2001-08-05 - 7:18 p.m.
I am feeling... 
"Finding a true Sin Twin."
Greetings and salutations.....
The last few days have been interesting...
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First, the concerts.
The Peaches concert kicked ass! The first singer, Esquire, is my *hero*! One of his songs had the coolest line ever in it, I shall take it to heart and remember it always... "I got my brandy, I got my Zanex!" Peaches herself put on a memorable show. All through the concert, the Divinyls' timeless classic "I Touch Myself" was running through my head... damn, I wonder why. We also met a nice little Polish boy there by the name of Joe. That's J-O-E, kids. In case you didn't know.
Oh yeah... me, Becky, and Annette also got harassed by a crazy non-English speaking woman at Sunbeam Donuts on the way home. That woman was a dirty rat fucker.
And as for Reel Big Fish/Goldfinger... oh shit. That was honestly the *best* concert I have ever been to. I fucking love RBF. I was happier than Annette in a roomful of flaming marshmallows.
...good Lord, that was harsh.
Anyways. The car ride to Phoenix Plaza was also quite enjoyable. All five of us could not stop laughing at everything, and it prompted me to utter the quote of the day: "Why is everything so funny?!"
Common place things such as beef, those Monopoly pieces on McDonald's french fries, and Meredith giving birth to large farm animals suddenly became the funniest thing in the world. New cars were also a big hit, seeing as how Azteks look like trapezoids on wheels, and PT Cruisers look like ovals that just escaped from the Geometry Zoo.
Nicknames for female genitalia were also flying about the car, since the four of us girls (me, Becky, Annette, and Mere) decided that we were going to refer to Andrew (the lone boy) as being a cunt, pussy, twat, vag, cooter, snatch, or pootang for the rest of the day. What a darling, to put up with our shit! Oh well. We did give him the opportunity to refer to us girls by nicknames for the male genitalia for the rest of the day. Therefore, Mere was the knob, Annette was a schlong (later changed to pecker), Becky was a one-eyed gopher, and I was the shaft. Somehow, all of this struck us as being comedy gold... or comedy pewter, if you live in a cottage in Scotland.
Jesus Christ, we all need to be locked up.
Several DC alumni were also at the concert, and it confused me very much. Why were they there? They don't like punk or ska. Dirty rat fuckers.
Plus, this Sunday is Warped Tour- the second most anticipated concert of the summer for me. (The first was RBF, I've waited for 6 years to see them.) My goal is to be broken in several pieces by the time I go back to SMC. Yay for mosh pits!
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Second, the outings.
A whole mess of us went to Dearborn Homecoming on Friday night... basically, it's a big festival thing for the city of Dearborn with crappy music, hordes of 12 year old girls with less clothing than Mariah Carey on a good day, and cranky old people. We started a count of alumni sightings as soon as we got there, and sure enough, we already spotted three by the time we walked in. They were all dirty rat fuckers, as most of our former high school's alumni are... except for us. We fucking rule.
I had me a damn good time at Meredith's party last night... I willingly let Brandon Williams throw me in the pool, as opposed to being picked up and hurled in. I did hit a down spot over the evening, which resulted in two smoke breaks disguised as walks around the block. The first was with Tim, and we had a nice serious chat. The second was with Brandon, and we talked shit about drugs and how fun it is to be fucked up. It was wonderful! Brandon also gave me a ride home later that night, and we went to pick up White Castles.
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Now, an admission must be made on my behalf.
Let me tell you, people... within that 10 minute drive from Mere's to the Castle, I had the greatest conversation with that boy. There was enough drug jokes, dirty talk, and finishing of each other's sentences for me to realize that Brandon is my long-lost twin.
(For all of my friends out there reading this and shaking your heads, hear me out and think about it. What kind of person is Brandon? What kind of person am I? Aside from obvious anatomical and academic differences, how many differences can you name between us? That's right. Very few.)
Brandon and I are the same type of person- we like to get fucked up, stay fucked up, and not give a shit why. Neither one of us see any good reason to stop anything, so why bother? It's the same philosophies working here. I would say that even though he knows very few specifics about me, he understands me better than anyone I know or will ever know. It's a good feeling to have- someone who's not speculating on your feelings and experiences because they have the very same. What a friend to have...
Emphasis on friend. ::throws glance in the prophet's direction:: This is exactly what I need now, since I have cut all ties with my former group of friends and I have been floating for quite some time now. I just need someone to talk to who *knows*. I need to remember why I bought my ticket to the never-ending party.
What a road to travel to get there... and what a party it promises to be.
~*~Piper~*~