Rave: On.

I went to a rave last night. Prom style, in a limo. The only difference is we had a gallon of grey goose, two bottles of champagne, a 5th of Jager and enough beer to take down a rhinosaurus. It was apparently a “massive” which actually just turned out to be a massive fail because there was hardly anyone there.

So due to lack of good music, people, and drugs I instead took it upon myself to get shitty drunk and fuck with as many people as possible which included but was no limited to… running up to people, and saying “THIS IS AMAZING! ARE YOU HAVING FUN!??!” Then before they had a chance to answer running off to find my next victim, or grabbing random high kids by the shoulders, then jumping wildly around while asking if they were on drugs and exclaiming that I was “rolling balls” as well. And my favourite: flailing wildly until some idiot thought it was cool enough to start mimicking because it had just become ‘the best dance move ever.’ You have to entertain yourself somehow if the party is a total flop. Truth be told, I really had no interest in attending any of this other than to accompany friends and the possibility (which turned out to be ‘fuckton’) of free booze.

At one point there was a head on collision between my friend and myself through a curtain divider. I do not remember this, but instead have a rather larger bruise on my knee that proves that I met the ground at one point (if not multiple) during the night. As well as somehow obtaining and Artist and VIP pass and making a backstage attempt for the sheer fact that we could. We actually couldn’t because we apparently were sans “proper credentials”… since when the fuck did you need credentials for a rave? We (the A team) also both puked at some point in the night. Him by the side of road next to a taxi, and I chose the classy route… the bathroom of the Hilton. Better than the morning after, I say. Rough.

Around 5am I had an insatiable urge for grilled cheese and consquently would no shut the fuck up until I got some. I did, and it was good, or it was awful and I was too drunk to care. The rest of the company we arrived with completely pussied out, and left early due to lovers quarrels. Yet another reason dating is fucking gay. Rave: off.