Whimsical Weekend

April 28th, 2002

Question: How many artsy fartsy coffee-house kids can you fit in a one bedroom apartment on a Friday night?

Friday was the Back Alley Dirt Fashion Show, and it was incredible. At this party there were kids with afros and dreadlocks, kids with precarious piercings, kids with faces slashed with black charcoal. At this party there were kids spinning vinyl Michael Jackson on the turn table, and kids spinning in stilleto heels atop orange milk crates.

One girl danced with the wall, the floor, and anybody she could get her hands on. (This included me, and Smug Ell!) This girl’s black and white dress could make J-Lo blush, with it’s open back and deep cuts on the sides. Many times during the night this scandalous frock threatened to reveal the contents of it’s model, as the redheaded whirling dervish flailed her way about the apartment. The flight of the carrot-top bumble bee has been voyeristically documented by friends, and will be available online soon for your viewing pleasure.

The CT showed up to photograph models in torrid embraces, and models moving like go-go dancers under red wall hangings. And SORM showed up to do some photographs for the IHOH. Witness for yourself the mayhem at the BADFS friday night! (Please note, the toilet photo was a featured attraction at the event, and was posted in a prominent location. Consequently, I became known as “that girl in the toilet photo.” I feel almost famous.)

In addition to the craziness of Friday night, I also had a v. unique experience Saturday when I attended the BYOM (Bring Your Own Meat) BBQ. I ended up spending an evening with the Smug One eating grilled hot dogs, and discussing such topics as fly fishing, child birth, revolution, and the virtues of dating girls from Christian Schools. I met lots of fascinating/ uncomfortably strange people including a male nurse with pierced nipples and a tattoo that read, “Punk Rock Forever,” and a guy who farted a tribute to Tech Tow.

I am not making any of this stuff up.

The hottest point of the evening came, quite literally, when a kid singed his eyelashes off. Although we had eaten earlier in the evening, this kid, we will call him “Maku,” decided to restart the old grill at about midnight. When the coals didn’t get hot enough to cook his bananas and corn, Maku decided to douse the grill with lighting fluid. Then, peering over the grill, Maku lit a match. Flames sprung up, like a fiery fountain, and singed Maku’s eyelashes off.

Maku confided, it was no big deal. He had burned the hair off his body before. Apparently on Easter there was an incident and Maku’s arm hair melted.

Again, I am not making any of this stuff up. Honest.

File this under: the most bizarre two days of 2001

Make a Haus Call