dfors after a long night of traipsing through Golden Gate Park yanking signposts out of the ground and mischeviously teaming up to tilt the tennis judge's perch using physics and two small pieces of lumber.Went to Sin! as planned, had, well, an alright time.
dfors was offput by the $10 entry, so he never made it inside, but I harangued him in to meeting up with me at 7th and Market afterwards, and we listened to music and drove up to Twin Peaks. It was cold. So we left. He's totally fun to hang with. Smart people with a sense of adventure and drunktivity are too few and far-between. We walked a long motherfucking way to find breakfast, while I was still completely dressed up in my full-on fetishy club gear, we were so obviously Still Up rather than Just Getting Up but the streets were empty and sunrise was golden all Maxfield Parrish over Twin Peaks as the purple fog burned away and I ate my omelette. I chased a pigeon and as he stood still, a single feather spiralled down in to his hand and he handed it to me, and I declared that it was Very Poetic.
None of this makes sense. Staying up all night is really refreshing and confusing.
