Party on Wayne

We were at the club, we scanned the room, scanned all the young hotties shaking their stuff. We started with a beer, a smoke and all the charisma we could spare. We were on the prowl. Now I am the first one to note, I don’t remember much about that night. I remember the early hours, the early run, tripping out on X and dancing to “Suck on my Lollypop by the DJ Alligator project. I remember the flashing lights, the feeling completeness thanks to the buzz and hitting on the tasty pieces of tail that clogged the dance floor. I do recall going up to the DJ booth that stood about 50 meters above the dance floor.

I guess I blacked out after that. I guess I had a great time. When I finally came out of my dace, some guy was throwing plastic shot glasses at me. I guess I was half passed out in a booth with Dr. Jones and Samitch. I guess I was half passed out. Fuck, what did I care? I sobered up, had a few more beers as we waited for Double J to return from his journey. I had two numbers in my pocket. Tracey and Amy. Who were these girls? I had no idea. I guess it’s safe to say that you don’t want to take the chance. The beauty could be a whale for all I know.

Finally we staggered home. Double J, Dr. Jones, Samitch, Double J’s sister, the freaky hot chick that looked like Bif Naked, and myself. We slept on a hard floor with no pillows or blankets. A fat joint sent us all to sleep. Tomorrow, we would see Tool in concert