404: Time Not Found
Since I last updated (and I don't mean a week ago, you moron!), I have had a few experiences worth note. Unfortunately, I had to reformat my computer and lost all of my chatlogs which are the only way I can recall those memories, so I'll just give you a brief fly-by:
December: Still in school (cue epic foreshadowing music) and cold. Christmas break markedly lamer than last year's acid-fest at Nikolai's house. Still, drinks were drunk and a good time was had by all.
January: Boring, anti-climactic New Years, but that is how I like it. All the cool kids get drunk on the roughly 330 days of the year that aren't holidays. Moved out of the folk's house for the second time, after much delay and consternation about a stove. The first of many "mega-parties" occurs, and the USA is well represented by me against a paltry offering by Australia in the first annual winter drinking Olympics.
February: A waning interest in school marks this month, spurred by the hugely obvious revelation that my classmates are supreme dunces. Many beers had by all.
March: I ostensibly drop out of school at this point and begin looking for a job. Life is bleak, meaningless, and monotonous. Even drugs and alcohol begin to lose their lustre.
April: It is around this time that Teo begins hosting parties at his house, attended by various degenerates at various degrees of degeneration. Beer replaced by liquor as the official drink of the USA team. 4/20 is such a disaster that I consider giving up weed for good, but settle on reduced use. To elaborate, the 4/20 plan was to get copious amounts of weed, smoke it, eat weed cookies, have a decent BBQ and then make merry afterwards with my closest and most cherished friends. The dealer flaked, the cookies were weak, the BBQ occurred during debilitating darkness and the meat was nearly raw on the inside and charred black on the outside. There were no utensils and burns were suffered by all. After this fiasco, we returned to my house and finally managed to "cop", but, just as things were finally taking a turn for the groovy, some assholes who will remain unnamed (just kidding, fuck you Victor and Nick) assaulted me with their sheer disregard for my ears.
May: Same as April, fucked up and depressed.
June: Hurray! I'm a 20-year-old failure! At least that's how the month begins. However, I finally begin to regain my notorious disregard for my own well-being and start to enjoy myself again. I also finally realize just how good I am at music and decide to adopt Nick as my hapless young ward. Much time is spent practicing in various forms of consciousness, and many well-played, though ill-attended, shows are performed by the Sedgwick Machine. Additionally, Oliver's party season begins and I'm introduced to some very interesting people. Tangentially, new-age hippies are a pathetic and ineffectual lot who care more about jerking each other off and selling over-priced bullshit than actually contributing anything to society (I'm looking at you, Chapel of Sacred Mirrors).
July: So far, no job, but I'm optimistic, even if naively. Hopefully I'll have some good luck soon, else I reckon it's hanging time!
That concludes this segment of Eli Lamb: The Greatest Mind of the 21st Century. Come back next time for some real, down-home jokery!
P.S. R.I.P George Carlin
December: Still in school (cue epic foreshadowing music) and cold. Christmas break markedly lamer than last year's acid-fest at Nikolai's house. Still, drinks were drunk and a good time was had by all.
January: Boring, anti-climactic New Years, but that is how I like it. All the cool kids get drunk on the roughly 330 days of the year that aren't holidays. Moved out of the folk's house for the second time, after much delay and consternation about a stove. The first of many "mega-parties" occurs, and the USA is well represented by me against a paltry offering by Australia in the first annual winter drinking Olympics.
February: A waning interest in school marks this month, spurred by the hugely obvious revelation that my classmates are supreme dunces. Many beers had by all.
March: I ostensibly drop out of school at this point and begin looking for a job. Life is bleak, meaningless, and monotonous. Even drugs and alcohol begin to lose their lustre.
April: It is around this time that Teo begins hosting parties at his house, attended by various degenerates at various degrees of degeneration. Beer replaced by liquor as the official drink of the USA team. 4/20 is such a disaster that I consider giving up weed for good, but settle on reduced use. To elaborate, the 4/20 plan was to get copious amounts of weed, smoke it, eat weed cookies, have a decent BBQ and then make merry afterwards with my closest and most cherished friends. The dealer flaked, the cookies were weak, the BBQ occurred during debilitating darkness and the meat was nearly raw on the inside and charred black on the outside. There were no utensils and burns were suffered by all. After this fiasco, we returned to my house and finally managed to "cop", but, just as things were finally taking a turn for the groovy, some assholes who will remain unnamed (just kidding, fuck you Victor and Nick) assaulted me with their sheer disregard for my ears.
May: Same as April, fucked up and depressed.
June: Hurray! I'm a 20-year-old failure! At least that's how the month begins. However, I finally begin to regain my notorious disregard for my own well-being and start to enjoy myself again. I also finally realize just how good I am at music and decide to adopt Nick as my hapless young ward. Much time is spent practicing in various forms of consciousness, and many well-played, though ill-attended, shows are performed by the Sedgwick Machine. Additionally, Oliver's party season begins and I'm introduced to some very interesting people. Tangentially, new-age hippies are a pathetic and ineffectual lot who care more about jerking each other off and selling over-priced bullshit than actually contributing anything to society (I'm looking at you, Chapel of Sacred Mirrors).
July: So far, no job, but I'm optimistic, even if naively. Hopefully I'll have some good luck soon, else I reckon it's hanging time!
That concludes this segment of Eli Lamb: The Greatest Mind of the 21st Century. Come back next time for some real, down-home jokery!
P.S. R.I.P George Carlin
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