Sure, I'll drive..

Nate, my good, good buddy, asked if i would drive him a hour and a half to Little Rock to play a show. He says he's headling, i tell him i'm down and i invite a friend of mine alex along with us.

Before you get cock deep in this update, let me give you a little character development. Alex is one of the few people that has met me through my dad. I'm really good at changing perspectives and i can imagine it. You go to work for a company, you meet a guy that runs it then you meet his weird looking son who smells of $10 bourbon.

Anyway, alex shows up, we pick up nate and stop by the hardrock to get some flyers to pass out when we get to little rock. At this point im going nuts. Hands refusing to sit still, mental and physical anger, sadness, anxiety…..the only way to end this is to get to hard rock and have a drink.

I walk in, call upon my dear, dear, dear friend andy to mix me a drink. This makes him laugh cuz toad doesn't do shooters, shots or anything that requires drinking really really fast. The whole concept of it makes me ill and i'm ordering “something strong”.

Andy was gone for what seemed like maybe 2 seconds and emerged with a plastic cup with a weird red liquid.

Alabama Slammer
1oz. sloe gin
1oz. Southern Comfort
1oz. Daily's Triple Sec
1oz. Galliano
6oz. orange juice
2 maraschino cherries
1 slice orange, garnish

This fit in my perfectly empty stomach like a OJ's hand. We roll over the bridge, eat at the most fucking ghetto ass subway, watch toad buy another tall boy to drink on the rest of the way there, then we're there.

The party is almost empty, we play a bunch of pool before nate's set then it all gets blurry after that. Nate spun a tight set of some heavy shit that you don't hear in Trancephis,

Ugh anyway, nate gets done spinning and we leave with his friend Lee.

Now i gotta describe Lee for a pargrah or three. Close your eyes and imagine a big black dudes, completely decked out in camo fatigues, not drunk but definetely not sober. Now we're leaving the club, and at this point, i can't see.

I throw the keys to Lee, who i've never met before, and quite scared of, and say “hey b, u wannna taake the wheel?” He's like “yah i like civics”. He moved the seat back and rolled us to one apartment where i got in trouble for putting my foot on their coffee table.

We eventually passed out, for what was probably about 2-3 hours, at Lee's apartment, watching him play Playstation and cursing. We wake up at 10:30, get back on the interstate and then shit gets weird again.

Nate and Alex are hungry. I think their pussies because they wanna “eat their food” and said i'll just watch and drink some water. We stop at this fucking redneck ass diner and eat. I try to choke down anything that looks good but decide coffee and water is best.

I drop Nate off and Alex off and go home.

____________________________________May 04 2003
What i left out of this update is i lost my fucking $450 Nikon 995. Fucking terrible. I wasn't too upset about it after the fact, like “damn, that's fucked up, shit happens tho”, was really okay about it, honest.

About a month passes, my life goes along, i miss my camera dearly, but just chalk it up to “stupid things i do while drunk” and start looking for a new one. One day after eating lunch with John, i decide to grab a 40 and clean the inside of my car. So i'm there at Highland and Southern, vacumming out my car, throwing shit out when i see this strap under the front passenger seat. I'm like “no way, no way”, pull the strap and there's my camera. All the times i had drove around, thinking about pissed at myself for getting caught slipping, and it was right fucking there.

The whole time i'm cleaning my car some homeless guy is hovering over me asking for change and now he's wondering what i have in my hand and why i'm dancing around my car. I drive home, look at the pics, none of which are of any people, mostly of the floor and i think one of a pool table…shrug..

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