MiamiNights - Miami Night Clubs, Nightlife

So the time has come once again to celebrate the glorious birth of The Baby Jeebus Jessica.
I am turning some crappy age that no one cares about, so let's just leave it at that and get drunk. For some strange reason, as is tradition around here, you get the goods when all we get is a year older. I don't question Miami Nights authority since the last time I was lashed with twizzlers for nine days straight after I asked Lackner for a paperclip. Either way, Sign up to win a bottle tonight at O Asian Grill. (That's Saturday for you calenderless retards) I will be throwing crippled orphans off the balcony, and if you remember Easter of '01, you know that's not something to be missed. Music will be provided by the Italian Stallion himself, Danny Daze. Come laugh at my expiriment with spray tanning and buy me a shot out of sheer pity. Mazel Tov!

Many hours and annoyed cab drivers later..

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For years innumerable, ever since I got back from 'Nam, I've been plagued by seeing familiar faces everywhere I go, unable to remember who they are, why they're stuck in some peripheral useless part of my brain. When we started taking photos it got even worse: hundreds of 30-second interactions with people (almost) every night of the week, one social transaction after another, blurring together, a cloud of unknowns. This was worse last Saturday than ever before. I think it's part of my slow descent into the chasm of insanity and uncontrollable paranoia.

After careful research, I've concluded that drinking five or six glasses of champagne in a row doesn't seem to solve this problem.

Thanks to the crowd for not being so repulsive I have to delete all of the photos and cry myself to sleep. You sexy people, I love you, in an abstract, hands-off kinda way.

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