So, that last blog post, I was like a little fucked up when i compiled it. I don't know what that means, but everything in it is true, and I think that, except one thing. There was a comment, and I'm going to reply to it in the most direct manner possible: I am not planning on becoming an hero. Do I think that down the line I might? Yes. I don't see it in the near future, but I keep it as a distinct possibility later in life. But it will still take a lot. It's like a contingency plan of sorts.
So I had kind of a crazy fun weekend. And I'm going to start at the beginning. So I got wasted Thursday with some friends, and wrote that beautiful little blog post. I tried to go to sleep at like 6 in the morning, fell asleep at 8, and by ten was woken up by my brother because someone was at the door for me. Turned out it was a friend of mine from high school, who I haven't seen in like three years. After high school, he joined the navy. Then he got kicked out, and now he lives on the west coast in a pop-up trailer. And, he may be the dumbest person I know. But he's loyal. But his time in the navy has turned him into two things: sexist and racist. He's always been a little racist, which everyone just ignored, but now, he's super racist. The fact that he is sexist is pretty shocking news, because he was always super respectful to girls in high school. Still consumed by sex like every other teenage boy, but not a doucher or anything. Not anymore. So I'm looking at this situation, and in a pretty heavy thought on it. We've got history, and I can trust him to have my back, but he's changed in a bad way, and expels thoughts and ideas that I don't agree with at all.
Anyway, I didn't sleep after that, and spent the afternoon painting a garage for my grandmother, earning some dough. So I was tired, and unable to sleep. And then, a friend of mine called me and informed me that he was in a bad way. So I brought a bottle of wine over, and we had a good old fashion brodown. Got shitty, wandered around. Then, we decided we were going to snort Ritalin. For all you uniformed individuals, there are two things that you need to know about Ritalin: first, that it is the same as speed, but in a lower dose; and when you send 60 milligrams up your nose, your mind races and you formulate ideas. ADVISORY: i do not advocate the use of prescription drugs for recreational reasons. So, this would break the roughly three year embargo on drug use that has not been either prescribed, alcohol, or nicotine. But, such is life. My friend and I sat around, talking, watching movies (not really, background noise), and listening to music. We talked about everything. About him moving out of his little town which is like a twin sister of my little town, separated by four miles of highway. And women. So, 7 am rolled around, and I went home. And I couldn't fall asleep. I was tired, and the Ritalin had more than wore off, but my mind wouldn't shut the fuck up. i couldn't stop thinking.
I drifted off to sleep a few times, before getting up to prepare for a trip I embarked on. I went with one of my best friends, and an acquaintance of mine who I do not like because he is annoying as hell. We headed two hours north, to meet my lady friend and help her move a king-size mattress to her parent's house in the aforementioned small sister town. She invited the annoying guy for some reason unknown to me. We get up there after a fun time on the road, including me flashing my man-breasts at people we pass, grabbing cardboard crowns from burger king, and listening to all sorts of music. So we go pick up some drinks, and settle in to her empty apartment. Pull out a deck of cards, and I proceed to teach her how to play Euchre, which is almost the Midwest's national card game. Play a couple of games, she's my partner and we win. Then, decide to boogie to the bars. We were in a small city with a university of less than 10,000 students. Head to the first bar, rap videos playing on big screen tvs, packed with people by the bar, and like 8 sub-species of bros having a dance off in the corner. Have one drink, and move on. End up at a bar with a band playing. Kind of blues-rock stuff, local students by the looks of it. No cover, grab a beer and listen. Look over and see who the drummer is. My friend Mike. The drummer for both bands that I was a part of in college. I had forgotten he was from this city. And he sees me. And he motions me towards the stage, and he tells the rest of his band of our musical history. And they ask me if I want to rock with them. So I did. And it was fun as shit. We only did two songs, a cover of "Born Under a Bad Sign" by Cream, and "Rehab" by Down, as we quickly tried to figure out songs we all knew. I just did vocals, as their lead singer used their spare guitar for a rhythm. Our timing was off, but it was still fun as shit. I have not done that in years. My friends were impressed, the bar was half paying attention and the band members themselves were very friendly and pretty cool guys. So we threw back some beers against the other bands playing (too mediocre for me to list here), and headed back to the apartment. Completely wasted. And with no end in site. Kept drinking, and all four of us passed out on the king-sized mattress. Three dudes and a lady. Dear Penthouse forum...
Oh, and here's some devil music for you guys: Electric Wizard with "Black Mass"