Day 435

Tuesday | May 7th, 2013

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We’re going out drinking tonight. I need a drink. The Twitchy situation aside, I just need a drink.

I ask GL if he wants to come by for a spot of vodka. This became GL, PP, BM, and DS all in my room drinking down my vodka stock. Then it became the five of us at Barcode drinking another 750 ml of vanilla vodka. Then, still unsatisfied, we got another bottle. Then it all goes splammy in my head. Thankfully, there are pictures to walk me through the remainder of the night:

First the hero image, allow me to introduce the Global Healing Center. Finally, a place where one can take their injured or maimed globe. It offers globe healing for all minor—and major—household or classroom disasters. The Global Healing Center has a Korea-only Globe Strike Team which will arrive at the scene of your incident within mere seconds of your anguished screams and airlift your globe to our center.

This photograph was taken walking home with JH.

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Second, a foreboding flatbed truck of vodka mixer/fucker-upper. This stuff also melts your teeth. I took a color because it was red and a B&W. I was still walking with JH and I saw this.

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Flashforward many hours, past the healthy dinner I ate, past the arrival of GL, a pineapple, a bag of lemons, and tonic water at my house, past the part where GL and BM started singing and Meow tells us to shut up (Wednesdays are early days for her), past the part where we giggle-stumble to Barcode, and here I am, in the bathroom, peeing, and I can’t articulate enough how picturesquely fascinating this ashtray was.

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It seems like hours later, but it’s really only been about 36 minutes and we’ve destroyed our first bottle and have just received the second—which is really more like the third because we drank a fair bit at my house. I’ve been in a wicked battle of the hiccups for the last hour (about ten minutes). I won’t give up. I am a master of hiccup suppression to drink more and then supress them again later, or tomorrow. The staff of Barcode brings us free food. It’s a nasty iceberg salad with funky pork. It has this brown sauce all around the edge for decoration. GL says it looks like war paint and I suggest he put it on his face to defend himself (no recall really, just PP, who’d stopped drinking for the art of watching, telling us about this picture, which I promptly posted to our office’s ongoing group chat, the next day when it doesn’t make sense anymore). Scream like you’re gonna kill, Kiwi!

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This here is the most important shot of the night. I’m seeing something incredible, which has shifted my focus from the hiccups I can’t stop to this amazing thing. Unfortunately, I’m too blasted to notice I’ve got my finger on the lens or the image is too dark. Either way, same effect. How do I know I’m still at Barcode? Geotagging, it’s useful.

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And lastly, here I am home, safe, and still hiccuping. I don’t remember leaving Barcode or getting here, yet here I am, safe, standing. The time is not even 02.00. We left my room around 23.30. We drank way too fast. Oh well. I do remember checking the bottle into keeping so we can go back and drink the other half later.

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