31 OCTOBER 2009

Chef: “It’s a Gods and Godesses party. Huntington. Plan accordingly.”

Ahh Huntington. I hopped into the car with P Tyme and Chef and we started driving from LA. I knew Ares, but I didn’t know his margaritas. Yet. We planned to show up at about 5pm and got there about 6:30pm. Pretty good for us. FashionablyAlwaysFuckingLateAsShit. Beer pong at a house a few blocks from the beach. Good start. 7 or 8 games of pong and we all have a light buzz going. I should explain something about our crew at this point: generally groups of people end up with different levels of drunkenness. One friend is a little more sober, able to kind of watch out for the mayhem the others are headed for. Not so with us. Everyone is sober or everyone is tanked. It is like group Unthink.

The plan was to pregame at Ares place and roll out to ZimmyZ. Attire is as follows:

Ares is Ares, Greek god of Warfare.

Chef is Dionysus, Greek god of Wine.

I am Ra, Egyptian god of the Sun.

P Tyme is Death. So pretty.

There was also a female with us. Her name is FoSho. And she went as Audrey Hepburn. Because she didn’t get the theme of the party. And she wanted a cigarette holder to repeatedly whack us with. Damnit.

After the glorious glow-in-the-dark-can’t-hit-cups-to-save-our-lives games of pong, Ares decided to make margaritas. Which he mixed with approximately 9 parts FUCKquila to one part margarita mix. And they tasted amazing. Don’t ask me how.  A few sizable cups of these and we were feeling even better. It was time to roll out. At this point two things happened. Dionysus found a large empty wine bottle and proceeded to fill it with margarita. I chugged the rest of the margarita from the blender.

We started walking towards ZimmyZ. There were Halloween revelers everywhere, and we were already yelling random words at them. Dionysus thought he was clever for drinking margarita out of a wine bottle. Problem was, it just looked like wine. Which was in fact still illegal.

FoSho would not stop hitting people with her cigarette holder. It got thrown. It was probably next to Dionysus wine bottle. Which was somehow lost too. I did something with it. Hopefully I didn’t throw that too?

The five of us blaze in the door at ZimmyZ. Naughty nurses here, whatever-your-excuse-is-to-wear-that there, amazing atmosphere, good music, great food, greek beer, greek sex shots, this was going to be great! We went to sit down at the table. Dionysus completely missed his chair and fell on his ass. The waitress asked if he was ok.

Death: “He’s in character don’t worry about it!”

Waittress: “Huh?”

Ares: “SHOTS!”

The first round of shots was something reddish, probably girly. We left it up to the waitress to surprise us. They went down easy. We hit the bar and got more drinks, at which point a naughty nurse decided to write us prescriptions. She folded one up and put it in my shirt. I threw it away. Later she would write her number on one for Death. He threw it away.

A few more drinks, some amazing food, a few more drinks, some loudness, a few more drinks, everyone trying to get the waitress drunk and/or to party with us, a few more drinks. And maybe more drinks.

All of us are SHIT HOUSED. And by that I mean Death was trying to go to the outside balcony because he saw some targets of interest there, but there was a sliding glass door in the way, which was WAY too difficult because he could see his goal but couldn’t figure out how to open the door. So he stared, and mimed things at the girls outside. It might have worked if he persisted.

Dionysus lived up to his name. That is until he passed out on the bathroom floor. That only lasted a few minutes (no idea how long–we were hammered.)

I had the spins so bad I was sitting at the bar with my head in my hands.

Random girls: “What’s wrong with the sun god?”

Ares:  “Obviously the Sun is down. Don’t worry. Hey RA!”

Ra: <looks up> “Yeaaaah! Cheers!” <Head back in hands>

At this point we all decided to leave, so Ares, FoSho, Death and I start shambling towards the door. Someone pointed out that Dionysus is missing. Ares, Death and I all pointed out that there are really only three places he could have gone: 1) Off somewhere with a chica. Didn’t need our help. 2) Home to pass out. Very likely, and hey–didn’t need our help. 3) Prison. Nothing we could do about it, when the rest of us were too drunk to know our own names.

But FoSho, using her impeccable logic, decided that he must in fact be in ZimmyZ. And insisted that we look for him. Now imagine a search party, all of whom are so hammered that they don’t know their asses from their elbows. They can’t see two feet in front of them. Add to this the fact that they were distracted by anything wearing skimpy clothing (Halloween here) and you get the basic idea. Death and I remembered that he passed out on the bathroom floor at one point, so we deduced that he must be back there.  We went to the door.  It was locked. SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM. Drunken strength and loud noises.  Terrified little old man opens the door.

Ra and Death: “OHshitFUCKsorryWEthoughtOurFRIENDwasInThereWHOOPS WHoa HEY MANWOOHOOO!”

There was an exclusive party next to ZimmyZ. None of us remember it clearly, but individually all of us snuck into it. And by that I mean blatantly hopped over the ropes and drunked around. BUFFET TABLE!!!???

Death was talking to a few girls, but can’t actually form words. They seemed genuinely interested in what he has to say, but he’s just making noises and hitting them with amazing facial expressions. Worked surprisingly well.

I was talking to two girls. Asking them if they have seen Dionysus. Nobody seems to understand that Dionysus was real, and that this was not a pickup line. I was attempting to explain this, when Ares tackled me.

Two girls: “Hey you can’t just do that! Come on!? What the hell we were talking!?


Girls: “What the hell?”

Ares and I broke into a fit of hysterics, thoroughly convincing the girls that they were the subject of a cruel joke and were now being laughed at. This was the best possible outcome. They were offended. This was glorious.

Some three hours later, the search party decided that Dionysus must be at another bar. That or they wanted to go to another bar.

On to Ra sushi. Because I, Ra, must go there. Obviously. The details are hazy and incriminating but we were talking to cop’s wives. Seriously. Self preservation and basic common sense have gone completely out the window at this point.

On to RandomBrahBar. Ares asked the bar if Dionysus was there, and they say yeah he’s on the way back. Ares was excited and bought the entire bar shots. Dionysus showed up. Wrong. Fucking. Dionysus. Couldn’t really take the shots back, although he probably thought about it. The wrong Dionysus was confused as to why we were all so mad as fuck at him. YOU AREN’T THE REAL DIONYSUS! Fuckass.

Walking back towards Ares’ place. Death spots two girls and tells me that I should go talk to them. I obliged. Big chicken man came out of nowhere and was upset. Not upset enough to do anything about it. Because he was a chicken. Clearly.

Ares and Death are yelling at everyone that walked by. We finally got back to Ares’ place and there was Dionysus, covered in a sheet on the doorstep. We woke him up. He asked how he got outside, because he had dreamt that we came back and let him in. Confusion abounded.

The next morning over breakfast, FoSho casually decided to inform us that she saw Dionysus leave ZimmyZ last night. Meaning our search party was quite clearly unnecessary. Really.



Of course that is just my take. It’s a first cut. Maybe Chef, Ares, and P-Tyme can illuminate the rest of the night with their versions.