Regina, Friday

This night I went venturing into society with my slightly older slightly extremely Indian friend. If you are reading this, friend, I'm sorry, but you smoke hookah for chrissake. It was a great party even though my friend had to pay 10$ for me to get in and there was 0% chance of him getting laid since I was still sore from last night.

The band was called SnapJack and the Knock on Woods. (I think) I'll look them up. They play at The Golden Bear, and if you don't know what that is, I'm sorry for you. I love them, the bluegrass bastards. They are so wily! On a whim, I wrote down a fave song of mine on a napkin and put it by their set list. Instantly a look of horror passed across their faces; they had never played it together, but they knew it. After a minute of whispers, they played it. It was great, but i guess they didn't know the words cuz they didnt sing it. Here is the jist of it:

BILE DEM CABBAGES DOWN BOYS
TURN DEM HOECAKES ROUN'
ONLY SONG THAT I CAN SING
IS BILE THEM CABBAGES DOWN

I went crazy of course. Later the main dude tapped me on my bare back and made me jump out of my skin. He wanted to apologize for not doing it better. I said, "No I loved it, you guys are my new favorite Bluegrass group!" So in all modesty, I think I made his night. My skin was glowing with the fervor of being both very high strung and incredibly randy.

I started feeling really shitty physically around 11. There was no veggie food there and I was starving. I dragged my friend from his hookah and he drove me home. I had left my keys on my bed, so we had to force entry. Then I started to feel like I was so tired and achy that if I fell asleep, I would never wake up. So of course I talked to my imaginary friend until 4AM about nothing but myself. He was really tired but he made me feel better. That's what imaginary friends are for. Maybe someday he will be a real boy. And I will fuck him into a coma.