The Reverend himself

Some highlights from tonight's pre-drink and the show, Reverend Horton Heat and "guest" (Yeah, I don't know who they were, I was too drunk to care, or pay attention. And yes, I am drunk and writing this.)

• After making it home from shopping downtown, I quickly get my shit together and prepare to leave for Aaron's. I get to Aaron's and he's watching a Ren & Stimpy VHS. I try to catch up with his drinking and have a beer with several interruptions (shots) of my good friend Stoli.
  

• Pretty drunk after chugging a beer and a few shots, I almost fall out of Aaron's wide open window, attempting to take photos of my drunk face before he comes back from the bathroom
  

in the window sill

Cherry beer

• Finally around 7pm, after several shots and a couple of beers each, we decide to leave. But not without another shot of Stoli with lychee juice. Man that shit is good.
  

stolis and lychee juice

• "I'm fucking thirsty. Let's go to the Rio for free water," I say
  

• Unlike my previous drunk visit to the Rio, I do not walk face first into the door. We walk in quietly and behave like civil people. I go to the ladies' room to take a much needed piss. (*Please note: I actually cannot remember my previous drunk visit to the Rio because I was so drunk I blacked out. Due to the amount of alcohol I consumed that night before Fake Blood, my brain cannot recall what happened when I visited the Rio. I had to be told, the next day, when I worked a shift hungover, what exactly happened. It involved attempts at a Jamaican accent and being escorted outside for being too rowdy.)
  

• Back to real time: Paul is wearing his green shirt featuring a ginormous octopus devouring a man. I tell him, Alex and Meg: "I will remember this, for I am not that drunk. I will not blackout and forget this. I will remember this moment because Paul is wearing his green shirt with the octopus. There is no way I can forget this." Meg turns to Aaron. "Please watch her."
  

• We get downtown. The line is fucking long. We both need to pee. Aaron wants to run into Starbucks. I say, Fuck that, I'm going to McDonalds. He follows me and then decides to buy fries. We then wait in line, eating McDonalds' fries doused in vinegar and pepper. Yum.
  

• We get in. After we were ID'd. We were the only two people ID'd since the doors opened, only because in comparison to everyone else, we look like we're 16. Everyone else was old.
  

• We find a table. Blonde chick server comes over. We order drinks.
  

• WTF? Drinks are being served in plastic cups? Since when? Shit. Maybe they think the crowd is gonna get real rowdy tonight. I realize later that "rowdy" does not even capture what was to happen later on
  

• "Guest" comes on. Not bad, pretty fun to dance to. Either way, forgettable.
  

• We order gin&tonics
  

• Rev Horton Heat played for what seemed like eternity, and I was in ecstasy. I was (...still am) so drunk that I began to praise and thank Jesus for all the fun I was having. Seriously, I ACTUALLY YELLED, "YES! JESUS! THANK YOU! PRAISE JESUS!" (*Please note: I have not been to church in over a year and I do not follow Catholic doctrine)
  

• I may not have been Tucker Max Drunk, but I was at least nearly shit-housed to the point of talking to whoever was around me and helping people who had drinks get by us. Despite my attempts to be helpful, I still got beer dumped on my head and pretty much the rest of me. My clothes actually smell like a nasty mix of beer, sweat, smoke, and did I mention SWEAT?
  

• If it wasn't for Aaron Goodman, I would have gotten my pretty little skull trampled, at least thrice, by hundreds of Rev Horton Heat fans
  

• I at least walked away with: two black eyes, Commodore Ballroom floor burns on a knee and an elbow, a collapsed lung, the clap, a busted lip, and a new bruise buddy beside the bruise I already had on my kneecap (from Fake Blood a few weeks ago)
  

Alright, alright. I may have exaggerated the injuries. But all in all, a very good night was had indeed. I think Aaron is the one with the busted lip though. He tried to fight this fat guy for a guitar pick. Then that guy's friends pulled Aaron away. One of the friends was some tool in a sweat-soaked white deep V-neck, and he wanted to fight Aaron. I stepped in between them and grabbed Aaron and said, Let's get the fuck out of here. We later discussed how much we wished we had actually fought those guys. Man I wanna get in a fight so bad. I wanna at least get a busted lip from being in a fight, unlike that time at LFA when I got a busted lip during flag football and then lied about getting it in a fight. Fuck that.

At the very least, I've got a bruise on my left arm above my elbow. ***[UPDATE] The bruise on my arm? It's actually the shape of a hand. As in, I got grabbed by the arm and was violently thrown aside.*** And for the second time this weekend, I feel like I had an amazing workout. My biceps have been sore since Friday and are even worse now. Thanks, boys.