Thursday, March 26, 2009

I was having a party. Someone had some pot. A weirdly thin, hot-burning joint. I took it and put it in my mouth and lit it with another joint that came from somewhere. I held it a good, long time and as I exhaled I felt high right away. A few people marveled at how much smoke I took.

"Yeah," I said, "I'm so high already my hands are sweating!" My hands were sweating like crazy.

Later, some drunk people began to fuck with some things in the house. It was my house, or more properly my parents' house. But it was, in fact, no house I'd ever lived in. People discovered some priceless housewares from Czarist Russia, things like silver salt shakers, that were packed away in the dining room. They were unwrapping them from their delicate, embroidered cloths and putting them on the dining room table. I don't know if they were going to take them or what. I was trying to contain the situation.

Later, someone stole a whole roast turkey. I felt greatly injured by this, personally injured. I discovered that it was stolen by Jay H., a notorious ne'er-do-well from my hometown. I felt a bit sorry for him then.