Subtitled: Examples of Rageaholism in Modern Society

Semple Fest is a yearly extravaganza of black out proportions that takes place on my block. It is not sanctioned by anyone except Bacchus himself. On this journey I will try and provide as accurate a time line and description of events as is humanly possible, but in the aftermath of a shit-storm, few people are truly able to remember the facts. Some Names have been omitted or changed to protect the guilty, but the essence of the tale remains in tact.

Thursday

The time I usually get home from work (4:30PM): I decide to go and get beer (not enough) the day before the rager. God knows that I will want to get home and open one as soon as possible to start the festivities on Friday. After this, it starts as a peaceful afternoon of ice cold Molson Canadians on the porch, but quickly turns a little rowdy. Around 8 PM the Roots play a free show at Carnegie Mellon University. (They may be Poins, but they get good bands).

Friday

Friday is when the real fun begins. I get home from work around the usual time, and can’t even turn down my block because it is full of people raging their heads off on the first really nice day of the year. I park down the block and get Sticky Keys (the band leader) to come help get more booze.

Then the fun begins…people start wandering up to my porch, beer is drank, dirty cops beat the living piss out of some drunk right in front of us for our amusement. More people come, more beer is drank, more raging accomplished, shots, beer, shots, yelling, shots, dancing, beer…you get the idea. (I feel this is a good time to interject that at this point there are hundreds of people on the block…in the street…on rooftops, and porches. The cops are powerless to do anything for fear of a drunken riot.)

Sundown

Everyone knows that the real hard raging is done under cover of darkness. Sunlight has the effect of most people keeping their wits about them. But when the sun goes down…

Sometime around now, I find out the greatest hockey team that ever was created in the history of mankind just was eliminated from the playoffs. The sun’s down. I open up my fifth of jack and commence getting completely out of control.

After dark

At this point, most people do not have too much sanity left in them, and things start getting fun. Here are some highlights:

Guy that used to live in my apartment comes up and finds out who lives here (me), asks if I ever found his boa constrictor he misplaced. (no, too bad).

Friend:Goes into the street and flexes his muscles;

Drunk Girl: “Hey, I saw you flexing”

Friend: “Yeah you did.”

making out

(I was thoroughly impressed).

I got rowdy and decided I didn’t want anyone underage in my home, so I started asking for ID’s. The dumbfounded look on people’s faces when I asked was priceless. It didn’t work to well though because my vision was sideways, and I was sure everyone’s birthday said 1942.

A couple of beer runs

Late Night

After sometime things got really hazy. The only real memory most people have is few large fires made of dumpsters, old couches, and the like. The fire department came, but they had fun too

Sometime

Passed out (past doubt)

Saturday

For some reason, after a night full of ragin’ and slangin’ whiskey I like to wake up early. Plus, I had a few people calling me up looking for their keys, wallets, minds, and hats and such. Broken glass was everywhere, people were wondering still drunk through the streets, sluts were walking home with their panties in their hands and that look of complete self-loathing disgust on their face as they get on the phone to schedule their VD test. It was an enjoyable morning.

near 9:30AM

A friend walks into my place, goes directly to the fridge, “What the fuck? There’s no beer left.” A solid statement.

That’s the end, I guess the moral of the story is: rage hard, because someday you might be the drunk guy getting his ass kicked by an overweight cop at five in the afternoon. (or, start working out so you can pick up drunk ladies with your muscles). I apologize for the lack of pictures, but I have not uncovered any in my minutes of searching.

As an aside, I’ve been rockin’ The Gorillaz Vs. Space Monkey lately, I recommend it.

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(This all occurred between Sunday May 19th and Monday the 20th)
So where to begin, okay, I drove to Sedona AZ yesterday. Well okay, actually I drove to Flagstaff yesterday and drove to Sedona this mornings but you know, whatever.
"Why?", may be what crosses your mind, well there are a few different perspectives on that one. First off, I had to get away, I became sickened with myself for being sickened with everyone else. I’m sick of pervy, drunk friends from out of town(can’t really get into that one, but trust me you’d be pissed too), I’m sick of not having my own space, I have my own room, but it doesn’t matter when a clown car pulls up in your kitchen to cook thanksgiving dinner while doing this . Yeah, you know I’m exaggerating but you know what I mean, sukka. On top of that being blown off for the umpteempth time by someone makes you feel like crap. I was feeling crowded and being ignored all at the same time. There I was, facing west on historic Route 66, I couldn’t go home (did I mention that along with the Red Lobster buffet extravaganza, that we had a drunken imp wreaking obnoxious havoc all over the house?) and all my other options blew me off. So I had no where to go until I remembered my favorite show UFO Hunters, there was this episode where they talk about vortexes(vortices?) and how aliens use them to travel around and shit. Does this sound crazy? Well it just so happens that I am part of an insectoid alien race, well a human/alien hybrid, well actually I am a hybrid of many different species and races but the important one for right now is the insects from outer space. You see, I am ready to try my luck on a home away from home, maybe the hive mind collective wouldn’t be so bad, I mean, whenever I run into the Earth-stragglers we come to a consensus rather quickly, and none of my bug-brothers would invite over a loud jackass to stay at my house. So there I was staring out into the great beyond, I had to leave. I felt suffocated yet completely alone. I figured I would do something different, tired of making the same mistakes, getting my hopes up on others and being sickened by others’ happiness (oh, and did I mention the loud inebriated tird lurking in my house?) My trip started at around 8:30pm, when I realized that going about my days as I was only brought me in circles. I decided to do something different, because to tell you the truth, I love my friends (even the perv-tards), I am happy they are happy, but I need some peace of mind, I need to not place my contentment in the hands of others. Everything I have done up until 8:30pm yesterday has brought me to where I am: facing west, relying on others to make or break me, and quite frustrated. I drove, unweary, the five hours of solitude to Flagstaff were focused and determined,(with sick road music for the occasion, which I will list in my next post) I would of went to Sedona, but have you seen the road to Sedona from Flagstaff ? Feeling a little tired at this point, I bunked in Flagstaff. I pulled into The Days Inn off of exit 201 in Flagstaff, next time you’re there tell Paul Keshav I sent you. He hooked me up with the mini suite with the sweet discount. The next day I got up early, figured I needed to set my alarm to get up and catch the first ship off this rock, plus I wanted the sweet continental breakfast, figured since I’m changing it up I might as well get up and check this hotel breakfast shit out, never been up early enough before. A funny thought occurred to me when I woke up, it was as if I awoke from a drunk tirade and asked myself, "What the hell was I thinking?" I can’t believe I drove all the way out here, if I leave now, I can make it home by…. woah woah woah , wait a sec…What happened to the whole turning over a new leaf blah blah blah. Fuck it. I’m staying. I’m going to get breakfast and catch a flight to my new home. On a side note, There were these thirty-something French ladies grabbing the most important meal as well, it was so funny, they didn’t know how to use the toaster. This older Native American lady had to show them, "No this one is too hot, you need to let the toaster cool down the bread won’t stay down, here… use this toaster instead." The French lady marveled in her own French way and thanked the elder native – dude, even the toasters are dividing us… or
are they bringing us together?.
In my head I figured that to find these vortices I would intrinsically wander upon some hippie vortex crystal store—I was right, that is exactly what happened. I drove the windy(turny, swirvy?) road to Sedona and drove the main strip until I found the store I never knew existed. Walked in and was greeted with a smile and an indistinct western European accent. I explained to the lovely blonde lady that I was looking for a vortex or two, I was expecting it to be a three hour journey into the desert, but this time I was wrong, "The nearest one is down the road, make a right at the first light out of here and head to the top of the hill on the left, it’s right on the side of the road." Dude. Por serio?
Well, I asked her what I owed for her time and she said don’t worry about it, she even printed me out a map and a description of four vortices in the area. So I went to my first vortex, I won’t bore you with my experience inside the crux of over ten dimensions meshing together in the ether around my earthly frame, but i can tell you this: One: the mothership said it would be back for me on their next go ’round, and Two: there was this blind dude doing Tai Chi atop the rocky dome as his buddy sat with his seeing-eye dog. When blind dude was done, he walked slowly over to his friend and said in a serious awestruck tone, "Woah, that was amazing." If I wasn’t also caught up in the twisted tornado of mystery I may have laughed, but I actually had other things on my mind. I was disappointed that the mothership left me to deal, when those insectoid aliens make up their mind, there is no convincing them otherwise.

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Fuck That!

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Blame the tornados, blame the Department of Defense, (the guys who pay me (sort of), blame Southwest Airlines, blame Sleepy. I missed it…my favorite musician, Ellen Allien, playing in San Francisco last Friday. But YouTube can rub it in my face, or at least a dark, low quality version of it. Notice the classic Battlestar Galactica Cylons and Vipers on screen.

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