Chronicles of Bodily Functions - Chapter 2 - "My First Brownie"

My first record industry party was quite the ordeal. Mind you I'm not in the record industry, but I had a friend that was into promotions or something of that nature. I agreed to go because nobody else wanted to go, and I soon found out why. You just stand around and/or sit around these tables in the VIP room, and some people over there are passing illicit materials under the table, and that table over there people are about to procreate. Now, now, use protection! I saw that same hoochie-mamma down at Iggy Pop's bumping and grinding on every other guy in town. Then after you've heard the most horrendous band in the world they come up to the VIP room and everyone gives them false compliments like "I can't wait until your CD's released" or "That was awesome!" or "If your CD is anything like the live act you're going to be rich!" Yeah right, they sucked hairy ass. And the whole time I'm at the open bar "Gimme 'nother, an' don be shin, I mean....chin-cheee Huh?...chincyyyy? S'what I said."

Well after the band goes into their VIP room off the VIP room, everyone in the VIP room high tails it for the door before the band comes out whacked on whatever pharmaceutical they're into this particular week. My friend was like "Man let's scram before those jerks come out on their Scooby Snacks." Seriously it was like a fire drill because all the people were rushing for the stairs and the door. I'm kinda wishing I'd stuck around to see what happens when a no name band almost has a name. They probably just break things, which is what every boring band does when they're trying to assert themselves.

Anyway, back to my bodily functions. Uhm, Ok. Where was I? Oh yeah, we left that drag of a party and went to this party in SoHo in an enormous loft. Folks, this was the most amazing loft I've ever seen, it took up the entire floor of this building, and it had a "studio" of equal size attached! In the studio were many, many Corona's. I drank half of them. The smell of delicious chocolate decadence was wafting through the party and someone shouts, "YAY! The Brownies are done!". Mmmm, brownies? I'm starving! The reason I was starving was because I hadn't eaten the entire day, and people at this place had homemade cigs *if you know what I mean* just laying around all over and MAYBE I second-handedly had inhaled the by-products. So I'm so stupid and fu*ked up that I didn't realize why everyone at the party wanted to eat these brownies. DUH....(I was very sheltered growing up).

Blah, blah, blah...I meet a bunch of people, and I barely remember them, but I do remember this chic that had long hair, long nose, long fingers, and long legs and thought, "is she Shelly Long, cuz everything is LONG on her" but evidently I didn't just think it, I'd said it out loud and this fat Buddy Holly look alike said "That may be the dumbest thing I've ever heard" and we laughed about it for 10 minutes (yeah, go figure). So after being insulted by Fatty Holly, but forgiving him because it turned out to be his apartment, I left. Suddenly I didn't remember where I was. I was in SoHo, which I'd been in a million times before, and now I was standing on Broadway lost. That's right, the "brownie" kicked in. Damn Duncan Hi(gh)nes.

I had to take a step, look around, take another step, look around so I could make some progress. I was too embarrassed and scared to ask anyone where the subway was, because well, not to dis myself but I was a mess. And so it was, that I had to pee! Great! It was like 4 AM Sunday night/Monday morning, nothing was open. I found a car lot and unburdened my self on the wall (civilized right?) Ooo look there's my subway! So I finally get the train back to Brooklyn. (I'd just moved there so I was still a little skeptical about any stops other than my own).

The train is crossing the Manhattan Bridge and the strongest Gotta-Shit-NOW-and-it's-gonna-be-liquid sensation comes over me. I'm doubling over in pain and doing LAMAS breathing exercises to keep the stopper on what I know is going to be the grossest experience of my life. I hold it for a couple stops, but I'm so frightened that my intestines are going to bust internally that I hop off the Subway at some unknown stop which looks very abandoned and the kind of place a mugging could occur. The train pulls away and I just think "well, here goes crap down my legs and in my pants, so I lean against the wall beside a trash can and let loose the loudest fart in the world. I'm not lying, it echoed! Good thing I'm alone and what a relief it wasn't drizzly doo-doo! But wait....there's laughter. I look on the other side of the trash can and there are Harry and Henrietta Homeless making out and laughing at me! Well, I'm way sick now and don't even bother telling them to get a job.

I catch the next train home and barely make it before the REAL shit comes. I called in sick and laid in bed for two days except to go potty. My boss was concerned by my sudden and violent "flu", but what was I going to say "Oh I can't come in cuz Corona's coming out my ass?" Whatever was in that brownie really confused my internal signalling systems! For Real!