Thursday, June 12, 2003

Sleep? What's That?

Wow. I had such an amazing week. I went to this huge convention of geeks and freaks in St. Louis, and even though that may sound really lame, let me preface everything by saying this annual get-together is basically a major excuse to party hard and, hey, if you happen to get laid, more's the better. So basically I was stoned and/or drunk almost the entire week, did nothing but relax, shoot the shit, wander around, and wreak mass havok within the hotel (goaded on by my new soulmate, Peter, who is equally as devious/evil as I am).

I indeed made out like a bandit this weekend (pun intended). Not only did I get a lot of sex, I also was treated to my first lap dance ever -- by one of the hottest women I've ever met. I'm told I was beet red when she finished. I blush easily, okay?

Add to that a couple smooches by the same woman, and I did get to feel up a couple other women. Smashing week, I'd say!

Peter and I attempted to make Jello shots in an enterprising moment where we were trying to channel our energy into something somewhat constructive, for once. The resulting concoction could very well be the most vile substance created by man. We had no idea what we were doing and decided that we would substitute ALL the water the recipe called for and replace it with the world's nastiest cheap vodka (it cost us $20 for a gallon -- it was that good).

The result was nothing beyond foul. The raspberry-flavored shots tasted like NyQuil, though possibly worse. The lime ones tasted like a popsicle soaked in rubbing alcohol. The gelatin that didn't dissolve no matter how long we shook it ended up settling on the bottoms of the cups in a grainy, semi-crunchy sludge.

This was the conversation when approached about the innocent-looking drinks on my tray:

Unsuspecting Victim: Whatcha got there?
Me and Peter: Uh.. it's really disgusting. Want to try it?
Unsuspecting Victim (eyes colorful substance in the cups): What is it?
Me and Peter: They're failed Jello shots. They're really nasty. Want one?
Unsuspecting Victim: Yeah, I'll take one. (selects one from the menu)
Me and Peter (quickly): They're reeeeeally nasty. And don't drink the sludge on the bottom.
Unsuspecting Victim eyes us with a dawning of suspicion.
We grin back and nod encouragingly.
Me and Peter: Go for it. Just don't drink the sludge.
Unsuspecting Victim decides 'what the hell' and shoots the shot, invariably drinking the sludge on the bottom, even when instructed otherwise.
We watch Unsuspecting Victim's reaction with baited breath.

I came away from this weekend with all sorts of bruises with questionable origin. How the hell did I get a perfectly circular bruise in the middle of my inner forearm? My knee? And I have one on my thigh that looks clearly as if I ran into a table at some point. Yeah.. I admit the week was a definite blur.

In fact, if you asked me to tell you the events of a particular day in correct order... I couldn't do it.

More later after I catch up on sleep.

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