falling down...

Dancing, it's a pastime enjoyed by many. It's also a product of liqour induced dreams and nightmares. An abundance of alcohol will lead the most shy of people to dance the night away, it will allow the extroverts to take their clothes off. On this particular evening the alcohol was flowing freely mostly thanks to a benevolent mother figure with an unlimited bar tab.

It only takes one song to set it off. The right beat, say a slamming MJ bass line, or the newest outkast will induce bump and grind action for hours no matter what song plays after that. This night was no exception, the rhythm was in the air.

Co-eds, 30 somethings, old timers, et all were present at this meeting of the tribe called dance. I can't remember how I came to swim in the pool of sweat and beers, but I do remember stripping down to a soaked t-shirt and grinding on my boss. See it's times like these that mean the most and are the fuzziest to recall. Somewhere between shot # (insert hugeish number here) and infinity I blacked out.

The only memory that was salient was the one saved by my personal assistant. These are the times we live for, one moment, one night somewhere under a dirty moon and a dirty dream.

ever told a cop to fuck off?

apparently I have... I'll tell you as best I can remember as it was related to me.
So, I was walking, (stumbling) home from the bar one night. I noticed a group of youngsters high on testosterone and alcohol. They were "brawling". yer or whateva's. I watched for a bit and when it escalated and the cops went "wooh hoo" I left. I made a right and headed up the street to a friends house to say "high". We were making sweet love to the god of cannabis when a masked man carrying a flashlight popped out of the yard and flashed his light on me. "What the fuck I said", he replied in kind with "where have you been tonight"? I told him I had arrived earlier from the planet ZeebZorb and would be finishing my stay here shortly. He said I matched a description. I promptly told him that I match no description and that he should be on his merry way. Amazingly the "peace officer" clicked off his lamp of fear and turned and walked away with his tail between his legs. We continued to drink and smoke till the mind was content. Then I passed out.

Fuck that guy.


theOmega

Everything Black is not Blue

Hi,

been a while, seems I might have blacked out for the last month and a half, but it is summer ehh? I have a cotributing editor, he never posts anything, I think I might fire him. Anyway, I had a good one the other night. I don't remeber much of it and any confirmation thus far has been, yeah you were wasted. Typical. I found myself in Columbus Ohio at the Audio Eagle Summer Showcase featuring gil mantera's party dream, beaten awake and houseguest. I think it all started with the cute bartender and reasonable drink prices. See this girl was pretty and kind of reminded me of a girl I once knew. She served great drinks, we chatted, I came to find she had the same name as the afore mentioned girl. Weird... I had a few drinks and a few rounds off the old pipe, and things got going. The bands were putting on a great show and I was drinking vodka like water. At some point during Beaten Awake's set I had the first inclination that I was drunk, but at that point there's no stopping it, and well I had to return to the bar and creep out that hottie bartender right?

anywho...

At this point I only remember shreds of what happened. I talked my friend Al's ear off for what in my mind was an hour, who knows what I said... sorry Al.

I also had one of what I think were several conversations with my friend Pat, and his girlfriend denise. wish I could remeber those tales for you but alas, I'll have to wait for them to relay the stories to me.

well I found myself in the van on the ride home, someone must have walked me there. It was a convienent place to pass out. When I awoke I foud myself at a "goasis" it was bright and I was still drunk but in my state i still realized this was my only chance for food tonight. I found the hot dog trolly, and prepared a lovely dog with ketchup and mustard, and promptly dropped it down my leg and onto the floor. hunger ravaged at my stomach so I just picked the damn thing up and put more catsup/mustard on it and added some chili to mask whatever funk I was about to eat off the floor. See the thing is I didn't even wipe the dog off man. the thought just never crossed my mind.

Stumbling is easy...go ahead try it.

It's amazing how quickly a good night can turn into a bad night. It's also amazing that I'm still alive. It seems somewhere between buying drinks for the cute girl who makes my burritos and running into the cute girl I met last week that I lost control. The last good piece of advice I remember recieving was "you shouldn't talk to her so wasted". I probably didn't take that advice. I do remember that on the way home a stranger laughed and pointed at me saying "that guy is drunk!" The walk home was terrible, and took forever, passing several friends on the way who commented on my state of affairs. I'm sure the story gets better if I asked them what they thought of my stumbling theatrics. Safely in the confines of my home at last, I spun like a 4 year old on the spinning thing on the playground. Then I puked, and passed out on the cold dirty pink tile that surrounds my bathroom. I closed my eyes on another sad chapter called the blackout diaries.

the Omega

Midget Swimming Pools and Cranberry Juice

after a night infused with sadness and drowned in the pretty little bubbles of cherry bombs I blacked out. Apparently at this stage of the evening was when I aquired a taste for the "abnormal" I was "spotted" (term used loosley) with a transvestite. All claims to this are considered "hearsay" as they can only be confirmed by other drunks. Trannies all look good in the dark pit of alcohol anyway. I also have vague images of nightswiming in a pool built for midgets, or maybe with midgets, I can't be sure. More alcohol was found at my final destination, and when mixed with cranberry juice made for a tasty beverage which stains easily.

the Omega

Dear Diary

Welcome to the blackout diaries. I can't promise you'll be amused. I also can't promise any information within is even closely related to "reality"


the Omega