Sunday, February 24, 2002
Yesterday. Or maybe the day before. |2:33 AM|
I wanted to type up something to describe the long ass day I had friday night, but I wasn't really up for such a project until now.
I was invited out to see the Hotrod Hillbillies, which is a rock-a-billy band that includes a friend of mine. (if you recall the entry in which I blew a lot of money buying a keg, that was this guy's house/party). I managed to get ass lost on foot, even though I was on the correct street. I was in such a hurry that I managed to run most of the way across Austin before realizing that the street wasn't getting much more music club like. I was in sight of a used bookstore called book people, and when I mentioned I had run that far my friends were incredulous. I ran all the way back, found the right area, but had to run up and down the entire music club district three times before finding the place. I managed to completely miss the band's show, but I got my hands on one of their CD's, so I can listen to it and perhaps simulate a concert by closing my eyes, having friends spill beer on me and blow cigarette smoke in my face. I'll put the CD on the shoutcast server, just as soon as the damn shoutcast server works. And DAMMIT, Vorpal has my CD. I have one of his, hostage exchange time, I guess.
Oh! The reason Vorpal has my CD is for safe keeping, as I expected everything fragile on my person to be destroyed. You see, a goddamn mosh pit kept breaking out directly next to where Vorpal and I stood listening to the other bands that played at the club. We had been talking to these attractive women a few minutes earlier, and they were still dancing in front of us. They were a little younger than Vorpal and I, and a bit shorter, but that doesn't come into play until later. Anyway, this mosh pit breaks out to our side, so 175-250 pound, spike covered punks keep flying out of the pit on a dangerous path towards Vorpal and the females. I had to use my incredible Kung Fu skills to correct their paths away from my friend and the females. I was doing such an incredibly good job that the women barely noticed the incredible danger that kept being knocked aside with contemptible ease. Vorpal noticed, and was highly impressed and entertained as I pulled my Pinball Machine paddle trick. My arm would shoot out, I'd tense up at impact, then redirect the punk back into the crowd. I made it almost look easy. Later, however, I paid for this job with huge bruises and some cuts, not to mention a strained ankle. The below diagram portrays the evening:
After all this kung-fu action, Vorpal's drunken ass scared the women off by looming over them. I won't hold it against him, as he did manage to not vomit in my car. Vorpal and I left the club in search of other interesting past times, and decided to go to the relatively popular dance club in the area. Vorpal was a good guy and paid my cover charge to get us in the door. We failed to find anyone to dance with us, so we ended up heading home. We left Vorpal's car downtown, so I later drove a sober person down there to retrieve it, and only once managed to drive the wrong way down a one way street.
It was a hell of a night, though it was punctuated by drunken banter(which lowers IQ's):
Vorpal: I think we should turn left
Cecil: I think we should head right
Vorpal: I have GENETIC knowledge of this area
Cecil: Fine, we'll head left
Vorpal: Ah ha! We are on the right track! *Hiccup*
Cecil: That's the same bank, why do I listen to you?
Vorpal: *Hiccup* I dunno, I'M DRUNK! HEY LADIES!
Cecil: Stay away from them. We're heading right this time.
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//That should close up the previous year.
///Say this is the swap from 2001 to 2002, that should close up the 2001 links.
///Problem is, we also need to close up the final month links too.
/// echo '