Ugh, I wake up so early, and this room has blasting sun and no curtains and Blake is who knows where, so I’m writing this from whoever’s computer this is. Shhhh.
Chinatown bus took 4 hours to get to Philly.
Four.
Hours.
At one point, the bus stopped in the middle of 95 South, next to Newark Airport, and the driver got out and closed the luggage gate, which had been left open, apparently. Safety first!
At another point, the bus was on a cul-de-sac in a Cherry Hill neighborhood. We had to back up to circle the sac.
So by the time we made it down to the Mummers Museum, it was nearly 11.
But we saw the end of Hollertronix! At the Mummers Museum. We downed one Sparks each and danced for ten minutes and then we had to leave.
Oh, that’s why I can’t sleep. Sparks.
And then we went to a party on a roof where an old college-era chum of mine, Alexander Digby, was DJing. I promptly ran into that pally-pal buddy boy of mine, former fellow Simons Jewel Co. colleague, Ryan Berg. On a roof. In South Philadelphia, of all places. But it was actually sweet to see him, and he served Blake and I drinks and a little blunt right away, and then we danced….
… For 5 minutes until the cops broke up the party!
A DJ sound system on a roof in the thick of South Philadelphia row houses… I’m surprised it lasted the 5 minutes it did!
In the thick of the party scurry exodus, I happened upon none other than Joseph Whitey, who happened to be driving his aunt’s P.T. Cruiser convertible (beige with a cream top). Whitey scooped us up! I am still laughing. We had the top down, and Blake, Maria and I sat up on the back seat. Whitey was driving with Sweet Billy riding shotgun. Whitey insisted on giving us his “Fuck You Tour of Philadelphia”. So he took us up Broad Street, from Washington Ave. The tour starts at Washington and consists of Whitey screaming Fuck you! to each street we pass. “Hey Carpenter Street, fuck you!” “Hey Christian Street, fuck you!” “Hey Catherine Street, fuck you!” and so on, all the way up to City Hall. The tour concludes with “Fuck you, City Hall, fuck you!” In classic Whitey absurdist mundane entertainment, he does not miss a street or a beat, and then he capped the tour off with three or four encore finale loops down Juniper Street, back to city Hall, right on Market, right on Juniper and repeat.
We laughed all the way back to Washington Ave where Whitey dropped us off.
I wandered straight to bed and have no clue where the others went…
deux mille six 