Since the school year ran out things have been fuckin' crazy. Actually, they were crazed at the end of school as well. As usual, I don't learn any lessons that seem to have practical application, because my actions/inactions never have disagreeable consequences. For ill or worse, I failed a class and I have another semester at Marist. And I mean ill in the thuggish sense, because it is gonna be incredible and it may be the one thing I wanted more than anything.
Got a sick new apartment in pokipse, my bedroom is bigger than our living room. I’m livin’ with Annie & Goggles, so that should be pretty fucking interesting. We live next to a Methodist church... lovely. I haven't woken up there on a Sunday yet, I've been all over.
Senior week ranked pretty high as far as greatest lifetime experiences go. It was such a perfect shitshow.
After that was all done most of the 2 Much Fun Klub stayed in potown at least until leases ran out June 1st, fixing up Orchard was ridonkulous. But, by the will of the force (and spackling/painting every wall/ceiling, & carpet cleaning) we didn't get sued. That fucker did steal my immobilized CRX though. I might wait till he tries to chop it and press charges on him haha.
After wrapping up endless loose ends, drifting, sleeping on couches, etc.. I threw together a last-minute effort for a hot-run to bonnaroo a couple days beforehand. It was obviously fantastic. Dave drove his civic, with me, gregg, and clance in extremely tight quarters for the 13hrs. Jono, Scott, and 3 rando's camped right infront of us, and strangely enough Brian Carle was like 4 tents over.
Bonnaroo was a violent & dizzy lovefrenzy of great music/people/times as always. No rain this year; that was tough, but we are professionals.
I still don't have a job. World/Inferno and Leftover Crack are both in Europe and it's driving me nuts.
My passport probably won't even get here this summer if these cocksucking bureaucrats don't get their act together.
I’m trying to free V from post-rehab nazi-boot camp, but those fuckers won’t let my letters get through and I cannot organize a breakout without specs, info, and cooperation from the inside. We are serious people and I know that writing in code would work. I even used my reverend credentials to try and get that shit through, but its not working out. The ULC doesn’t work on everybody. Keith did agree to fly him anywhere he needs to go first class once he's over the fence (out of the complex).
Friday night I hit the recovery room to meet up with Tom Marron, Pfeifer, and Terrie. It was ridiculous, excellent, and absurd. The bouncer caught me climbing off the roof around closing time, although my excuse was perfect Terrie blew up my spot. Who cares though? I didn’t even get banned… although any self-respecting establishment would have posted my picture somewhere with a sharpie-marketed bullet in the head. Was too fucked up to drive, passed out in my car,.. And eh, left the car running, windows down, ipod blasting… well, life is for living. Too bad gas is so fuckin’ expensive.
Last night I made a game time call to drive to New Paltz for a kegger even though I had to be back on LI reasonably early, it was a good decision and a real powder keg of a shindig.
As I just said to Kaitlyn, I needed 500milligrams of Hudson Valley injected into my neck, and that’s what last night was.
So I guess that covers it for another month? We’ll see. Abiit, excessit, evasit, erupit.