I'm Not

On the the ninth day, God created Xanax.

True statement.

Saturday, June 27th.
1030p::Flo'rida, Michael Phelps, and yours truly, Madison Wisconsin, furiously swallow one half a magic z-bar each and jump in a cab.
11p::The three arrive at the movie theatre. A large popcorn is bought. The movie begins. What where the previews? Couldn't tell ya.
11?p::Flo'Rida and Phelps swallow their other halves as I sneak to the bathroom for a quick nose potty break and a snort.
11?p-1240a:: ...... There was something to do with a slave and virgins in a fire. I can tell you nothing else.
1245a:: Walk home. I remember that this happened, but I don't remember it happening. Does that make sense?
1a-5a:: WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED! WHY ARE ALL THESE HOURS MISSING FROM MY LIFE!?!?!

Flo'Rida passed out on my bed early. At some point, the small and twitchy roommate arrived home, accompanied by JereMayBeGay. The breeze was shot, I suppose. JereMayBeGay swallowed a half before retreating to Mitchel's room. He returned several hours? minutes? days? light years? later and snorted a line, stating, "I MUST be listening to Californication while I snort this!" And thus it was.

The night continued. At some point, I cheered Phelps on like a frat pledge trying a kegstand as he successfully snorted two lines without a bloody nose. We all cheered each other on, really.

Somehow, hours went by. Photographic evidence proved we were outside at 530a. We passed a possum sitting on a railing. It just kind of sat there and stared at us. Then Phelps put a cup on its head which it hissed angrily at. But it still sat there and posed as we took pictures with it.

The discovery of this photo led them to another realization. Sometime before stepping outside, the lack of grass was discovered. There was none. Whatsoever. Then JereMayBeGay suggested a decision so vile, it can only be blamed on the copious amounts of Xanax. JMBG (so long to type!) mentioned he knew where his neighbor kept her stash. I have absolutely no idea how this story goes. Long story short, we broke into her house at 4am and looked around. Pretty nice place. Then, I suppose we realized we were in someone else's house. Literally. This makes no sense. But I REMEMBER NOTHING!

Then we came back to the house. Phelps began what he later described as a luxiously slow bike ride home around 6:30 and I crashed. Hard.

Oh, I also gave Phelps $10 to get me herb. Seriously, this is all very confusing. I don't know.

In the morning, Phelps gave me a call and told me his guy fell through. Biked all the way back to give me my money. Then we made calls to other people. And then it was found. So he biked away to get it for me. OH, by the way Big Ben may be back in the game and playing it cheap. More news on that later.

After some patient waiting, Flo'Rida got home from work. Big Tony ditched on our quality time and Phelps arrived shortly after. The three of us watched some Weeds and smoked some. Eventually, Flo'Rida hit the hay. That's when Phelps and I tried to figure out the previous night. And yet, to no avail. And now JereMayBeGay is here again. Nothing makes sense. Ever.

Haven't done any z-bars tonight, but the memory of the no memory was tight as shit. Time meant nothing. And I have no recollection of ANY of it.

Sweet.

Well. Off to indulge. This is great for my sleep schedule.

À bientôt,
Madison Wisconsin