Mr. Bad

JESUS I’m hurting today.

OW.

Like, really, OWWWWW.  I was SERIOUSLY POISONED by diox at the last-minute-thank-Ganesh-it’s-Friday-what-the-fuck-let’s-drink Attic get-together last night.

I’m serious here.  I have serious, serious cell tissue damage that may never heal.  Little poisoned tissue walls all over just oozing damage and hurtness.  Ow!  That’s just the low-level systemic stuff: like, really serious Nagasaki-level meltdown happened in the neurons in my brain and such.  There are little charred lifeless circles of brain like those sad black forest-fire areas you see from the highway driving in the mountains.  Just tragic, really.

For those who wonder what I’m talking about: the Daring Diox Loadie Contingent of course decided to attack this VODKA-REDBULL thing head on at the Attic last night. I think I bore the brunt of the casualties.  I must have had like 60-70 wine glasses full of that gross shit — it looks like carbonated urine and tastes like 1978-era Diet Dr. Pepper.  It was horrifying.

I can’t even remember who was there.  Mabel and me came from work, and MAJ showed up too.  And of course LoudJen and Hogwater, but they left to go to some architects-only thing.  Whatever.  Oh, and JEWELZ wore her new CORSET which was really fabulastic and revealing and shit.

WoW!  And Todd and Shannon, and James, and, uh, Space Cptn. Rocco showed up for a sec, too.  And the Other Shannon, and the blond guy, and, uh, Don and Holly.

The worst part was that everyone picked on me and I was totally humiliated.  Despite the fact that there was a regular PORNO-LEVEL ORGY going on at the table at the Attic, I was mysteriously left out of all the suck-facing and stuff and told to drink more goddamn RED BULL and get out of everybody’s hair.  Don and Holly eventually made me kiss their dog, like on the face and stuff.

I did get to dance, though.  Shannon and Todd danced splendidly. James danced too, I think.  And Holly, but, like, chair dancing, which is kind of different. It filled up early there, though.  We left the Attic and some people mysteriously disappeared (!) and other people ended up at Don and Holly’s house, drinking more GODDAMNED RED BULL and slouching around and stuff.  It was fun, but I had to listen to GodTodd gloat about how he’s part of this secret society that rules the world.  Apparently it’s not all that glamorous — Todd’s job is to rule over dry-cleaning stores and Rhode Island — but, still, there’s some cachet.

Oh, and then this guy came to D & H’s with, like, 2-ft. long knives with little crusts of blood and hair on them, up near the handles. Augh!  He was showing them off.  He had a magician’s assistant with him too.  Sick, weird people, totally in their element.

Anyways, I stumbled out at 3AM, stinking drunk and COMPLETELY ALERT from all the goddamn RED BULL.  That stuff is completely HORRORSHOW. It’s like when they gave those drugs to Alex DeLarge and made him sit and watch his own atrocities with toothpicks in his eyes.  Aieeee!

Anyhow, I’m battling this hangover with heroic stoicism… I’ve called the Make-a-Wish Foundation to see if they cover 30-year-old hangover victims as well as 5-year-old cancer patients*… No luck.  Guess I just have to stick it out.

~Mr. Bad

* My wish was to get kissed by someone besides that damn dog.  Oh well.

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