Xehupatl
06-02-2003, 07:53 AM
I just needed to post this, maily because I haven\'t got anything to do right now and I\'m bored, maybe because I need some sort of creative outlet (other than masturbating).
FEAR MY DEADLY MS-PAINT SKILLS!!! PLEASE!?
FOREPLAY
Last ... Friday or Thursday or something, I went to a very good friend\'s house with a couple of mates, for a BBQ party.
(Hooray!). There were about 7 of us, an electric BBQ (anyone who doesn\'t use charcoal isn\'t in their right minds, but I went along), lots of marinated meat (pork, lamb, anything!), a lot of booze, some nice homegrown stuff, and an empty house in the countryside.
We were having a teriffic time, and I definitely got hammered and wasted.
Maybe I had one too many White Russians, or maybe the fact that I had been smoking all evening, or maybe it was the amount of seared flesh I had ingested?
Well, I got too wasted, too soon (nothing wrong with that in my book!).
So I went upstairs and lay down in front of the TV and watched \"Four Rooms\" and \"Cobra-11 Die Autobahn Polizei\" simultaneously using my \'maddoc\' chanel-hopping-skills.
After a while, Four Rooms just got too freaky and weird for me, and I settled with watching \"Cobra-11\", possibly the worst TV show to ever grace an Austrian TV-screen (well, what do you expect from Germany?).
I watched as some freaked-out Autobahn freak with a freaky scarred face and a freaky mask covering these freaky scars freakily killed many an innocent driver with pretty freaky moves that really freaked me out.
But that\'s beside the point - I was waaaay to wasted to care. I frequently checked if I wasn\'t hallucinating or dreaming all of this, but I forgot what I was doing, thanks to my previous, successful efforts at horribly mutilating my short-term memory.
THE ARM-SHOULDER ADVENTURE!
So there I was crashed in front of the TV, totally wasted and drunk.
When I noticed the subtle hints my body gave me, that I would feel a lot better if I went to the toilet and soil the bowl with some fresh, meaty stomach-juice (i.e. barf, vomit, etc.).
I heroically staggered, nay dragged myself to the toilet, whereupon I kneeled down in front of the bowl in a religious gesture to sacrifice to the party-gods. (see diagram 1 - rear view)
Diagram 1
http://www.xehupatl.com/images/misc/adventure1.jpg
Anyways, I needed my left arm for support, so I planted it firmly on the wall facing me. The wall was pretty far away so I had to fully extend my arm (maybe I was just able to touch it with my fingertips [I don\'t remember]).
The other arm was busy trying to reach the back of my throat in a desperate effort to relieve myself of the meaty goodness that had accumulated in my stomach, and that had been agitated by my hippie-lovin\'-consumption of .. ahem ... stuff. (see diagram-2)
http://www.xehupatl.com/images/misc/adventure2.jpg
As I was about to relieve myself in the reverse way I had endulged myself so freely some hours ago, I bent down slightly to not miss the bowl. Unfortunately, my extended left arm didn\'t move with the rest of my body, when: (diagram-3)
http://www.xehupatl.com/images/misc/adventure3.jpg
OUCH! The feeling was, I imagine, much like having your testicles ripped out by some sort of evil goblin with sharp claws, except the pain was in my arm, not my crotch, and I was doing it to myself, rather than some greenish midget.
I had dislocated my shoulder before twice or so, and it always pops back in after a few seconds, during which you feel like \"something is NOT right with my body\" - a lot like holding your own entrails in your hands and going \"hmm ... that\'s not where they\'re supposed to be!\".
Well after these few seconds my shoulder-joint accepted back my left arm like that father from the bible who welcomes his lost son back. (diagram-4)
http://www.xehupatl.com/images/misc/adventure4.jpg
I sobered up enough to NOT want to barf again (I hadn\'t - too distracted by pain), I stood up and went back to the couch, where I fell deeply asleep.
I woke up 6 hours later and had to drive a few friends to a nearby town, before driving home myself. Funny thing - both army hurt while driving. But like a good soldier I toughed it out and managed not to get into a traffic accident.
Long story short: I didn\'t help clearing up the mess accumulated from the party the night before.
My question is this: Am I a bad friend for not helping to clean up?
/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/laugh.gif
FEAR MY DEADLY MS-PAINT SKILLS!!! PLEASE!?
FOREPLAY
Last ... Friday or Thursday or something, I went to a very good friend\'s house with a couple of mates, for a BBQ party.
(Hooray!). There were about 7 of us, an electric BBQ (anyone who doesn\'t use charcoal isn\'t in their right minds, but I went along), lots of marinated meat (pork, lamb, anything!), a lot of booze, some nice homegrown stuff, and an empty house in the countryside.
We were having a teriffic time, and I definitely got hammered and wasted.
Maybe I had one too many White Russians, or maybe the fact that I had been smoking all evening, or maybe it was the amount of seared flesh I had ingested?
Well, I got too wasted, too soon (nothing wrong with that in my book!).
So I went upstairs and lay down in front of the TV and watched \"Four Rooms\" and \"Cobra-11 Die Autobahn Polizei\" simultaneously using my \'maddoc\' chanel-hopping-skills.
After a while, Four Rooms just got too freaky and weird for me, and I settled with watching \"Cobra-11\", possibly the worst TV show to ever grace an Austrian TV-screen (well, what do you expect from Germany?).
I watched as some freaked-out Autobahn freak with a freaky scarred face and a freaky mask covering these freaky scars freakily killed many an innocent driver with pretty freaky moves that really freaked me out.
But that\'s beside the point - I was waaaay to wasted to care. I frequently checked if I wasn\'t hallucinating or dreaming all of this, but I forgot what I was doing, thanks to my previous, successful efforts at horribly mutilating my short-term memory.
THE ARM-SHOULDER ADVENTURE!
So there I was crashed in front of the TV, totally wasted and drunk.
When I noticed the subtle hints my body gave me, that I would feel a lot better if I went to the toilet and soil the bowl with some fresh, meaty stomach-juice (i.e. barf, vomit, etc.).
I heroically staggered, nay dragged myself to the toilet, whereupon I kneeled down in front of the bowl in a religious gesture to sacrifice to the party-gods. (see diagram 1 - rear view)
Diagram 1
http://www.xehupatl.com/images/misc/adventure1.jpg
Anyways, I needed my left arm for support, so I planted it firmly on the wall facing me. The wall was pretty far away so I had to fully extend my arm (maybe I was just able to touch it with my fingertips [I don\'t remember]).
The other arm was busy trying to reach the back of my throat in a desperate effort to relieve myself of the meaty goodness that had accumulated in my stomach, and that had been agitated by my hippie-lovin\'-consumption of .. ahem ... stuff. (see diagram-2)
http://www.xehupatl.com/images/misc/adventure2.jpg
As I was about to relieve myself in the reverse way I had endulged myself so freely some hours ago, I bent down slightly to not miss the bowl. Unfortunately, my extended left arm didn\'t move with the rest of my body, when: (diagram-3)
http://www.xehupatl.com/images/misc/adventure3.jpg
OUCH! The feeling was, I imagine, much like having your testicles ripped out by some sort of evil goblin with sharp claws, except the pain was in my arm, not my crotch, and I was doing it to myself, rather than some greenish midget.
I had dislocated my shoulder before twice or so, and it always pops back in after a few seconds, during which you feel like \"something is NOT right with my body\" - a lot like holding your own entrails in your hands and going \"hmm ... that\'s not where they\'re supposed to be!\".
Well after these few seconds my shoulder-joint accepted back my left arm like that father from the bible who welcomes his lost son back. (diagram-4)
http://www.xehupatl.com/images/misc/adventure4.jpg
I sobered up enough to NOT want to barf again (I hadn\'t - too distracted by pain), I stood up and went back to the couch, where I fell deeply asleep.
I woke up 6 hours later and had to drive a few friends to a nearby town, before driving home myself. Funny thing - both army hurt while driving. But like a good soldier I toughed it out and managed not to get into a traffic accident.
Long story short: I didn\'t help clearing up the mess accumulated from the party the night before.
My question is this: Am I a bad friend for not helping to clean up?
/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/laugh.gif