My stomach HATES me right now....
...Lawdy Lawdy, what a fucking weekend. So, friday night was pretty chill. basically blew a good portion of the paycheck on some new tunes, but! it's not going to break the bank in any sense of the word, 'casue I had gotten my bonus, so I needed to seriously have some fun with it (but then, should one ever really be SERIOUS about their fun? hmmm). The finances are partially what have been kicking me in the arse, in the emotional sense, and I just felt like some good, hearty shopping might help cure those mid-winter/I am broke as fuck blues. So, yeah, that was my friday....
...saturday, however, was a whole 'nother story. Ended up having to work in my Fairfax, VA store for the day. Man, what a great fucking time. So, there is this chick, Ellen....Ellen is the cat's meow. She is the real fucking deal. Loud, boisterous, charasmatic, FUNNNN, and she wraps it all around her little sing-song banter- which she felt the need to use as a means of communication from across the store to me on several different occassions that day. Well, it was quite convienent that I worked there that afternoon, as later that same evening, I was to bartend Ellen's art opening at her home. Jesus Christ!, that girl cannot only throw a great fucking party (live music, fab, creative people, good food that SHE prepared the entire night before and a plethora of alcohol that would send just about any alcoholic into a stuper upon laying eyes on it...), the girl parties like a champ! It was towards the end of the evening that she and I started going shot for shot on the Whiskey. It was about her thrid shot in (after my making her probably eight mixed drinks for her that night) that her speech began to resemble that of a slurred, slushy babble, where facial expressions were the only TRUE way to decipher the things spewing from her mouth. However, for some strange reason, when crazy Ellen broke back into sing-song banter, she made a world of sense. How I even remember this is beyond me, as I had made myself close to MAAAYYYBE nine or ten mixed drinks, on top of shots of whiskey, on top of shots of tequilla, my go-to drink. Oh, did I mention Ellen kept me high all evening too, starting AT the store, no, IN the store right next to the turpentine....smart, huh? Yeah, the rationalizations of early twenty-somethings is awfully scary, wouldn't you agree?
So, before slumping over, and warrenting the over-the-shoulder exit, made possible by her boyfreind, ellen sloppily tripped over her own feet, and went flying into a wall, where *Thud/crash/bang/boom* she slamed into the string of christmas lights, actually breaking one. I checked her head, it was only wet from her drink. Oh, did I mention, the art was fucking amazing? I passed out on the floor, but still only managed two hours of sleep.....
...And then that leaves us with sunday, Super Bowl sunday. Now, I have never been one to eat up the pandimonium surrounding this monumental event, however, after my "pre-gaming" the night before, I felt it only necessary to keep up the momentum
Meeting up with a co worker in DC, Dupont area, actually, we headed over to the Brickskeller. And, might I point out that we are your typical americans. Faced with the choice of one out of 8 gazillion kinds of beer, we chose Miller Light. Ahh, yes, nothing like a nice little bottle of white trash to celebrate this american tradition we call super bowl. So, after watching Mick Jagger prance, not saunter, but prance, as I assured my commrad, we made a bee line for our next and final destination of the evening, The Big hunt. A bar that I was introduced to about two years ago, ABOUT, has seemed to morph into this meat head factory, more or less. Here, where it seemed the 'alt crowd' or just social rejects could gather and mesh, we were now begining to see the traditions of fake tans, fake boobs, bleached teeth and rediculous amounts of hair tossing take over. I actually met and drank with one of the bartenders at this joint. Her name was Martina. We instantly clicked. Two girls, sharing a love for Art Nouveau (we BOTH have Mucha tattoos, BOTH on our left arm and BOTH from his autumn series 
) giggled and snickered at the Taradise's (name given to those resembling the lovely, but mostly plastic Tara Reid by the bartenders there), played rad music on the Juke and just all around shared a lot of the same ideals and persuits in life. In fact, schmoozing it up with the staff helped out on the final detail, yknow, that minor thing called the tab. Yeah, we got comped a rediculous amount of alcohol. Gotta love being a social butterfly.
So, Martina and I said our goodbyes, and promises of my humble return were surely made. The co worker and I made our way to the metro for the astonishingly quick ride BACK to our stop on the red line. I was loud, he laughed at my rediculous outlandsih humor. It was cool. However, I had NO idea what was in store for me for the rest of the evening....
Now, I am going to warn you, after reading this, you are either going to be totally disgusted with/by me, or wanting to High Five me like a mother fucker, but to be honest, I don't care either way, 'cause I had a fucking amazing time....
So, once the co worker headed up the creeky metro escalator, and after I had pee'd for fifteen minutes, I found myself making my way towards this guy...He had about four inches worth of mohawk that he had favorably dyed blue. Seemingly frantic, he apparently had fallen asleep when trying to get from the red line to the orange line, and at this point, had no fucking clue where he was. Well, I was still drunk, and really was only planning on sleeping in my car for an hour to get my head straight. However, even in his nervouseness, he possesed a certain 'cool'. I was intrigued, and as we giggled over the metro map and it's lovely colors, we instantly embraced, like we'd been hanging out all night. I asked him where'd he been all night, as he wondered the same about me. I am not going to say this was love at first sight. No fucking way. But I would certainly atest to lust....
After about fifteen minutes of trying to reason him back to the metro, and myself to my car, I gave up. I wanted to know more about this cat, because dammit, he's got this hair that I just cannot stop looking at (the color and it's vibrancy was fucking amazing) and he just had this contagious laughter, warm, smooth....oh, and his eyes were lime green. Delicious. We went to a local diner for coffee for him and tea for me and the exchange was certainly MORE that anticipated. I was really into what this guy was saying, and he, maybe he was pulling out the stops and tricks, but he seemed rather into the details of my life as well. Oh, I almost forgot that he was kind enough to smoke me up on the way to the diner. said it was the least he could do. Ha!
It was 230 AM and it was time to go in order for him to make a train. We tumbled out of the diner, and pretty much slinked into the car, and that was when it began. A simple hug for thanks turned into a hardcore make out session. Now, I dunno if you guys know this, but the cops like to hang at diners, into the weee hours of the morning, so, it was clear that in order to continue this steamy exchange, the car would need to move....Almost at the metro, my body gave in. I was driving, his lips and teeth and tongue wrapped themselves around the most sensitive of spots, including my neck, ears, and well, another area between the stars on my chest and my sternum
Not able to resist, we parked at a freinds apartment complex, thinking the whole time, I could certainly take this inside, at least to the couch. Well, no. There we were, the boy with the blue mohawk and myself engaging in the most incredible, mind numbing sex I've had in a LONG fucking time. For three hours straight, it was nothing but madness, sweat, awkward switchings on's of the turn signal, windshield wipers and stero volume (hehe, the sound track to the session happened to be the Bouncing Souls's most recent live album.....wow...). It was just so fucking amazing. Needless to say, it was about five am before all was said and done, and then, BOOM, it hit like a ton of bricks, I fucking have to be at work at 8 AM! Shit. So, we jet to the metro, we kiss, for quite sometime, goodbye, plans for this weekend coming were made and I had a smile plastered to my silly face for the rest of the day.
I was late to work, but i didnt fucking care. It was justified. I'd just had the greatest fucking weekend. Ever.
...Lawdy Lawdy, what a fucking weekend. So, friday night was pretty chill. basically blew a good portion of the paycheck on some new tunes, but! it's not going to break the bank in any sense of the word, 'casue I had gotten my bonus, so I needed to seriously have some fun with it (but then, should one ever really be SERIOUS about their fun? hmmm). The finances are partially what have been kicking me in the arse, in the emotional sense, and I just felt like some good, hearty shopping might help cure those mid-winter/I am broke as fuck blues. So, yeah, that was my friday....
...saturday, however, was a whole 'nother story. Ended up having to work in my Fairfax, VA store for the day. Man, what a great fucking time. So, there is this chick, Ellen....Ellen is the cat's meow. She is the real fucking deal. Loud, boisterous, charasmatic, FUNNNN, and she wraps it all around her little sing-song banter- which she felt the need to use as a means of communication from across the store to me on several different occassions that day. Well, it was quite convienent that I worked there that afternoon, as later that same evening, I was to bartend Ellen's art opening at her home. Jesus Christ!, that girl cannot only throw a great fucking party (live music, fab, creative people, good food that SHE prepared the entire night before and a plethora of alcohol that would send just about any alcoholic into a stuper upon laying eyes on it...), the girl parties like a champ! It was towards the end of the evening that she and I started going shot for shot on the Whiskey. It was about her thrid shot in (after my making her probably eight mixed drinks for her that night) that her speech began to resemble that of a slurred, slushy babble, where facial expressions were the only TRUE way to decipher the things spewing from her mouth. However, for some strange reason, when crazy Ellen broke back into sing-song banter, she made a world of sense. How I even remember this is beyond me, as I had made myself close to MAAAYYYBE nine or ten mixed drinks, on top of shots of whiskey, on top of shots of tequilla, my go-to drink. Oh, did I mention Ellen kept me high all evening too, starting AT the store, no, IN the store right next to the turpentine....smart, huh? Yeah, the rationalizations of early twenty-somethings is awfully scary, wouldn't you agree?
So, before slumping over, and warrenting the over-the-shoulder exit, made possible by her boyfreind, ellen sloppily tripped over her own feet, and went flying into a wall, where *Thud/crash/bang/boom* she slamed into the string of christmas lights, actually breaking one. I checked her head, it was only wet from her drink. Oh, did I mention, the art was fucking amazing? I passed out on the floor, but still only managed two hours of sleep.....
...And then that leaves us with sunday, Super Bowl sunday. Now, I have never been one to eat up the pandimonium surrounding this monumental event, however, after my "pre-gaming" the night before, I felt it only necessary to keep up the momentum
Meeting up with a co worker in DC, Dupont area, actually, we headed over to the Brickskeller. And, might I point out that we are your typical americans. Faced with the choice of one out of 8 gazillion kinds of beer, we chose Miller Light. Ahh, yes, nothing like a nice little bottle of white trash to celebrate this american tradition we call super bowl. So, after watching Mick Jagger prance, not saunter, but prance, as I assured my commrad, we made a bee line for our next and final destination of the evening, The Big hunt. A bar that I was introduced to about two years ago, ABOUT, has seemed to morph into this meat head factory, more or less. Here, where it seemed the 'alt crowd' or just social rejects could gather and mesh, we were now begining to see the traditions of fake tans, fake boobs, bleached teeth and rediculous amounts of hair tossing take over. I actually met and drank with one of the bartenders at this joint. Her name was Martina. We instantly clicked. Two girls, sharing a love for Art Nouveau (we BOTH have Mucha tattoos, BOTH on our left arm and BOTH from his autumn series ) giggled and snickered at the Taradise's (name given to those resembling the lovely, but mostly plastic Tara Reid by the bartenders there), played rad music on the Juke and just all around shared a lot of the same ideals and persuits in life. In fact, schmoozing it up with the staff helped out on the final detail, yknow, that minor thing called the tab. Yeah, we got comped a rediculous amount of alcohol. Gotta love being a social butterfly.
So, Martina and I said our goodbyes, and promises of my humble return were surely made. The co worker and I made our way to the metro for the astonishingly quick ride BACK to our stop on the red line. I was loud, he laughed at my rediculous outlandsih humor. It was cool. However, I had NO idea what was in store for me for the rest of the evening....
Now, I am going to warn you, after reading this, you are either going to be totally disgusted with/by me, or wanting to High Five me like a mother fucker, but to be honest, I don't care either way, 'cause I had a fucking amazing time....
So, once the co worker headed up the creeky metro escalator, and after I had pee'd for fifteen minutes, I found myself making my way towards this guy...He had about four inches worth of mohawk that he had favorably dyed blue. Seemingly frantic, he apparently had fallen asleep when trying to get from the red line to the orange line, and at this point, had no fucking clue where he was. Well, I was still drunk, and really was only planning on sleeping in my car for an hour to get my head straight. However, even in his nervouseness, he possesed a certain 'cool'. I was intrigued, and as we giggled over the metro map and it's lovely colors, we instantly embraced, like we'd been hanging out all night. I asked him where'd he been all night, as he wondered the same about me. I am not going to say this was love at first sight. No fucking way. But I would certainly atest to lust....
After about fifteen minutes of trying to reason him back to the metro, and myself to my car, I gave up. I wanted to know more about this cat, because dammit, he's got this hair that I just cannot stop looking at (the color and it's vibrancy was fucking amazing) and he just had this contagious laughter, warm, smooth....oh, and his eyes were lime green. Delicious. We went to a local diner for coffee for him and tea for me and the exchange was certainly MORE that anticipated. I was really into what this guy was saying, and he, maybe he was pulling out the stops and tricks, but he seemed rather into the details of my life as well. Oh, I almost forgot that he was kind enough to smoke me up on the way to the diner. said it was the least he could do. Ha!
It was 230 AM and it was time to go in order for him to make a train. We tumbled out of the diner, and pretty much slinked into the car, and that was when it began. A simple hug for thanks turned into a hardcore make out session. Now, I dunno if you guys know this, but the cops like to hang at diners, into the weee hours of the morning, so, it was clear that in order to continue this steamy exchange, the car would need to move....Almost at the metro, my body gave in. I was driving, his lips and teeth and tongue wrapped themselves around the most sensitive of spots, including my neck, ears, and well, another area between the stars on my chest and my sternum
Not able to resist, we parked at a freinds apartment complex, thinking the whole time, I could certainly take this inside, at least to the couch. Well, no. There we were, the boy with the blue mohawk and myself engaging in the most incredible, mind numbing sex I've had in a LONG fucking time. For three hours straight, it was nothing but madness, sweat, awkward switchings on's of the turn signal, windshield wipers and stero volume (hehe, the sound track to the session happened to be the Bouncing Souls's most recent live album.....wow...). It was just so fucking amazing. Needless to say, it was about five am before all was said and done, and then, BOOM, it hit like a ton of bricks, I fucking have to be at work at 8 AM! Shit. So, we jet to the metro, we kiss, for quite sometime, goodbye, plans for this weekend coming were made and I had a smile plastered to my silly face for the rest of the day.
I was late to work, but i didnt fucking care. It was justified. I'd just had the greatest fucking weekend. Ever.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
well I am not that old.
take it all in and for what it is.
your 20's are your playground.