jordan@UCBARPA.BERKELEY.EDU (Jordan Hayes) (09/23/86)
so, I'm sitting there with a drink in my hand, and this blonde babe walks up and asks me if i know anything about existentialism. i sorta nod and begin to think about the answer i'll give, when suddenly she begins to foam at the mouth and scream and yell with the force of a hurricane. my skin is rippled back as her frontal assault begins about all the terrible food in the world and how it's always the rich who eat the extra fat on roast beef and all these really crazy things. "wow," says i, reaching for the peanuts and munching a few down. my head begins to whirl now as i notice that she must have slipped a mickey into my drink sometime between the philosophy and the tirade. things are unfocussed now and she is laughing at me as hard as she can in a sinister rush. i can no longer see the floor or my hands and i believe them not to be present. her face turns into a wearwolf and she tears into my eyes, blood streaming down her long pale arms. i struggle to gain my freedom, but to no avail. all goes dark. later, my friend jon says, on the way out, "wow, they played 41 songs in just over 70 minutes" "Oh," says i. "the last time i saw the ramones they played a lot longer." /jordan