Saturday, June 15, 2002

i heart making out with dogs

Whoo!, right now I can hear the sound of agitated bourgeoisie youth outside the library - the sound of individuals trying to make themselves heard - people with energy to expend and a cause to guide them - there are a bunch of activists kids outsidethe library tuning up guitars and stuff in the square, getting ready to blare some good ol' punk rock to coincide with the US Mayor's Conference that is occuring in Madison this weekend. After we leave the library - after Bonnie gets her internet fix, which she hasn't gotten in a week or so because of PIRG - we are going to go join the activists and attend some workshops.

Last night, I had mentioned that Bonnie and I were all excited about going to eighties night. Well, we drove to the motherfucking Cardinal Bar, and could see that it was just that, a bar, and that no one was dancing, and that the clientele was professional thirtysomethings. Our asses, which needed some good shaking, did not like the looks of the place, so we went home, got the address for the gay club, Club 5, and were on our way. We got there, got some drinks at the bar, and then uh-uh-uh, shook our little tooshes to the cheesiest gay house music you could conjur on your computer mixing programs, or if you're old school, on your little technics. We don't even think the place had a real DJ, we think it was just some preprogrammed mix tape they were playing. But, it was fun and we were real wild, and I got to dance like I haven't gotten to dance since I was at New College. There were lots of hot lesbians that were dancing real wild, and one, a miss Stacey, that Bonnie kept on trying to dance near. There were two boys that both Bonnie and I thought were super cute, but hello, I am a wimp and did not talk to them, of course. What happened instead, is that this guy that was booty dancing with Bonnie came and started dancing with me. This person was probably barely five feet and his name was Armando and he was grosser than the grosset person you could dread to encounter at a club. Grosser than gross. But, since I am not very good at turning people down, I danced with him, bootydanced with him for a breif while, and tried to break away, looking desperatly for Bonnie, but Armando kept on pulling me closer to him, and everytime I would try to politely break away, he would just pull me close to him again. I finally told him that I was going to go dance with my friend (Bonnie), but then he came over too. And so, I left the two of them to dance, hoping that I could finally break away from Armando. They danced for a while and then the song ended and I saw Armando making his way towards me again, so I thought that I would sit down on a chair so that that way I wouldn't have to dance with him. Well, bad idea. The little smelly runt came and sat on my lap, and I was far too drunk to be real assertive or even clever enough to get this wretch of a person off of me. And soon, he was making out with me, and again, I kept on trying to close my mouth, to sort of bring the kiss to a close, and to peck him on the lips to let him know that this kiss was over, but he just kept on sucking my face with his gross, satly lips. Ish. I finally somehow managed to get him off my lap and told him my ride was leaving. And then, the yucko asked if he could get a ride. And I was like, no, she doesn't have much gas in her car. And what does he say: he'll pay for gas. What a fucking gentleman. I just sort of ran towards Bonnie, hoping that we could leave quick, but she is at the bar exchanging numbers with Poochie, and yes that is her name, and she is appearantly "a bottom," as she said on the card she gave Bonnie. But this exchaning on digits allowed Armando to find his way back to me, where he was gross and grabbing me and kissing me, and trying to come back with us, and this is when I finally got somewhat assertive and started pushing him away when he tried to touch me. Fucking pig. After Bonnie and Poochie were through, I made Bonnie rush to her car and lock the doors once we were inside so Armando could not come near me anymore. Once we were in motion, I rolled down my window and spit, spit, spit the nastiness of Armando that I was sure was still in my mouth out on to the ground, out of me, my fucking body, the pig was still in me, I wanted to hurl, to cleanse myself, to be clean. I felt so dirty. I would rather have made out with my old dogs than with Armando - and I have, I made out with my dogs when I was a teen, making out with dogs is so fun. Because they just love to kiss you and I love to kiss them. And you know you've made out with a dog at some point in your life. And yes, I would rather have made out with a dog than with salty Armando.

I got home and brushed my teeth right away. Then I ate some cake and ice cream with Bonnie and felt much better. Tonight is the Mates of State free show at the Terrace that we are going to go to. And chances are fairly good that will be drizzityunk like a skittyunk since the grocery stores here sell hard liquor, and today we stold some finlandia, bacardi o, tequila, and wine. Madison, how I love thee, let me count the ways.

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