☞Wasteland Warlock☜ (kingfox) wrote,
☞Wasteland Warlock☜

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Adios Ron and Fez, Pirates dominate Bayfront, and I give up

That's right ladies and gentlemen, it's yet another LJ-CUT weekend update, without Dennis Miller.

Friday night it was supposed to be karamoon, chiquib, kikibird, runstaverun, Pete, and myself. The first two young ladies cancelled, leaving us two gentlemen and the couple for the evening. Jake and his loopy roomie joined us, and we had a nice meal at a local Mexican place in Rahway, a good little joint that I've often visited with Pete and other Drewids.

windexcowboy just had his first light burn out since he moved in to the mansion, so the Roomba is running in the darkness here with me while incetardis mocks it and launches nuclear war against it.

So we polished off a large bottle of sangria between the six of us, and then Jake's household left. So the four of us went to Butch Kohl's, found the scene lame after waiting forever to get a freakin' round, and started bar hopping. We went down Route 27 almost all the way to New Brunswick, the hip happening place far off in the distance that I kept on telling Pete we wouldn't drive all the way out to. We drove through Woodbridge, past Schoolteacher Cheryl's latest digs, past Emily's house, past a parking lot where Cat Eye and I fooled around, finally ending at the Polo Pub in Highland Park. kikibird talked us all into doing karaoke. So Pete did Mellancamp's "Hurts so Good", runstaverun did Mighty Mighty Bosstones' "Knock on Wood", and kikibird sang Orbison's "In Dreams". Me? Of course, my old classics, "Sympathy for the Devil" and "Bad to the Bone". It was an educational evening. As kikibird put it, "The difference between New Hamshire and New Jersey is that in New Hampshire we know French Canadians are white trash."

Earlier today the acadtech lunch crowd discussed how death could be pulled off on television, now incetardis and I watch condemned have blood smeared on them so the lions are more likely to kill them. We just made pasta with Emeril's vodka sauce to insult mrfantasy's heritage, and we watched Bridezilla when not watching the slaughter of humans for entertainment. So both lunchtable discussions were covered. Now Melissa, Mojo, Zora, and Sarah vie for Joe. Sarah, the gold diggin'ist of all is now (slurp) (gulp) mmmmh'ing with him.

So on Saturday, I was attending a dinner party at April and stepson's humble abode with karamoon. So I got ready to go, cleaned my car, but hadn't heard from karamoon. She initially wanted to get picked up at six. They wanted us THERE at six. Hah. So she agreed to five, but I hadn't heard from her and started to worry at four. Four-thirty rolls around, I leave anyway, and end up in Metuchen for the second day in a row. Not knowing where she lives, having not been there since before I could drive, I ended up driving around the small hole in the donut that is Edison. I was amazed at how many of the local roads I had forgotten, but I still managed to find my way to a few places... My highest level of completed education, the parking lot where a partner and I met the girl she wanted us to share, the last virgin I slept with's house, the high school where ``skeletor'' attended, all the teenage memories flooding back over me.

"Emeril kicked it up a notch too much."
-windexcowboy, having just puked

So five comes and goes, no sign of her. Five thirty, I am sitting in the Friendly's parking lot waiting for a sign. After six, I finally heard from her. She had been up until after eight in the morning, chatting with some married guy in upstate New York. So she was still showering, getting dressed, and not yet ready by the time we were already supposed to have been there. Yes, I was a half-hour late. But we ended up being over two hours late in the end. So her mother and I, who hadn't seen each other in a decade, chatted for a long time while karamoon put on nice scents and the like. We left, and walked through the complex where she lives. The complex I visited when we were involved, the complex I visited when my parents visited their good friends who also lived in it, who we'd visit quite often until middle school. Days sitting in the basement where she lived, talking with her, mysticism stuff, rushing back. Running straight into a guide wire holding a utility pole up trying to get my parents' attention, landing right back down on the ground... Sitting in Dan's living room, reading, playing Atari. Walking about the complex, making snow forts. All those memories, from a place long forgotten even to my conscious mind, flooding over me. I staggered about the complex before getting a call with the apartment number, rambling nonstop on the phone with Emily. It was rough. But I found her, picked her up, and we made it out and down to East Windsor.

"I'm a mercenary kind of person."

So we showed up well after dinner was served, but the non-salad stuff had been kept hot and was great. Mike and Lindsey, cool to see as always, brought these amazing heart-attack inducing taco-ette thingees. Great shit. karamoon found some vegetarian fare, and we drank the Rat Bastard wine she brought. She ended up talking me into drinking and spending the night at their place, so I relaxed and stopped playing designated driver. Had some of the Bailey's I brought, some more wine, one of April's famous mudslides, and watched stepson attack DHCP to lash out at some guy he was ambivalent about. Amusing shit. Great night, their friends were cool to chill with as always. I wish aaronkliger could have made it. karamoon got focused on trying to figure out things I thought were quite clear, and spent a long time on the couch hyperfocusing on trying to press information out of me while stepson hit on her. Then she started making up random things that she said I said about him, in a wierd sort of way. Odd.

After everyone else left, we spent a while sitting around with them watching the joys of Ika being prepared for purposes other than sushi. The two gracious hosts headed to bed, and we crashed in Corrine's room, a place I had crashed at a couple of times. She insisted on the floor, I insisted on the floor perpendicular to her under Pokemon sheets with my head on a giant Pikachu. I got to ogle her amazing legs as she walked about, which were really smooth to boot. Eventually I positioned myself next to her burping body, rubbing her back as her stomach went psycho. We woke up, and eventually went for breakfast/lunch with stepson, where I finally managed to steal the bill (he's normally quite good at that). stepson took the anti-hangover medication I bought him the LAST time I got drunk there, their kickass party back in the spring. So we left (finally picked up my Girl Scout cookies and got a slick wireless keyboard/mouse due to Linux not having drivers), behind schedule, and I was to drop her off at home. She was going to have me drive her up to where her boyfriend was hiding from things, but she got the vibe that he really didn't want her there and I needed to get going faster. So I visited Metuchen for the third time in as many days, said goodbye, and raced onward. She tells stories almost as much as I do. Really.

Fox's Joe Millionaire Disney sequence was the funniest thing I've seen all day.

I got to kikibird and runstaverun's place, just a wee bit behind schedule, but leaving us enough time to venture up to hiphopatcong's before kickoff. They gathered some leftover liquor from my party, and I drove us over the GWB and up to the Bronx. Hanging out with them quite a bit, they have often driven, as my car has been messy... but not now! It was a quick ride, but hiphopatcong left out one part of the directions, and it took us a couple of blocks to realize that.... his street number. Back to my car, grab the dying cell phone, and he sends noelr and aaronkliger out to fetch us. After a trip to 7-11, we ventured to the teacher pad.

hiphopatcong's place was amazing. So him. His roomie was very cool, and hiphopatcong's room was such a Feff-space. Perfect. I got crazy, and started betting on everything. So I even bet on Joe Millionaire. If he picks Melissa over Mojo, incetardis wins a quarter. I made crazy bets. I bet kikibird $5.00 that the coin toss would be tails, and won. I bet runstaverun $5.00 that the total final score would be odd, and won. runstaverun talked about a bet about noelr dying by dawn, and I took that bet against his wishes for a quarter. He lived, I win, I must steal a quarter from him now. Then I started making silly bets, like losing a quarter to kikibird because the chip bowl didn't spontaneously shatter, and a quarter to noelr over all of the air molecules in the room not dissapaiting. We talked of a bet over whether or not there was a death or career ending injury, but no one took that action. noelr and I made a conditional bet, that if it came down to the Raiders losing by two points (the decision that people were complaining about), there would be riots. I shouldn't have made the condition, there were riots anyway, so I would have won.

It was brought up that I was ahead of my time, eating plantations while young. noelr theorized that our mission is to bring ca.com down, devoting the rest of our lives to it. Lively entertaining debate was engaged, and I found myself ranting McKenna dogma at noelr, and agreeing with him on love being an illusion while he debated with kikibird. Granted, I'd willingly be a fool over it. I'd die for it. I think it's one of the most amazing powerful illusions in the world, one I devote much of my life to... but I recognize the illusiory nature of it. Doesn't make it any less important to me. hiphopatcong and his co-host/roomie passed out before the game was over (probably marked too many cans with fascist markings), so I waggled my dick in his face, kissed his forehead, and headed out. He was exhausted, Carlos having convinced him to give aaronkliger money, god laughing in the distance.

I had a Slurpee on my way there, and a Slurpee on the way back, so I was burping like karamoon all night long. I tried to pay kikibird and runstaverun back the $10 I robbed them, they refused, so I'll buy them a GBA AC adapter with the dough. Instead we got into a discussion about body issues, leaving me feeling like an asshole. Crap. Honestly, I worship the sum total of a person, and am not hung up on body types. But me trying to rationalize someone else's behavior, and me making fun of my insta-date (just add water's body fitting to normal standards instead of unrealistic standards, left me being teh suxx0r. Bleh.

So I came, I saw, I kicked rear. I've learned not to settle for less then happiness, I'm just working on grabbing it. While the fountain of knowledge remains the same for me as it does for another, I didn't bruise someone's mouth and I didn't get tons of fun. While I need to return to the true me, I will avoid the bad parts of the old me, and find the future me. Like Sean Fletcher, without the canvas in the harbor.

Oh yeah, and Ron and Fez and Eddie Trunk are no longer going to be playing in my car. I am going to be making much more use of my CD player.

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