“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Monday, March 21, 2005

So I haven’t posted in a few days. For at least the last three of them I’ve been in varying states of celebrating my little sister’s birthday.

This is her:
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Anyways, she just turned 21. Big John and I drove up to her party in Marietta Ohio last night. It was on a riverboat, which was listing noticeably to one side, which was interesting to watch people get drunk in.

Rich was there, as he was for my brother’s 21st, and he was fairly intoxicated, as he was for my brother’s 21st. All in all though it went a lot smoother than the other party.

My brother Kurt, seen here molesting a foreigner: Image hosted by Photobucket.com

turned 21 when we were in Morgantown.

Morgantown West Virginia turns out to be a pretty groovy place to be when you’re 21. Or when you know someone who’s 21. Or when you’re looking to drug up runaways and film porno movies, but that’s not what this post is about.

So the brother’s party was going pretty good until the one member of our travelling party (17 people in a Ford Aerostar Van) got thrown out of "The Sports Page" (325 High St. Morgantown, WV). Seems Chad was a little under 21 and one of our other party members had promised the bouncer that Chad wouldn’t drink anything. This wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact that Chad is an alcoholic (even by our standards) and sort of a dick to boot. So he got caught drinking.

While that’s going on, I’m trying to console another member of our party (who shall remain anonymous) as he cried out loud over thinking that I was going to try and hook up with the recent ex-girlfriend of our very own Rich Fucking Sanders, seen here molesting someone (possibly a foreigner):
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Anyways, the guy was in tears at just the concept of me POSSIBLY seeing someone (which was putting my ass in a great mood) when we all got tossed into the street. It wasn’t bad timing though as it was almost last call anyway, but a few members of our group were a little pissed off about having to go home to continue drinking. So as we’re walking down the alleyway to avoid the police on the way back to the van a fight breaks out.

Oh goody.

So I’m on my way to intervene in the fight and I see Chad, seen here molesting a guitar:
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and he’s looking around on the ground. Well it wasn’t hard to figure out what he was looking for and sure enough he picks up an object and as he prepares to throw it. Then, as one of the top ten funniest expressions I’ve ever seen crosses his face, he throws down the plastic Evian bottle and continues searching for a good old glass beer bottle.

Fortunately by the time he found one I had my right hand around his throat. Grabbing his right wrist in my free hand, I picked him up by the neck, walked him across the street to a dumpster and very calmly explained to him that I would let go of his windpipe when he let go of the bottle.

He didn’t take too much convincing.

I turn back to the fight to see my brother doing a fairly good job of crowd control. He’s got one guy, so I grab the other. I grab my guy in a modified Ju-Jitsu chokehold. Kurt grabs his guy, Hammershmidt, by the shirt. As he yanks the shirt it tears clear off Hammershmidt who then proceeds to hit my guy square in the face, almost knocking my teeth out on the back of his head.

That’s about when the cops showed up.

Now the cops in Morgantown are mostly guys that couldn’t get into college and are plenty pissed off about it, so they’re usually a joy to fucking deal with. 3 AM in a dark alley is no exception.

So Cop #1 is acting all tough and shit and threatening to arrest us all for being drunk in public. Even though he was technically right, he was being something of a dick about it, so Kurt, who had been drinking since 9 AM the previous day, grabs the cop by the shirt, picks him up off the ground, moves him over two feet to the side, sets him down gently and proceeds to leave.

That brought about another of the top ten funniest expressions I’ve ever seen. This cop, who had a nightstick, a can of pepper spray and a gun with at least two clips of ammunition simply stared at my brother as he walked away and most of the rest of us followed.

Hammershmidt, one of the fight’s participants, seen here molesting our couch:
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had to stay behind with Cop #2.

So after collecting Brian, seen here after having been molested by Smurfs:
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who, in an effort to avoid being arrested, had taken a place in line to get into the back door of another club. This would have been a smart move had the club not been a very gay club on retro night. They were a tad reluctant to let Brian go as, in their estimation, he had a "pretty mouth", but we managed to pry him away and get everyone home safely.

Except for Hammershmidt who had to walk home after the cops had told us they were going to drive him home.

Anyways, by comparison, my sister’s party was a goddamn walk in the park.

Happy birthday little sister.

I'm gonna go feel old now.


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