Schmoked Meat!?!?

I'm hammered. It's the only way I can be true to this secret/public diary posting. I really want to write about the amazing diversity(old wooden ship) thats been going on at my apartment the last 2 days, but I I don't have time to discuss the wrench toting Mexican toddler with matches (a.k.a Section 15) and the Scotsman. I gotta talk about the life changing experience that was Prague. Pronounced Pra-gooey for you public school wankers.

You know what? Fuck it, I can make this one gigantic analogy.

The best way I can describe what happened to me in Prague is to tell you a story which rendered me, for a short period of time, in the same state of mind I was for my entire stay in the Czech Republic. Two stories in one, more bang for your boredom.

Last weekend I went to a party celebrating the Chinese New Year (thanks again Tie and Hang out Nazi) and partied till the booze was drunk and the fire was all burned out. Me and T-Nasty proceeded to walk home and build our nest on the roof to wait for the sun and his two scoops of raisins. We were equipped with the essentials. Gin, tonic and limes? Check. I-Pod complete with speakers, loaded with sunrise type tunes? Check. An unhealthy disregard for other people's sleeping patterns and powerful vocal chords? Check!

Watching the sun rise to the flaming lips was right up there with the first time I did ecstasy, you should try it some time. We've all learned that we are spinning precariously on a relatively tiny blue marble that orbits a ball of flaming gas, but that lesson really does not hit home until you've seen the sun creep over the horizon while pickled in gin. My instinctive reaction was to howl like a fucking werewolfbansheedemon in the most humble and dumbfounded manner possible. So thats just what I did. Travis even joined in with his own breed of howl.

Across the street someone tediously training themselves to walk or talk again at the rehabilitation center heard this primordial yarp and had a health care official alert the authorities.

Having just washed down bear claws masticated by ape like mandibles with large amounts of coffee, they no doubt sped, holsters unbuttoned to our humble abode. The Padge was going googley eyed in his rooftop lawn chair when I spotted not one, not two, but three squad cars parking across the street by the rehabilitation center. I instantly freaked, hopped up and crawled inside to wake up the only somewhat sober person in the house.

As I tripped my way across Travis' war zone of a room the doorbell rang. "Fuck!", I said and double timed it to The Smell's room. The Smell sleeps like a hibernating brown bear who receives a daily anal suppository of NyQuil. I practically had to give him brain damage shaking him to get him awake. I explained that the Police were at the door and he needed to talk to them because my gin soaked mind could only formulate the phrase, "Hey, man, I got a lighter if you got a cig.", and that sentence would have gotten me nowhere with the fuzz, ya know?

So Roll throws on a holey T to complement his flannel boxer shorts and sleepily wanders downstairs to answer the door. Waiting there is 4 cops lead by a squaty dyke bitch who wants to know how to get to the roof. Roll motions her to come in and starts back up the stairs to T-Nasty's room where he and I are waiting like two fuck ups in a middle school principals office.

Fuck, I feel I'm on a roll here, but I am too exhausted to finish this story and connect it to my Prague adventure right now. I'll finish this tomorrow night. (Death.)