Wednesday, January 6, 2010

a new beginning

this is a tale from the only one who really knows that when you say best friends it means friends forever:


New Years Day: I woke up still drunk from the night before and proceeded to start drinking again cause i wanted 2010 to be the year I kept the buzz going. I get a call from Chris to go to the Mummers parade so I of course shower and when they show up we head down. I get to South Philly and again realize it is it's own ...little fantasy world where the normal laws of nature do not apply as people begin yelling in a mixture of italian, english, and drunk and find Bones and his crew at the parade drinking on Broad St with about seven cops looking on approvingly. I quickly run out of beer and Phil and I go find this little corner bar to buy more only to realize they only take cash so forty minutes later I return (realizing in the process Phil is geographically challenged and his ideas as to where an ATM would be blow) and I buy as many $5 (yes, $5) beers as I can and we head back. Over the course of the next two hours I am sure I managed to drink four beers and ten pound of glitter. We go to Michelle's house where thankfully the are italian and thus have mass quantities of food which I use to stave off the inevitable blackout for a few more hours while Chris makes friends. We then decide to leave and go back to the mummer's parade as it is now night and the parade has ended and south philly has turned into the scene from the second matrix movie where the people have a huge danceparty/orgy in the cave. I somehow get lost from everyone and walk into a random house because I am convinced I know people that live there (a fact I use to argue with the person I think actually lived there) and hole up against the cold. I proceed to call Phil who is only one block away. One hour, five phone calls, and fifty texts later Phil has still not found me. I decide to walk home....from South Philly. I get lost. Real lost. I find myself in one of those rapeville areas of philly dominated by abandonded buildings and tepid water. I can sense the crackwhores closing in. I panic. I start running and screaming out how I am too young to be butt raped and there are better options. I see a light in the distance and I run towards it like an african child toward a Red Cross food distribution center. It is a cab! I do not question why the cab is in rapeville nor why the cab driver is standing outside of it smoking something (clearly not a cigarette). I scream incoherently at him to drive me to my apt and after his initial lunge towards what I can only assume is his unregistered firearm he accepted my money and brought me home. I get home. Steve calls me and comes over (unsure where he was or why he chose 1 AM to call) and tells me I should drink more. I bask in Steve's wisdom and agree. Phil finds his way to my apt. He is alone. Chris stumbles in by himself later with blood gushing from his mouth mumbling incoherently. Caroline dropped him off and bolted. End result: My body is shaking so bad I could barely type this out, there is blood covering my bathroom and chris passed out on my very, very white comforter, and I woke up spooning with Phil on my couch.


Happy New Year



*note that the corporation does not actually condone this kind of behavior,
nor does it in any way vouch for the veracity of this narrative.

3 comments:

Vincent said...

I'm glad I could contribute to this pretentious blog. My ego is sated.

john said...

my ego is satiated

Christine said...

who owns a white comforter? tsk.