Back!

2002-06-28 - 1:24 a.m.

Back!

And what a time I had!

I am still a tear gas virgin, but hush! I have a tale to tell....

Imagine...

You are loaded. Completely and utterly piss assed drunk. So drunk that you are not even able to see your bestfriend and/or cousin, who we'll call "Jessie" (though later in the story, we'll call him "Jamie" for no reason), who is standing three feet away from you.

You: "Jessie? Where areya, man?"

Jessie: "Right here, ya moron!"

You are so drunk that this sudden mob of friendly-but-eccentric-looking people might think you're on drugs, but no. You are simply piss-ass loaded.

The people around you are waiting for something, so you bum some cigarettes and somehow lose Jessie. This time for real, because he doesn't show up at a crucial moment in this story.

Some bright yellow fun-looking school busses pull up, and you watch as mob-members climb aboard. Not sure why, you're suddenly certain that you MUST be on this bus. You and your best friend/cousin have been sent here by the city's Native Outreach program which has paid for you even though the people who seem to be in charge of the bright yellow fun-looking busses say your name isn't on the list.

They're friendly enough to let you on anyway, and so you stumble merrily toward the back of the bus, where you trip/collapse onto a seat after asking:

You: Ish anyone shitting he'e?

Of course you meant -sitting-.

One of the bus-mob-people then comes back to explain to you that you aren't supposed to be on this bus, but you are sure that you are.

You are a young drunk from Toronto who is now on a bus filled with anti-globalisation protestors with one stop, six hours away: Ottawa.

Your name is Mike.

This is your story.

Cheers,

The Magus

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