The party was a strange affair. Hot Baby Roy was on his best behaviour and have even had a wash (not just himself, his clothes!).
I don't know much about art beyond a few chats with Betty Blue, and even then I only know some weird facts (they're the only ones that stick in my head).
My nerves got the better of me and I got fairly pished early on. Some guy sat talking to me about how he wanted his house covered in Mother of Bowling Ball just like his electric rock and roll grunge guitar. And how he doesn't like that his girlfriend likes to hang out with asshole graffiti guys down at Pilot St. I told him that graffiti was cooler than mother of bowling ball any day of the fucking week. Then I went to the toilet and boked all over the show. Nasty as fuck. I fell asleep hugging the bowl.
I woke up at about midnight with someone banging at the door telling me that they needed to pish. I told them to find a beer can. They shouted back.
"I can't, I'm a gurl."
In one of those shit American accents people over here pick up watching shite like Gilmore Girls and Party of Five.
I wondered out of the bathroom and found a sofa to sleep on. I woke up to find this guy putting make up on my face. I told him if he was still here when I came back from washing my face he was in a lot of trouble.
As it was, the girl who wanted a pish had fallen asleep too, (she must have been hugging the bowl too). She came out looking dazed. As it turned out she loved the make up and said (this is verbatim):
"I like to go a little trans-gender too sometimes."
Then I stuck the lips on her. Rock on.
It was a fucking great party.
