I seriously cannot believe that I could down so much of the Electrick Floorbanger, drink of trolls, Klingons and other such hardier creatures that inhabit our universe. So here I am, with the worst hangover in the universe, typing with my toes because my fingers are tired from all the Dumb Charades played (till almost 5 f---ing a.m.).
I refuse to work but I can and will whine to my heart's content in this blog here. September has been shitty. Which means I had no time to download music or check out my place of complete Zen--YouTube. Or even bring out the newsletter. Bleh. But I try...
This whole work thing has been depressing. I thought last night would be great, I'd finally shampoo my hair n all, but noooooo, of course Jesus doesn't want me for a sunbeam, of course karma's out to f--- me. Susan's family descended (no offence, Sue, this ain't dissin, just whinin) and killed every dream I might have ever cherished, scarring my soul forever. And ever. Which might be why the Electrick Floorbanger went down a treat. Did I dance? I think I did the zombie jamboree at some point. Did I beat anyone up? Sadly, no. (Parties are so wasted without a good brawl. Where are you, Ms Gone AWOL Since Loove Came By In Jeans From The 80s? Not that I'm all expectant about the cheerful banter we're likely to exchange, but hey David woulda rocked Goliath's all I'm sayin.)
So, okay, to recap, Shantanu got older and wiser n all that. (I hope you liked the wallet, Shantanu. I also hope you had a most marvellous time.) Judie and Shan and Peter were missing from the action last night. So just honourable mentions here. The absence of Peter was sorely felt (in spite of the Issues we've been having lately), when at some point I realized that no-one had dissed the music, or anything, in a proactive manner at all. It's a break with tradition, it is.
So...Dumb Charades...why, Weirdos? Why? Not that I'm saying it wasn't fun. Why is all I'm wondering here...
Anyway, Keren, who totally rocks that teensy weensy pair of shorts, also rocked the Dumb Charades National Championship, coming up with some totally whack shit. At 4:30 a.m., she was still goin strong. Resspekk, mon. In other news, she baked a lovely cake with walnuts n stuff. (Personally I would have liked some icing, your icing is the bestest, Keren. Of course, that don't mean what that sound like.)
Neeti, who wanted that megaparty real bad, my scarred soul bleeds for you, cutie-patootie. But we'll make up for this with the Dumb Charades World Championship. That one won't be for the faint-hearted. What's more, we'll make sure we get hammered and then then we'll only have movies with MADE UP NAMES. Yeah...
SUSAN *taps foot and glares*, the whole dirty talkin has TO GO. Sex is NOT the universal language. Esperanto is and nobody cares about Esperanto. Sex, pondered upon philosophically, is a mildly repulsive act replete with gross bodily fluids, it not a thing to be held up and peered at in public. NO MORE d---s or c---s or c---s or t-----s or whatever (unless the movie is Dick Tracy or Octopussy). It's like being with the manboy from hell. AND playing DC with him! Noooooo! No suggestive gestures, no lewd expressions and above all, NO POINTING. NO NO NO POINTING. NO. NO SQUEEZING EITHER. NEVERMORE, quoth Weedy.
And now, for a new personage who is not yet a Weirdo but holds promise. The ability to quaff till floorbangin time, play a stupid game for hours, lie through his teeth, hold firm to the most misguided and untrue beliefs about himself in the face of fierce opposition--not bad for a beginner. The boy Adi might yet make a Jedi. The boy Adi also being responsible for the vast amount of Electrick Floorbanger is duly thanked here on this forum.
Then there's Nishant. Who's there. Somewhere. Doing what it is that he does. I don't know. Whatever. My memories of people, the clarity of which is directly proportional to their proximity around the area of mutual firewater consumption, being what they are, I shall gloss over him for now. (Man, don't even ask me wtf that sentence means.)
So, well, that's all from me here this month. Here's lookin at nother month, hopefully better than the last one. Homies, I love you all.
Peace out and rock on. Viva Zapata!
Weedy
