas, who just got married, and had cut a lot of time spent with my brother that was previously in the agenda. My brother and Thomas's wife have a weird territorial battle. Everyonce in a while, he would get upset and shout things like,"I love him." or "I find a great deal of my heart resides with him." (whatever the hell that means.)

I have to admit, getting in touch with feelings in a bowling alley is not a good idea.

Between the incessant bowling nonesense, and my brother it would be fair to say that I was queered out. Top that with me making eyes at every pretty girl, (and doing well), and the clique pretty much just watching me, I felt a powerful urge to just leave.

So I did. I hustled my brother out of there, arranged rides for my roomates with that selerity of thought and action that LSD provides when you have a definte goal to achieve, and went to my brother's house (not the best possible plan, once again, but my planning had ceased once I took the hit of LSD), and proceeded to record some music.

Playing guitar, plugged into headphones to hear the mix while tripping, is just about one of the coolest things in the world. We jammed and recordexd for several hours.

Apparently, a bunch of people went back to my house, including Becky and Shelia, but I was not around.

Shelia must have felt the competition from Becky, because at one point, Shelia went and crashed in my room,(throwing a sort-of bluff out there.)

I did not know this, coming home at four a.m. and high as hell. Actually, I rued the fact that I wouldn't be fooling around that night.

I got some cookies(hungry, but couldn't eat because it felt to weird) and some water, turned on the TV (rugrats? at 4:00a.m.?) and went to grab something from my room.

There were a pair of womens shoes by the stairs to my room.

hmmmmm. *sniff* *sniff*

What's this?

I sniffed the air for a scent of perfume, some clue as to what, if anything was in my room. My senses were alive.

Nothing.

I crept into my room, and not turning on a light, sniffed quietly again. Nothing.

Must be Shelia. But...what the fuck?

I pounced on a corner of the bed to find a foot. No shit. I crawled upon the bed like a puppy. If I had a tail it would have wagged.

So...you can guess what happended from there, pretty much. I did actually depart from the fucking, at a point or two, in my addled state, may have actually turned from fucking to making love.

But that is no matter. Its all confusing to me, but what the hell.

I went upstairs for a smoke, because I do not like sleeping with her at all, which must be a sign, and took some notes on the evening. At six a.m. I went to sleep, and slept until 3:00 p.m.

I suppose my whole goal was to find out the potency of this stuff, anyway.

A lame fuckaround, but a good time was had by all.

 

 

 

 


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