![]() |
Issue #21/102, Oct 26 - Nov 9, 2000 |
|||||||||||||||||
|
Phi Delt 4 LifeThis week, I was planning a little covert action. You know, Phi Delt undercover shit. None of this announcing that I am the great Higgins and demanding service shit. No fucking way. This was covert, I wanted to experience what the common folk feel. Not like I’m embarrassed about the Phi Delts, man. Don’t even think about it. Naw, its just that I don’t want it all to go to my head. Gotta keep down to earth, see things the way most of my pledge brothers do. Be one of the crowd. So, I decided on doing the frosh thing and checking out some cheap dives in town. I mean, fuck, these face control fucks wouldn’t let me in without my eXile ID anyway. So why not check out some places where beer only costs a buck and there is no DJ playing some crappy techno. Or so I thought. So I go to this Project O.G.I. bar, where I heard the beer is about as cheap as it gets if you are not out drinking at a kiosk. It’s a good fucking thing that I don’t remember a fucking thing about that night, because it turns out that faggot ass VJ wrote about it a couple weeks ago. The towelhead sat his ass on a plane to pussy Pakistan and he’s still fucking with my shit. Fucking terrorist. The next day, in spite of all my attempts to find some cheap clubs, all I could turn up was some place called Polnaya Luna. Full Moon, I mean, I was expecting all this bullshit pagan shit when I got there. I was starting to think that it was going to be an empty column this week. Pakistanis and pagans. What the fuck is going on, you know? Still, it turns out this Luna place isn’t half bad. I mean, it fucking sucks, but not as bad as I thought. Or maybe I just mean it was cheap. I mean, you pay a 30R cover, and then beer and vodka only costs 20R. It was so fucking cheap that the beer comes in plastic cups. They haven’t stooped to plastic shot glasses yet, but after I broke three that night, I’m sure they’re thinking about it. Actually, that was the only good thing about it. I mean, the cheap drinks. What a fucking weird place. The only reason anyone fucking goes there is because it’s cheap. Everyone seemed to know the okhrannik, so they got in without even paying cover. It’s full of high schoolers trying to monkey hippies. But really all they do right is fucking smell. None of them would even smoke me up. Fucking universal love my ass. But these moonie hippies weren’t even the shitty part about this place. The thing that really sucked balls is that they have live music. I usually like dives with live music, but this shit was worse than then when my brothers would open for some local band at the annual luau. Man, you should have seen those parties. We would import a few tons of sand every year, stock up on margarita mix and have a luau in the middle of January. Sorority sluts loved it, shit, they didn’t even have to pass out to get to want to fuck you. But the music sucked. My point is that this full fucking moon band was even worse. I would rather listen to VJ chant some fucking Pakistani terrorist tunes than listen to whatever the fuck group was playing. And I fucking hate VJ. But what the fuck. There was a room in back where the music wasn’t too loud. And I wasn’t the only one who puked in the bathroom. Then, after the band stopped, they started playing some weird mix of 50s tunes and the Doors. I went to the big hall to see if there was any meat, but it was just the fucking moonies swaying every time the Doors came on. And there were these giant portraits of the Beatles. And, the big room closed by midnight. I could have kept drinking at the bar, but I had already met some Nastya (fucking awesome name) and had enough of the fucking John Lennon tributes on the walls. So, I figured I would just go bang this chick. But, on the way home, we passed this place Most on Tverskaya. I didn’t really know shit about it, but what the fuck, right? It’s some new swank club and I knew that I would need my eXile card to get in, but I was drunk enough to forget about the whole undercover bullshit, anyway. Besides, this skanky hippy might be impressed. I don’t know why the fuck I cared about that, cuz obviously she was going to fuck me anyways, but it seemed important at the time. But these bouncers at Most, they weren’t even looking at me even with my fucking card. They should have been licking my boots, the fucks, but this fucking hippy was probably keeping me out. I told them fuck it, I wanted to get in even if I had to pay a cover. But the bastards said they wouldn’t even let me in if I paid the 1,000R cover. What the fuck? Nobody face controls me, motherfuckers. So I threw up on the sidewalk. I think I even hit some patent leather. Hell, I didn’t want to fucking go there anyway. Fucking New Russians who bought themselves supermodels. Fuck that. I’d rather fuck a Nastya who won’t hang around expecting a hand out in the morning. And that’s what I did.
|