Oh yeah, I went to Charlie's costume party last week--it was pretty cool. I made a last minute decision to go as a vampire because my "horned god" costume was too hot. This guy I know named Damon came as Evil Ernie, & my old singer from our shitty band, Kevin, showed up in a kilt. I didn't expect to see him, but he works with Charlie's roommate, Helen. Charlie looked quite fetching as a french maid (or hooker, hard to tell sometimes) with faux cum stains on her costume. Alexandria was there, too, in this gothic evening dress & way tall heels. Chris came as Jesus & these two other guys came as mormons, with name tags reading: "Church of Jesus H Christ of Later-Day Satanists." The name on one's tag was "Ron Jeremy" & the other's was "Peter North." Good times were had by all. The only thing that sucked was I had to leave at midnight so I wouldn't turn into a pumpkin (actually, I had to be at work at 8:00 am the next day).

Burn in Hell
posted by El Bastardo at 4:37 PM

Damn, I'm tired. No sleep last night. Anyway, here's another Bastard article for you fucks, from some guy calling himself George III.

RIGHT UNDER THEIR NOSES
by George III
Back in ‘87 or ‘88, when I lived in San Francisco, I had quite an interesting close call. My girlfriend and I were dope fiends at the time, so my memory is a bit blurry. We were passengers in a car driven by our connection, a Mexican illegal (let’s call him “Juan”), who was driving us out to the Sunset to buy four or five grams of heroin. Juan’s car was of the “hooptie” variety, “suspension saggin’, tailpipe draggin’”, you know. A cop magnet, in other words. But business must be taken care of, so there we were, sittin’ at an intersection waiting to turn left, itchin’ to get home and break into all this good dope that was under the driver’s-side front seat in a fake coca-cola can.
None of us saw the cop car until Juan screeched into the intersection through a red light right in front of them. Putting their lights on, they know they have our full attention.
As we pulled over, Juan told us to take the coke can with us. He was illegal, and surely going to jail, or at least to be deported. I thought the fake coke can was hellaciously obvious, and not wanting to risk jail, I left it lying there.
The cops split us up and immediately cuffed Juan. My girlfriend and I are white and played the “innocent college students who had a ride from this guy we met at a party once.” San Francisco State University was nearby, so it sounded likely. The cops gave us a lecture on picking our friends better, and let us go without a search or any other type of investigatory procedures.
We told Juan’s girlfriend right away, and she tried to get access to the impound yard. Since the car was not in her name, she couldn’t get into it to recover our heroin. However, a week or so later, when Juan returned from his vacation in Mexico and went there, guess what he found under the front seat?! Yes, it was still there, undisturbed by SF’s finest! I kicked myself for my paranoia. I should’ve taken it with me in the first place! I guess I overestimated the intelligence of the cops. Oh well.
These days, my life is thankfully not determined by such dangerous cravings. A little more boring maybe, but a hell of a lot safer.

Burn in Hell
posted by El Bastardo at 4:20 PM