We transitioned from the dismally dismal year of 2001 to the hopefully hopeful year of 2002 with a bit of a bang. The following is a documentation of our attempts to commit as many acts of hedonism as possible right from the start.

NOTE: The actual timeline of events may vary.

 

 

The night started off on the usual foot... Erin threatening to disembowel me. I couldn't help but laugh as I felt the cold steel slice my belly open...

 

After I refused to die (despite my internal organs dripping all over the place), she ran to seek solace in the arms of another Spooge.

 

Brian entertained himself for the plethora of hours by attempting to unleash his pent-up frustrations on a flat little disc. "Die, you damnable air-hockey puck, DIE!"

 

Of course, Chris came along to attempt to tempt Brian to our side of the sobriety line. But Brian would have none of it. "I'm a good boy," he said, "plus, I do stupid things whilst intoxicated."

 

"Fine," sez the Spooge Demon. "You're just not good enough for me, then." With a thrusting of his mighty, gangly arm, Spooge forced Brian out of the picture... almost.

 

With that, he brought the plastic cup of toxicity to his lips. "Must... ingest.... green shit!" he drools. And with that, he tilted the cheap plastic cup back, and began to drink... (thanks, Gary Larsen!)

 

The three stalwart champions of being-outside-in-the-coldness, holding their brave gathering against the wisdom of coming indoors, where it's warm.

 

Ultimately getting bored with freezing his ass off, Peter comes inside and attempts to warm his patootie. The girl, one of Kia's friends, was around all night, but, sadly, I forgot her name. Sue me.

 

Two champions of the Nerdly Arts battle it out in a supreme duel to the finish. The bet for their game was that the loser had to drink twenty gallons of toxic waste.

 

When all was said and done (and Chris had drank his twenty gallons of toxic waste), Erin wanted a piece of the action. And, boy, did she get walloped. Over, and over, and over, and over...

 

Afterwards, Ol' Spoogie and Mr. Josh reconvene upstairs to visit their good buddy, Jim Morrison. Chris doesn't look that well... must've been the toxic waste.
Why do I look so happy? Why, because that was the first time in two weeks I had any human contact! Of course, you must really stretch the word "human" to allow Chris to qualify as one...
The Next Morning...

 

 

We all awakened to find ourselves intertwined in a massive smattering of squirming flesh. Well, not me... I was banished into the far corner.

 

Chris is cranky in the morning.

 

Eventually, we gave Chris the Fuzzy Hat Of Subdual, and he calmed right down. Although his libido kicked in at its maximum setting...

 

Erin had a hard time waking up. She fell (asleep) on Kia, and our dear kitten hadn't the resolve to force her up.

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Copyright 2002 JMSPOOFE. All rights reserved.