WTF Weekend: That Was So Last Halloween and Buttonwillow Santa Barbara
The biosuits I was picking up for our costumes were used. Kinda scary. On one hand, I highly doubt they would sell anything that is still contaminated, but the thought that this suit was once possibly exposed to killer chemicals and infectious diseases did cross my mind. If I grow an extra pair of testicles, I’ll let you know. Hell, I’ll put it on Youtube.
We were the Anti-Swine Flu Team, complete with biosuits, goggles and vials of Swine Flu Vaccine aka 100 proof vodka with syringes to apply the “shots.” It was totally a hit – when we weren’t “OMG GHOSTBUSTERS” or “LOLBEASTIEBOYS.”
Emosweater and I decided to hit up Vegas on Sunday for a turnaround and catch up with the others. When we hit state line we grabbed a sixer and downed three beers a piece before we hit the strip so by the time we got to the hotel room we were nice and saucy. Kids don’t try this at home, or anywhere else for that matter.
Lavo was cool, despite the fact that I spent most of my time outside when I finally did go in and join the group groove, I had a blast, up until Fez showed up. Now I don’t know if he was spinning or just hanging out with the DJ but he kept getting on the mic every fuckin 20 seconds to say something. Dude, stop interrupting the song, just let the music play, you’re fuckin annoying. Guess he wasn’t doing much acting on that 70’s show after all.
We hit up Drais afterward, greased the cigar girl a few bucks for free passes for the ladies, got a gander at Optimus Prime and that giant fuzzy Cheshire Cat Looking guy from Where the Wild Things Are in a costume brawl when Michael Jackson showed up and kicked their asses. Then it was a parade of gay men and dancing moonrakers, when Emosweater and I decided it was time to go home or die driving there in a losing battle to slumber.
This passed weekend Emosweater and I decided it would be fun to catch up with Sketch after his Santa Barbara Half Marathon. It’s got that coastal town feeling to it, like San Deigo, which is something we should have kept in mind when we stopped at Buttonwillow to eat at Carl’s and realized we were way off course. Two and a half hours to be exact. 5 North, straight shot, I didn’t question it. In my mind it sounded right, but we probably would have ended up a few miles outside of San Jose before we realized if we didn’t stop to eat. Without sounding too existential it really was more about the journey and getting outside of LA city limits for a change of pace, which we succeeded in doing, but the downside to it was, well, Santa Barbara just felt like Orange County or San Diego. Granted we were probably setting ourselves up for the local easy stop or the tourist trap setting on Main Street – I mean that would be like us directing folks to Old Town Pasadena or 3rd Street Promenade. These are the places you hang out at when you’re not 21, from out of town or just point all the non-cool people to when you need to send them to some generic place to do stuff.
The highlight of the evening, or the downfall depending on who you talk to, was when Emosweater was totally violated by some drunk guy, so much that I totally panicked for a few seconds. My instinct was to grab his hand and drag him out of there or step in between the two to break up space, but it was Emosweater and not some girl and it was a guy that was hitting on him and it was – it was so strange. Either I was frightened by it, or caught in some eerie fascination of what was unfolding. Then at Madison’s, some chola threw some shit at the bartender right next to us and things almost went gansta. I guess the excitement really fired up this random drunk guy, who went on a freak-everyone-at-the-bar-air-humping-spree. Of course Emosweater was the first to be accosted. It was so his night.
The drive home initially was rough, we went through three or four cycles of getting drunk and sobering up that day – with drinking starting at 4 pm, which is really taxing on the body we discovered, but after a few shakes of Monster and doing the ABC’s of name that boob, we made it home.
My favorite: Dirigibles and chesticles. How I never heard of chesticles I’ll never understand. Pure genius.
Tags: half marathons, Halloween, Holiday, Santa Barbara, WTF Weekend