I went to the Matt Finish gig the other night with other people who work for Rob at Prior. These people include my drummer Boris, his girlfriend Anna, and some people I hadn’t previously met (at least I don’t think I had) including a nice Russian guy named Shly and two cute girls, Teddy and one of whom was of Asian descent and was named Sise… or Sisset… or something like that. I should really ask for spellings of names when I go out.
How fucking geeky would that look?
[i]”Hi, I’m Leigh. And you’re…? Can I just get that spelled out for me… so cross the t… and… yeah… thanks… yeah… it’s for my blog… that no one reads…”[/i]
Anyway, not content with the night being over already on a Sunday at midnight, Shly, Sise, and Teddy wandered over to Jacksons on George St… and I accompanied.
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[i]Sise & Teddy trying to look retarded.[/i]
Let me just say one thing right now… for a girl of Sise’s size… she likes to drink.
Cocktails. Advanced hyper insane totally whacked out cocktails. Or beer. Go figure. She had three hyper whacked out cocktails from The Basement that night and then a beer at Jacksons. I’m not sure how you start so high and end up with beer… nor am I sure if she was heaving her previous dinners out the next morning… but still…
It sounds like such a charming thing to ask.
[i]”Hiiiiiii…. soooo…. watchaaa doiiiiinnn…. how yaaaa feeeelllliiiinn…. andbytheway… you didn’t happen to heave everything you ate last night on the account of mixing drinks because if you did I’d like to know if you swallowed a spare key or even possibly a spare lock because I’ve lost both a spare key and a spare lock or even possibly one of my socks as they always seem to go missing?!”[/i]
[b]What’s that you say, reader? Yes! I have lost my mind![/b]
To be totally honest, I’m not sure I ever had it in the first place.
Anyway, so we’re at Jacksons and there’s pool tables… and then you know what we’re thinking.
Two guys… two girls… pool tables… liquor…
[b]ORGIES!!![/b]
Let’s get the whole freakin’ bar into some group fuckin-orgies!!!
Actually, we just played pool. Guys vs girls.
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[i]Teddy on the left and Shly on the right with some stick action… yeah, baby…[/i]
And the guys — Shly and myself — were off to a good start… yeah… Shly can play… sort of… and I can play… less sort of-but-only-when-I’m-intoxicated. And I’d only had a little bit of wine. Which meant I was only a little bit intoxicated. Which meant my playing was going to be better than when I was sober… but not much better.
The girls weren’t that good either… so we were evenly matched.
The girls beat us, in fact.
Partly due to the fact that Shly and myself were occasionally sinking their balls for them… not ours.
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[i]Sise takes a shot… and in another shot, falls down laughing…[/i]
But they beat us… fair and square… or rectangular-prismish… I can’t tell… I was never that fantastic at mathematics geometry… 3d geometry, fair… but mathematics geometry… bleh…
[b]Fair, not bleh![/b]
Oh yeah. Go Leigh’s t-shirt slogan ideas! Woot woot!
Upon walking back to the bus stop, I discovered that Sise talks about herself in the third person.
Well now, if Sise can talk about herself in the third person, so can Leigh, so Leigh is going to do just that right now.
Or should he? Leigh’s not exactly sure if he needs to or wants to talk about Leigh in the third person, or whether doing that will make Leigh someone who imitates as opposed what Leigh thinks of himself normally as… someone who creates. Regardless, Leigh probably should contemplate whether or not Leigh speaks in the third person because I might actually make Leigh more like not-like-Leigh and that might make Leigh not so much a better person and not so much a worse person while still being a person.
In the end, Leigh figures he needs help and should probably seek someone from the medical profession.
Leigh would laugh at that if he could, by the way. Hell, he’d laugh if he found where his beret is. Leigh wonders if you know where his beret is. Leigh knows where his fez is. He knows where is yarmlke is. Leigh even know where Elvis is. But Leigh just can’t find his beret.
This is all irrelevant to the blog, probably. But Leigh thinks that the irrelevance is what you come here for.
Leigh’s bus came first that night… so Leigh went home.
Yeah, Leigh thinks it’s a crappy ending for a night as well as a crappy ending for a blog too, so here’s a shot with lots of balls in it to shut you up.
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