one drop too many

we started the night at Gecko's on Central and Amherst. beers. cape cods. tenderloin on bread. like obviously bars tend to show testosterone laced nonsense on their tvs but it was just ridiculous that night. i literally watched a lowrider bounce up and down for 11 minutes. same car! weird. and then there was a commercial for travel lodge where a guy in a bear suit danced around like acid trips. weird.

then we went to tim's. someone there was acting the grump so we left as fast as we could. wine. cheap beers. gin and tonics. other stuff happened but it's dear diary not hello world.
eventually we got to the bar and there was a major problem. i was 3am raging house party drunk. and it was only midnight. the problem with 3amrhp drunk is the sheer amount of information that one can't retain. there are other problems too but they involve internal organs and decorum. i'll get to that later.
this is low red land. they were the band playing when we got there around midnight. they are three guys from san francisco and omg, all thin muscular good looking. total boner. i was slightly preoccupied with sucking the gin off of ice cubes in the back so i can't comment on their music. sorry. marc says he wouldn't buy their cd, kinda young revamped counting crows, but maybe i'll give em a chance. the best best best part of this band was that each guy played four other instruments. tall blond scandanavian in black shirt played electric guitar and acoustic -- i know i know! not exactly jack of all trades but he had to sing too. tall brown hair guy wearing sweatband played guitar, bass and banjo and mustache babe played drums and accordion. like, swoon.
ok. so i have to tell you about this picture above. please look at him until his face is burned onto your retinas. this is the singer/guitarist from low red land and before the band started playing, ash and i saw him handing a super cute purse to a girl in a red dress. obviously we gossiped about how lame it was to bring your gf along with you on tour. come on, right!? RIGHT! I mean, you're in a band = you get laid by random women + sometimes men. so bringing a girlfriend along is so unattractive.

well, after the band played and he was putting his guitars away, i yelled at him 'HEY! can i take a picture of you and your GIRLFRIENDDD???' he JUMPED off the stage, got in my face and flamed out 'she's not my girlfriend. she's not my girlfriend. i don't have a girlfriend. did you hear me? she's not my girlfriend. hsssssssssss.' creepy and hot all at the same time. psychopathic musician fetish here i come. literally. aaaahahahahahhaah. jk.

BATHROOOOOMMMMM BREAAAAAAAAKK!
best. photo. ever. uuuummmm. what exactly is going on here? not only worst angle ever, but worst angle ever combined with drunken marshmallow man stare.
notice how we all get closer and clooooser as the night progresses. lovey dovey!
oktober people came on and they were awesome. probably. marc liked them. he used to do stuffffffff with the singer. flannel rulez.
meet dream sequence marc.
so we sat by this weirdo with a mohawk at the end of the night and he just kept spewing out 'i'm having a bad day. this is the worst day of my life' so we sang him that song 'i had a bad day, la la la la, something-bla bla bla and you turn it around' then he gave us a beer and when we got kicked out the bar, marc said he was stalking us soooo close. close enough to bite our necks. what can i say? we're sirens.
the rest of the night was spent climbing a tree, pretending to be in jail, making out, posing for postcards.
end of the night and j knew all the words to the beyonce song 'to the left, to the left'. his best line was 'don't you ever for a second get to thinking ...... YOU'RE IRREPLACEABLE'. sung soprano of course.
overall a good night. just shitty overexposed photos on an already cheap camera. but no one called the police ON US or FOR US in the end.

a good night.