I JUST RAN INTO THE FUCKING PERUVIAN GUY FROM THAT ROOFTOP PARTY ON MASS AVE AT THE FUCKING FRED MEYER ON HAWTHORNE HERE IN PDX. NO TROLL. HE ACTUALLY RECOGNIZED ME FIRST. WE'RE KIND OF LOOKING AT EACH OTHER AND HE BUSTS OUT WITH "THIS MIGHT SOUND WEIRD, BUT...ARE YOU SPENCER'S FRIEND WHO RAN ACROSS THE ROOFTOPS FROM THE COPS WHEN THEY BUSTED THAT PARTY IN BOSTON A COUPLE YEARS AGO?"
NO FUCKING TROLL.
:lulz: Write an autobiography, dude.
:lulz:
I've had something similar happen, though with far less a kickass original event.
Omg. I forgot about that night. Shit!
I'm not surprised. The package store was like "uhh...really? you guys again?"
ETA: I hope you didn't forget about Milford. Awkward City. :x
Yeaaaaahhh.
Heh.
Yeah I was pretty shitfaced, dude.
Anyways, for those reading this, yes, ECH and I have actually met in person.
Yeah, but it was weird. I mean, every single thing about that entire day was the weirdest thing ever, from the biker gang to that yuppie that broke down crying while you were pretending to have tourettes.
OH, AND FUCKING DAVID LEE ROTH, WTF?
I thought that wasn't really him? Wait, was it?! I thought I was tripping balls the WHOLE TIME, but I remember you reassuring me that the Jack wasn't laced..either way, I couldn't run fast enough and you had to practically pick me up to get off that fucking roof. Goddamn BPD.
And me feigning tourettes got us OUT of being arrested, dude!
"No really...she needs her meds. I have to take her home to get them...yeah sure, we'll be back with a statement..."
"CHICKENFUCKER!"
*FOOM!*
I'm pretty sure there should be a Guinness World Record for longest time keeping a straight face under impossible circumstances, and I should be the record-holder.
"Are you fucking laughing at her? You think mental illness is funny? Tell me something, officer, you got any kids?"
:lulz:
But yeah...I SAW THE FUCKING PERUVIAN GUY, ABOUT 5 HOURS AGO. SOFA KING WEIRD.
He wanted to be friends. I had to disappoint him.
:lulz:
WTF is he doing in PORTLAND?!
Also, I haven't heard from Spencer in a hot minute, for that matter, either...I still remember getting to that party and being like, "Wait...you look familiar, are you East Coast Hustle?"
And you looking at me like I had 12 fucking heads. :lulz:
I didn't want to talk to him long enough to find out, but my guess is that either he flunked out of Berklee and moved out here to join some hippie anarchist artist collective or he failed out of Berklee and came out here to waste his family's money on culinary school.
For some reason, he just strikes me as culinary school dilettante material.
But, I mean, I've hung out with the guy twice and one time resulted in the Peruvian Cactus episode and the second time resulted in the rooftop chase/tourettes incident, followed by David Lee Roth (that was absolutely him) and, uhh, Milford.
We can't undo the past. We were pretty far gone...sorry about your pants again, btw.
But yeah...I'm trying to remember the Peruvian, he had that bass guitar he was trying to impress us all with, right?
No, that guy was cool. I think he was Nicaraguan. This was his roomate, the guy with the bongo drums and the Sideshow Bob hair and the really creepy eyes.
Ohhhhh...Yeah. THAT guy. He was creeping on me, now I remember.
SOFA KING WEIRD.
this thread is epic
It's also fucking true. I was just telling Richter tonight.
We didn't plan to post any of this originally so no one would judge us. The last thing THIS board needed was drama, plus, it was at a sensitive time for both of us (see also Feb/Mar 2009).