Art Auction!!!

Listen to: "And She Was" by Talking Heads, while reading this post.

Let me start with the fireflies that formed at the edge of my vision. I was a frantic and adrenaline fueled creature of commerce. The illusion that I was moving at the speed of light was very convincing, and I felt charming even if most of my jokes fell flat with the people registering to bid on art works. Several times I began to feel as if internal alchemical changes were happening somewhere in my ribs and my viscera, and it wasn't for the betterment of my body and soul. These are thoughts we must shake off, when they pop up, we must push them down to our toes and keep taking large uninhibited pulls off of larger and less inhibited bottles of gin. So I shouldn't have been surprised when suddenly my peripheral vision was filled with the inexplicable humming of translucent/phosphorescent fireflies dancing hurriedly, frantically. And yet I was surprised, and said something like "I think I'm gonna die", and fought the urge to lock my knees and fall face forward. The thought occurred... "have I consumed any water today?" the answer was unequivocally "no".

When I say this was a good beginning to a night out you better know that I speak the truth. We had been holding an Art auction that went fantastically well. Not necessarily for me, I don't think people can appreciate my revolutionary presentation tactics. Under my new cannon, I say "Who wants frames when you can have bent edges, mold spots and cherry juice?" and I'm clearly right, society just needs to catch up. I did do okay though, selling three paintings and two comic books. for a grand total of 42$, enuff at least to make up for my industrial sized industrial strength bottle of gin. (I keep having the compulsion to capitalize the 'g' on gin; a strange sacrilege) From the end of the auction on, many things happened, but you would have had to been there to know the truth behind them so I will just list the highlights:

A mad woman pushed my friend in the face.
I got between them, QUICKLY
at a safe distance debated the gender of the individual in question
abused our privileges with phones in every conceivable way
after a short rest went back out
more gin
cut off
hip hop night
more gin
while living in a pile gave the DJ a pull off my Beefeater gin
more gin
gave the gin away
lifted up Gus put him in the ladies bathroom for some reason (because we could?)
split off
met again
tried to commit suicide with a clothes hanger, so someone else wouldn't have to.