3 1/2 hours of sleep = bad.
I dj'd last night at Felix (too dark in there to keep a setlist - sorry dudes), and felt truly fortunate that I was able to witness such amazing examples of the human race - from a distance.
- The guy and girl who were obviously there with a group from work. Both were extremely drunk, and the guy was trying (very unsuccessfully, I might add) to cop a feel. It was like watching Pepe Le Pew and that girl cat from Loony Tunes. Except that this girl didn't walk under a freshly painted fence, only to get a white stripe along her back and be mistaken for a girl-skunk. Or maybe she did. I didn't ask.
- The OTHER really drunk guy who fell over. Repeatedly. And when I say "fell over", I don't mean he stumbled a little (although he did that too - a LOT). I mean that he full-on, flat-out, fell the f*ck over. Onto his back. Like, 5 times. And took some of his friends down with him more than once. He was, as I affectionately refer to those in his particular state of inebriation, "That Guy". And let me tell you, That Guy was a friggin spectacle. What amazed both myself and bartender Joe was that, most likely KNOWING how drunk That Guy was, his friends STILL brought him up a FREAKISHLY treacherous flight of steps to come to the Zipper Lounge. If you've never been there, imagine a 40-foot ladder (same width, same general angle if leaned against a perpindicular-to-the-ground, planar surface), then visualize carpet on that ladder, and you have the steps up to the Zipper Lounge. CRIMINY. I do have to say, I learned one very valuable lesson from That Guy (take notes, kids). If you wanna clear a room, all you have to do is act like you're gonna puke all over it. Well done, my friend - Joe and I thank you for robbing us of any and all income, jackass!
I think that was everything of note. Oh, no it isn't. I broke my headphones last night. In half. Now I have a monophone. Damn it.
Time to inject some OJ into my veins and pray that it kicks in sometime this century...