Wore Out The Soles Of My Party Boots

Wow, what a fucking killer weekend. Yes, I know it’s Sunday and that the weekend isn’t technically over, but it is for me. Friday, I was sitting on my couch chatting on facebook and watching the NatGeo channel, per usual. I had no real plans, just figured I’d wind up at the deck or at karaoke with the usual suspects. I ended up driving up to Boston to go see an old friend whom I haven’t really hung out with since I graduated high school. Also, her brother was my high school sweetheart, so I knew this was going to be a riot. I didn’t get up there till almost midnight, but that was okay. We chatted about the past ten years of our lives while putting down some drinks at her apartment and then we headed out to The Model in Allston. I don’t think I have ever seen it so packed, but then again, I’ve never been there on a Saturday at 12:30am. Almost immediately upon entry I literally ran smack dab into my ex-boyfriend Dan. He was pretty drunk and it was really funny seeing him in a bar. Back when we dated he was straight edge. It was such a great time hanging out with him, though I did see him over the summer. He did my compass tattoo. We talked about pretty much everything, especially his fiancée T. She is so pretty, Dan is very lucky to have her. Also, Dan’s friend and roommate Bob was there. I haven’t seen Bob since I was a sophomore in high school. He had started a pretty outrageous rumor about me back in the day, but Bob is nuts and everyone knew he was full of shit. He was pretty much black out drunk, so it was really easy and really funny to make fun of him. I wound up buying everyone a round of tequila shots and we all got pretty drunk. We staggered around the city in the cold in search of pizza, which we found and demolished. We continued to party til about 5am and then we all crashed out. 

I woke up early Saturday because it was so bright and hot as balls in their living room. According to the thermometer, it was well over 85° in that room. After eating the last slice of leftover pizza, snuggling with the kitten and watching Thank You For Smoking, everyone else finally woke up. I had a feeling I was going to have yet another fucking parking ticket and we wanted to go to Bagel Rising, so we all headed out to my car. As predicted, I had a $40 ticket on my car. To add insult to injury, a drunk driver had side-swiped it as well, losing their passenger side mirror in the process. Fan-fucking-tastic! It’s not as bad as it could have been, I suppose. It’s just all scraped up. I can clean most of it up with some rubbing compound. Just another reason why I hate my fucking car. I’ve said it once, and I will say it again: “I miss my truck.” If I didn’t have bad luck, I would have no luck at all. Seriously, shit like this happens to me all the time. I don’t even bother with getting mad, it’s just not worth it. What good is me getting all hot and bothered about it going to do? Just a waste of energy, though I did say if we found the car that hit me, I was going to take the Brooklyn Smasher to it while yelling ” You see this Larry?! Do you see this?! This is what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass!” in pure Lebowski fashion. Bagel Rising was packed like always and like always, the food was delicious. I throughly  enjoyed my Avocado Dream and Thai Iced Tea while watching The Real Ghostbusters christmas special on OnDemand. That in itself was enough to cheer me up from the abysmal state of my car. 

After we ate Jen and I headed down to Cambridge to see Steve Versus The Volcano at the All Asia. Ohhhh All Asia, how you fail, let me count the ways…. For starters they don’t know what a highball glass is. Also, I ordered one of their house drinks, The Ginger Honey. It’s made with honey vodka and ginger beer and served on the rocks in a highball glass. The bartender looked at me very confused and then after running back and forth behind the bar asks me “Whiskey?” I think the look on my face was enough to motivate her to go ask the other bartender, to which he responded with handing her the drink menu and then making me my drink, in a normal, teeny glass. After finishing my beverage and not wanting to repeat that fiasco, I ordered a PBR. While it is served in a very large beer mug, the cheapest of beers on tap will run you $7. $7. SEVEN DOLLARS FOR A PABST BLUE RIBBON?! What the fucking fuck is that all about?! Ugh. I hate the All Asia. While all this was going on, some bands were playing… badly. “I wrote this song about 10 years ago about the punks down the street at the garage. Its called 20 Minute Cunt.”  WHAT?!  Then the next band went on and tried to do a ska version of Karma Chameleon and failed miserably at it, successfully managed a cover of The Chip And Dale’s Rescue Ranger’s theme song and also Fett’s Vette by MC Chris. As they gained momentum with those songs, tragedy struck when they epically failed at Darkbuster’s Pub. They had to start over 3 times before getting the beginning right. Ugh. Steve vs The Volcano did pretty well and the crowd was really into them. So much that the All Asia instituted the “No Moshing” rule. Weak sauce. Fat Steve hit himself in the face with the mic and got a bloody lip. Purtle managed to get sick on stage and I somehow was able to find and get him a bucket in time for him to puke in. I sang along with “The Bridge” and the cover of “Linoleum” they did. Fat Steve teased the audience saying that they were going to do a Showcase Showdown song, but it was a lie and everyone was disappointed by that. Some really shitty Blood for Blood rip off hardcore band played last. The singer got up on stage and preached at us for a solid fifteen minutes about how thongs are the downfall of society, Tiger Woods cheated on his wife so he is the anti-christ, Obama isn’t doing his job and that he is  Anti-rape/sexual assault/domestic violence & anti animal abuse, that people need to watch the cops and not give them a reason to bother you and then tried to claim that he’s not political. I know what he is, he’s a fucking HYPOCRITE! Halfway through his tirade I looked at everyone and said, “I’m hungry, Fat Steve? You still a vegetarian? Lets go to The Grasshopper.” Everyone liked that idea and after they got paid and sold some shirts we went to the Grasshopper where we ordered 3 plates of the No-Name and got some soup. “We at the shit out of that grasshopper food!” was the running gag. After leading everyone out of the city, because no one knows their way around Boston like me, we all headed back to the Cape for a party that no one ended up going to because we were all too damn tired. On the way home I got to watch some of the meteor shower that was going on. It was pretty fucking rad. I passed out on the couch watching Airplane!. “Oh it’s a big, pretty, white plane with red stripes, curtains in the windows and wheels and it looks like a big Tylenol.”

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend spent with my favorite people. I can’t wait to get back to the City. I miss it like I miss Mint Juleps.

3 AM Pizza!

 

nom nom nom

 

Kitteh cuddles!

 

Don't do drugs...

 

Sweet Bathroom Art...

 

The new SVV bargain headbands. Get yours today!

 

Gettin' Gay!

 

Fat Steve

 

Group Photo

 

Jen's $7 PBR

 

SVV and I eating at The Grasshopper

 

All that was left of the 3 orders of The No-Name

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