Wednesday, November 05, 2003

The Month of October

II. Homecoming
III. Movies
IV. Halloween
V. The Night at the Mall

It was October tenth. It was the day I'd been waiting for for months and months. It was the day KILL BILL premiered, and shit, I was a happy motherfucker. The whole week leading up to the day was Homecoming spirit week for my school, so naturally it was day after day after fucking day of obnoxious jerkovs, painted faces, dressing up, hype among students, and waiting for the week to end. When Friday afternoon had arrived, and I made it through the Homecoming pep rally, thinking of KILL BILL was like a junkie catching the scent of some good hash-- unbearable. I went home, watched Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs, and then my dad came and picked Ryan and myself up from my house.

The whole car ride to the theater was filled with trading stories about Mr. Tarantino and his movies. My dad was excited to see the movie, but Ryan and I were on a whole different level because it's not everyday you get to see the premier of a Tarantino movie. We soon arrived at the theater, walked in, grabbed a soda, and grabbed some seats. KILL BILL was almost upon us.

As it started with the beautiful b/w shot of Uma, the gunshot, the credits, and the Nancy Sinatra number, I could do nothing but sit there and let the chills rise on my skin. I was engulfed from beginning to end, and when it ended, I had to pry myself from the chair and wish that it wasn't over because it was a profound experience I'll never forget. It will remain the greatest time I've ever had in a movie theater. It was beautiful, Quentin, thanks.

II. Homecoming
October eleventh was Duchesne's Homecoming dance, and I had no idea whether to go or not. I was left with the house to myself all day, and a wonderful time I had listening to the Who, the Doors, Van Morrison, and many other of my favorite artists. I contemplated what to do come nightfall. My choices were: a. Stay home/ b. Go to the dance and impress everyone there with my wit and charm/ c. vomit and fall asleep on the couch. After making a few calls to friends and connections, the decision was made; I was to go to Matthew Faulkner's house along with Ryan and enjoy dinner, and then off to the dance we would be.

After purchasing some cheap new shades, waxing my pubic area, freshening up, putting my fly threads on, and fixing myself a nice little refreshment, Ryan arrived at my door looking as happenin' as ever, and I hopped into his car and off to Matt's we were. Upon arriving at Matt's and paying the cab fee to Ryan's father, Ryan and I went inside and were greeted by the glorious, boisterous atmosphere of the house. Matt was still getting ready, so Ryan and I played some music while waiting, but soon Matt was done jerking off, and we left for Steak n' Shake.

At Steak n' Shake, we were seated quickly, our food was good, and we were treated nicely as always. We even got a waitress that would probably suck all of us off after the meal, Jesus Christ was she flirty. We had no time for those gimmicks though, and we were out the door as quickly as we came in. In no time at all Matt's mom pulled up gallantly in her Infinite, and we hopped in not knowing what to expect of the night ahead.

Arriving at the dance, I regretted forcing myself to take part in this gig, but I proceeded with Matt and Ryan at my sides. Inside I saw many of my friends like Scott Musler who wore a sharp pinstripe suit, Pat Grosch looking great as always with a shirt, tie, 'fro, and black Converse All Stars. As I entered the auditorium, everyone greeted me with wonder and delight. Soon it was time for the crowning ceremonies, which are boring as shit, but fun to make fun of. All listened as young women were escorted by proud young men, while the masters of ceremonies gave information about them through the microphone like, "Brandon likes to hang out with his friends, comb his hair back, watch PBS, and flirt with girls..." They'd say this exact same shit for every person and give their address out for stalkers, and I'm just sitting there wondering, who gives two shits about this (except maybe the stalkers). But, the lights soon flicked on, and some faggot dance music kicked on, so I knew it was time to get out of there and grab a drink.

The night was filled with laughs, ecstasy, dancing, watching girls dance like pygmy children, and laughing at Andrew make fucked up faces. The fun could not last forever though, fortunately, and so afterwards Matt and I joined Scott Kunza to take part in mischief and driving around. The night was all and all pretty good, and by the end, I was as tired as tired can be. I fell asleep on Matt's floor and spent the night there, only to wake up to his dad stomping around like a crack addict at 8 in the A.M. like always.

III. Movies
Over the course of October, I viewed many a motion picture, and for any reason you might want to know all of them, here they are:
Kill Bill
Lost in Translation
Last of the Mohicans
The Royal Tenenbaums
The Hunted
About Schmidt
The 39 Steps
1 Hour Photo
The Lady Vanishes
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
High Plains Drifter
The Big Lebowski
On The Waterfront
Boys From Brazil
Cool Hand Luke
Reservoir Dogs
Jackie Brown
Pulp Fiction
The Thomas Crown Affair
Cape Fear
L. A. Confidential

IV. Halloween
I had a grand time this past October 31st. I spent the first portion of the night at home, relaxing and enjoying my mam's exquisite chili-mac. I threw some candy at some children and watched some old horror movies, but it was boring. So, I called ol' Scott, and he and I decided to join the party at Rachel Geringer's house. We agreed we both must dress up, so I put on an orange t-shirts, a cheap navy blue sport coat, my aviator shades, a navy neck tie, and a pair of jeans. Scott arrived shortly after our talk on the phone sporting his pinstripe jacket, black Dickies shorts, a black derby cap, straightened hair (complements of his sister, Mary Beth), and his face painted bright whited with black around the lips and eye sockets (also complements of Mary Beth). He looked orgasmic and I felt orgasmic, so we made way to Rachel's house to see what mayhem there was to cause.

We arrived to see a litter of fine folk... and blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda, fuck who cares, and the night went fine. I did some trick or treating, but collected no candy and the night dragged on and on. The party wasn't satisfying me anymore, so Scott Kunza, Greg, and I drove over to Matt's house to have some fun with him and his brother.

At Matt's, we had a jolly fuckin time, making fun of Jamie Lee Curtis' hermaphrodisity, the Halloween movies, Return of the Dragon, Steve Buscemi, and Korean people... It was a bitchin' time. All nights must come to an end though, and so ours did, and again I woke up to Matt's dad yelling obscenities and frying eggs, what a great family. We all had ourselves a hardy breakfast, and then it was time to be off. It was a worthwhile night.

V. The Night At the Mall
This night was my only night spent at the mall in October. It was a pretty satisfiable trip though, I must say. I made a couple of purchases including the Criterion Collection Edition of Rushmore (one of my favorite films) and John Coltrane: Blue Train (definately one of the greatest jazz albums I've yet to encounter). The highlight of the night though was as Scott, Ryan, Matt, Dede, Mandy, and I walked through the parking lot towards Best Buy, Scott decided to run over the top of a brand spankin' new Acura sedan. Scott takes off and with his supreme athletic skill, he conquered the automobile. Each step seemed to echo throughout the lot calling, "HEY EVERYONE! THIS FUCKIN KID IS ON TOP OF A CAR!" We all laughed after the stunt was completed and congratulated Scott. A man from behind then yelled, "Hey! Buddy, c'mere!" We all took off towards Best Buy, all except the D because she's more mature than we are, but running is a rush. She talked it over and nothing happened, but it was all worth it. In the end I guess she looked cooler than us though because she handled it like one sly motherfucker, you slick D.

What I learned on this night: Ryan runs like a crippled mountain goat. Cheers to you Ryan.

The End

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?