Just got back, haven’t slept since yesterday, so I might be a little hazy on the details, but this is my take on the people:
In general, I just want to reiterate what astoundingly beautiful people these were, both physically and emotionally, especially me. But enough with this slapdash tomfoolery. Let’s get down to specifics.
We’ll start with the guests of honor:
First, everybody’s favorite mod, Manhattan, flew in all the way from Amsterdam, which I believe is somewhere in Northern Africa, just to drink American beer with a bunch of computer geeks. That just plain rocks, in my opinion, even though he made the rather glaring social faux pas of not bringing any illicit drugs from his native land to share. Still, he spoke with a funny accent, so you had to love him.
Then there’s Shayna, who also flew across the Indian Ocean from Bohemia just to be with her beau, Spiny Norman, who quite conveniently lives about 20 yards (due south as the crow shits) from the motel, in a quaint little basement underneath the liquor store. Spiny was an extremely accomodating host, arranging food and shelter and activities and cheese doodles for all of us, so I say, “Hats off to you, sir! And while we’re at it, pants!” None of this would have been possible without you. I didn’t hear much from Shayna, but she was probably severely jet-lagged and recovering from the nasty case of cholera brought on by our new-fangled American water supply. Hope to see more of you next time, hon, if you can make it out again.
Now then. I always look forward to seeing my fellow BADs again, so it was with great delight that I eagerly cornholed pricciar as soon as he arrived from wherever the hell it is he lives. He truly has the eyebrows of a Zen master. He is also, truth be told, the absolute funniest person walking the face of the earth (now that Morey Amsterdam’s dead). He was even thoughtful enough to make me a mix CD, with cover and everything. No, wait, that was me who burned it for him. Confound you, Pat, you’re a rapscallion and a cuckold! Jackanapes.
Doob was, as usual, a taste of pure sweet honey, although his whole flamboyant flaming bit is getting a bit old. Turn it down a notch, Liberace, this is the 90s. You’re only playing into the straight culture’s hands with that Uncle Tom act. Even so, you smelled like a hundred bucks. We’ve decided you and pric should have your own sitcom. We had all kinds of grand schemes until the alcohol wore off, actually. In the cold light of day it now seems rather foolish. A thousand apologies.
Everyone knows how I hate to gossip, but I’m feeling extra crispy right now, so motherfuck decorum: I’m pretty sure Demo and Psycat hooked up at this Dopefest, and it looks like they may actually try to make a go of dating. I’m sorry, guys, but you were being pretty obvious. Let me know if you ever need a chaperone. I own an Austrian national who would be perfectly suited to that type of work. We’ll talk later,away from Nosey Nellies.
Sue Duhnym was, as always, simply Jiffy-Pop in human form, and though she has trouble differentiating between houses and condos, we still love her for her gorgeous sinuses. sea was lovely and shitfaced as usual, as was Kyla, all of whom, along with non-BAD Manservant Hecubus and, I believe, a couple Mexican hookers and a captured seagull, rented a limo to go out clubbing. There was some trouble with the car, however, and tragically they were all killed when sea’s underwear became a conductor for some sparks off a grease fire in the trunk and they went up in flames. I’m sure they died heroically, though, and not at all like stuck pigs.
Now, for the people I was really looking forward to meeting:
And next, the ones I felt a sort of tepid goodwill towards:
katiekilldare, who many said resembled Garth Brooks or Brooks & Dunn or somebody, was very lifelike in many respects, as well as in many You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Womans, although here’s some free fashion advice from a friend: Why all the black, sad clown? Come on, the Sisters Of Mercy and Bauhaus broke up years ago. From what I hear, the cool kids are wearing flannel these days, and listening to some type of music I believe they call “sludge” coming out of the Pacific Northwest. Buy stock now. Anyhoo, even though we’ve been online friends for nearly a decade (3 months), I was quite shocked to learn that katie was actually a man. And all this time, we could have been talking about how big our penises were on AIM. That’s time that can never be replaced.
Fran was a darling little elfkin who fit in the palm of your hand and constantly repeated that old chant of “Pink hearts, yellow moons, green clovers, blue diamonds…” in that adorable accent, which I believe was French. Her SO, Alex, was quite charming as well, even if I couldn’t understand a single damn word coming out of his filthy Frog mouth. We took them to all the Cali hotspots, such as Lenscrafters and Rite-Aid, so they could get a feel for our culture. Then we butchered them like wild billy goats.
And there were many other dopers, both bearded and clean-shaven, that I must mention, but I do believe I’ll go pass out in a pool of my own natural juices now. I can’t wait to get to thinksnow.
