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mordicai caeli

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April 3rd, 2004

hallelujah & pass the ammunition. [Apr. 3rd, 2004|02:52 pm]
mordicai caeli
[Current Mood |burn on palantir!]
[Current Music |crown me king- i choose wire mother]

when we get to the party, peter is already drunk. so it looks like i'm in the clear- with such a precedent, if i get loaded it'll just be par for the course. by course i mean closely trimed neo-victorian gardens, green & flourishing. i'm feeling fucking invincible with my girl at my side. my girl is like a gun, she's such a little pistol. david's appetizers are a fish-cream composite thing & a salad. i have a little of both. peter is pouring everybody shots of tequila. i guess i'll throw down the roster?

david- host of the party & my boss.
whitney- his girlfriend. she does publishing promotion or something.
christine- his (half) sister. more on her later.
christine's boyfriend- we talk about guns. he's an admirer of the m16a2.
vlad- janell's boy. he's puerto rican, despite being fucking named vlad.
joseph- david's (half) brother. that takes care of the civilains.

christopher- the alien hybrid barbadian. he's 6'7".
peter- he's drunk already.
novictoria- the half-dervish destructogremlin.
evilragdoll- peacock devil & fear of getting molester.
david two- he's got a beard & likes cheese sandwiches.

the food is ridiculously good. macaroni & cheese, sure, but its cooked in guiness & heavy cream. there is fucking pheasent for fuck's sake- i feel the whole time like turning to somebody & being all "i say my lord norfolk. fox hunting later this week?" or some shit. it reminds me of when i was the oh so proud huntsman. some fish & mussel dish to kill for. everything is cooked in liquor. i could go on & on. its a fucking spread; i want david to cater my enemies funerals.

eventually there is whiskey.

at some point i'm like "so, david's your half-brother?" which is when christine fucking loses it. for the next three hours she's screaming at the air that david's her fucking brother. there is alot of prodding by christopher. lots of hugs. joseph keeps telling her to shut the fuck up. its adorable & with another drunk? man thats all the encouragement i need. people keep going outside to throw up. peter locks himself in the bathroom. everything is five by five (5 x 5) for me. god fucking damn it look at my girlfriend sitting in that chair. she sits in a chair better than anybody i've ever met.

then more drinking. i pour jenny mead. things start bluring together, or i'm getting bleary eyed. peter is passed out in a chair, christine is passed out in david's bedroom. i keep saying its the best party ever. now i'm drunk. i enthuse about neil stephenson & jeff noon. i pour myself another drink. i pour myself another drink. pouring myself drinks is just about the best think i can think of to do with myself, outside of violence. eventually we reel out of the place, me & jenny & christopher. "enough foreplay. i'm ready to be home." i say, even as the train pulls into the station.

in the morning, i leap to my feet to get jenny's package from the post office.

its candy.
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