filthy offshoots of central ave.

we all met up at copper lounge around midnight and i had six dollars in my pocket. i haven't been carrying money in my bag since the previous painful memory on that dirty night bridge. bill simon alex marc piper t and then later j.t. and t.c.

some of us were coming from the glorious rat hole known as joe's. the others were coming from jessica's game night. we played cranium in between brown nosey convos to ewen the director and laurel the directors' girlfriend. yawn. otherwise, perfect food and understated environment.

but copper. it was less understated. simey and b hit on a group of nice ladies. j and i downed a l.i.i.t. in under a minute. women's olympic volleyball games played in the background. b called a slightly round lady "melon" instead of her real name, ELLEN (!) and generally we stood around smoking before everyone went home.

why didn't we GO HOME?!

si, bill, jess, t.c. and i drove to pipe's place now called ..... micro shack? mini shack? i forget although micro shack sounds more correct just based on the terrible pun "mike"-ro shack. arm pumping ensued. we sang bush, passed out, woke up to blink 182 at super high volume, danced on the wheelchair, threw up and smoked some more. the nice thing about passing out is the part where you sleep through any sort of terrible environment currently taking place before you. and unfortunately we were all super conscious for all of the smoky cheap beer fueled blink 182 madness.

the night continued to slide downward as we went to denny's around 4am. bill ordered something called the superbird and ate a lint sausage covered in ranch dressing. si's forehead seemed to bloat according to my camera phone pics.

we walked to my place for good night dreams and wound up talking nonsense until the sun rose over the sandias.