WFI: Editing the Blog's Content.

Back when Gem had posted dirty pictures in her Pee Party entry, we were getting about 24 hits a day. Which is brilliant considering I only know about two and a half people; Gem being the half, because she's mostly just an internet persona. However, I was way beyond grossed out when I checked the "referrals" stats, and noticed people were only finding out page by looking up things like "peeing boys" and "piss porn".

That's not cool.

So I edited her post and removed the images, which were directly linked to their respective fetish sites.


And ever since our daily hits number has been dwindling. First it went down to 20, and then 19, and then 14, and then 12...

But we bounced back! Who knew so many people googled things like, "is Brandi Carlile gay??" or "How gay is Brandi Carlile!" And who knew that the 28th return was none other than "Another reason why I'm SORTA gay!!!! Wow, right?

(And now this post will pop up as a find too!!!)

Ah, but alas, back down it went.


To 7.


SEVEN.


Five of those are probably me and Gem, seeing if the other wrote anything.


We haven't, by the way.

But for our one dedicated reader (or is it "one, dedicated reader"?), there will be some craigslist posts to come.


But from now on, all direct links to pornography sites stay up!!

THUNDERDOME! and possible final blog ever.

So, I'm packing as we speak to go to Seattle tonight. All this week people have been wishing me luck, saying heartfelt goodbyes, and saying they're really going to miss me. My mom and sister even came down to visit on Thursday. And we all went to a meet and greet/fare well dinner with Emma, Kaitlin, and Mary. Katie and Emma called me on speaker phone last night to tell me they're going to miss me, but I'd talked to them less than an hour before and would see them less than an hour later. It was really starting to creep me out, the melodrama. So, I'm convinced I will probably die on this trip. Now, I'm not afraid of planes and I don't think someone will kill me, but you know, I might die. Everyone has said their final goodbyes and I've spent time with everyone I really love and I think it would be okay, really. I guess. I mean, as okay as dying can be. So, it is not so amazing this blog entry, it's not so WFI, but it may be my last WFI and final blog ever. So, you're going to have to read it and like it. If I live to tell the tales of my future misadventures, I'll remember your goodwill in reading this story of Thunderdome and grace you with PICTURE blogs as I've bought a new camera. Stay tuned. I'm sure Sasha will have at least 88 blogs to keep you entertained between now and my computer ETA next week.s

Intent on having one fantastic night of fun before I leave for my 10 day trip to the northwest coast and my imminent death, I initially wanted to beg for tickets outside Rilo Kiley and see my favorite band in the entire world for the 10th time or so, go out dancing and crash before 3 to wake up early and do laundry and pack. I spent most of the day incredibly stressed out doing all the errands I needed to get done before leaving. In typical fashion, I had a small, hunger induced emotional meltdown on the phone in a changing room at the mall and me and Emma decided to scrap that idea and just go to some dance party later on.

Then I ate mall chinese food and fuck anyone who thinks that's anywhere near a BFI. Cause it's not. I ate it in the cab home and got sticky shit all over me. Eating greasy food in the dark is really difficult. I like to think perhaps the last advice I'll ever give you is "Don't eat mall chinese food in a cab." Makes slipping into eternity all the more comforting.

Moving on. We were invited to a dance party by my ongoing 1A. He's neat. And since we can't go anywhere without a group, Heidi, Elise, Elise's friends, Heidi's friend Brittany, and Patti all met us there. We didn't know what to expect really. I imagined a super sweaty dance party in a cramped legion hall, shirtless boys hanging from American flag poles, girls we don't know who don't want to be friends with us lined up at the bathroom, inventing new dance moves to avoid people we know and don't like while trying to strategically dance near cute boys, and general mayhem. Our usual Friday night. We show up to the American Legion on the Charles in Cambridge and the party is outside! Next to the river! There's beer! There's flashing lights! Theres tons of people we DON'T know! Awesome. I guess it was like a rave only not completely retarded. I've really only seen those things happen in Lifetime movies. Although I can't say anyone wasn't slipped roofies and raped last night, I CAN say there were several djs, we drank several beers, we hung out with several friends we actually like, and had several hours of fun. What what!

Thunderdome Recap:
Sweaty dance party: negative
Fun non-sweaty dance party: CHECK! (my favorite kind!)
Idiot boys: negative
Girls in bathroom line: indoors
People we know and don't like: nowhere in sight.

Who could ask for more?

Toward the end of the night Mary says, "Hey that guy looks like Craig!" Emma says, "Everyone here looks like Craig!" Then I said, "It is Craig!!!" Craig is like, king of Boston bike dudes, is some sort of team leader, and had some organizational role in the Pee Party. I don't really know him or much about him, but he's one of Emma's best friends. So we hung out with Craig for a little bit to find an after party with some pot since I left my drugs at home. After much discussion (Should we go to the Hills? [Mission Hill, that is] Should we go to our house? Should we not go at all? Should Mary take that guy home? OMG WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO), we settled on bourbon and drugs at Craig's house. I would have been content to go home and sleep knowing all the things I had to do today. So, we head over to Craig's, smoke, listen to music, talk about bikes, look at pictures, watch Mary swing on Craig's swing, I fall asleep and before you know it it's 5:30 in the morning! Before you know it? That's like Nexthingyouknow. Nexthingyouknow??? What?! Anyway, the WFI here is DON'T GO OUT ALL NIGHT WHEN YOU HAVE TO DO LAUNDRY ALL DAY AND FLY TO SEATTLE IN LESS THAN 12 HOURS.

The end.

Please send good I hope Gem lives vibes. I appreciate them.

WFI - sharing a blog with Gem who NEVER CONTRIBUTES

or is it, WFI - sharing a blog with LEWIS who contributes far too much!!!


either way, i have a few things for today.

THING NUMBER ONE

we'll start off with my bike!!

it now looks like this....



and you might say spray painting my "pretty bike" a ghastly florescent orange, and not even limiting the paint to the frame but painting the tires/pedals/gears/spokes was the worst fucking idea. but i think it's a wonderful theft deterrent (and waaaay less geeky than the purple...)!

THING NUMBER TWO

here is a screen shot of our site meter - which monitors who comes here, how long they stay, where they're from, how they got here etc (because we like to pretend we are important enough to know that stuff). most of our hits come from people looking for PEE PORN. because of this!!!



and

THING NUMBER THREE

a wonderful craigslist personal ad. WFI all the way.

WFI: Peeing on other people.

So I went to a party last night. A bike messenger party. After a race. In 90 degree heat. I think everyone was delirious and drunk and wet with sweat. We went for a dance party, but there were other ideas in other minds.

We arrive to the loft space and wait in a line 6 deep to pee in a bathroom with no toilet paper. Thank god for coffee filters! I've only been in a comparably grimy bathroom in rest stops in Jersey. Also, they do their dishes in the bathroom sink. Ew.

Moving into the larger dance space filled with about 100 sweaty, barely clothed, well tattooed, long haired boy bike messenger bodies, we are all in the dark. I am alone then looking for Mary or Emma or Lola or Craig or just anyone I know. The music has stopped. There are minutes of nervous confusion walking through the steamy room thick with pot odor and beer sweating of all the boys, groping everyone to find people I knew. Suddenly, the lights are back on and a babe with a megaphone is announcing the drinking contest. The rules: You must drink a can of PBR in the allotted amount of time while everyone holds a shiny tarp above their heads. When the megaphone announces NEW BEER, you drink another. If you haven't finished your last one you are out. Last one standing wins $500. P.S. You must clean your own piss or puke. When it starts, it is mayhem. I run to Mary in the corner. All the boys are going crazy, yelling, drinking, throwing beer cans, stepping on them, spraying beer everywhere. It lasted about 15 minutes. That's like 15 beers. When there is a final winner, everyone who has a beer dumps it on the poor/rich guy. There is beer raining everywhere in the room and a half inch of liquid pooling on the floor. WE WERE HAVING SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!

Then the WFI/greatest thing happened. Amidst the mayhem, there is a guy in the center of the crowd who whips his dick out and starts peeing straight up in the air peeing on everyone in sight. Mary and I run into a corner and hide behind two other boys. This guy's bladder was bottomless. He just peed on everyone everywhere. Then someone pushes him away and yells at him and he stops peeing. Only moments later he begins peeing again. Suddenly a large, sexy black man runs across the room like a dark knight in shining armor and punches the kid in the face three times knocking him into the speakers and dropping the speaker into the dj table. WE WERE HAVING SO MUCH MORE FUN!!!!! Dude fucking deserved it! DON'T PEE ON PEOPLE!!!! I was nervous we were going to have a fight club moment, but Babe With a Megaphone goes over to calm down Sexy Black Guy and the crisis is averted.

After the owner of the loft mopped up the pee and beer and sweat, the lights were off again and the dance party was back on. We danced like we had never danced before. People trickled out of the room and we were soon the owners of the dance floor. We were maniacs. Maniacs on the floor. We were dancing like we never danced before. When we gave up hours later, the fun was officially over. We ARE the party and we were leaving.

Out on the street trolling for dirty, drunk boys to take home (the good ones were gone already), we met a girl named Padmani which looks nice and all but sounds like Pudmoney. She was a wasted riot. I fell asleep in the car and woke up to a dehydrated headache.

WFI: Peeing on people. BFI: Having the most fun friends.