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Jan. 20th, 2005 07:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ghiniSaturday we headed to San Diego to see Brooke. That's not all we saw...
First off, we got lost on the trip. Then we wandered through Orange County. It's like a giant Buckhead on the coast.
Finally we made it to San Diego and Brooke. For those of you who only knew Brooke in Atlanta, or online, you haven't seen Happy-Brooke. Happy Brooke is kind of terrifying in a cute way. It's like she overdosed on crystal meth and antidepressants at the same time. If she smiled anymore, I think her head would split in half.
We met her family, who she had forgot to tell we would be staying over. Mom is like an older, mellower Brooke. Her sister, Rosie, is a ten-year-old, guitar-carrying baby-goth. Cutest. Thing. Ever. Her dog, Dempsy, who I tragically forgot to photograph, is about 120 pounds of doberman. He's afraid of people. When he sits, he doesn't sit in front of the couch. He walks up to the couch, faces away, then backs his butt up over the couch and folds his legs under him. So the back half is sitting on the couch and the front half is standing. Strange, strange dog.
So we head out that night to a birthday party for one of Brookes friends, Josh. He was cool:
So all the San Diego gothabilly crowd is out for this party. What is everyone talking about? They are all talking about LiveJournal being down. I'm amongst kindred souls.
The bar was amazingly neat. The walls were lined with garbage cans, painted by artists, of drunken cartoon characters. I have now seen the Powerpuff Girls puking in an alley.
The bathroom urinal had some interesting graphitti.
Brooke and Cynthia led a spirited intellectual conversation
The birthday boy got his cake, and loudly stated "I wish for... BUTTSEX!"
I met a guy named... Guy. He was the official movie star of the night. Nice guy too. He's![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
guycc if you are interested. I have to go see the new Wes Craven movie so I can yell 'I know that guy!'. Unless the movie sucks.
Oh, and he gave Brooke a Romulan Ale, which is a truly nasty blue beer. That's why her tongue was blue. Either that or she blew a Smurf.
I don't remember their names, but these are more friends of Brooke. There are sordid stories. Buy her a Bud tallboy and she will tell all.
After we left Brooke drunkenly directed us to her favorite 24 hour Taco Stand. Damn good, but messy for all involved. Oh, be forewarned. When drunk, Brooke likes to sing along to a Pinback song. Not a problem, except when she's also the navigator, and the first word of the chorus is "Stop!"
The 20 minute drive back to her place is when her body decides it is a great idea to start the hiccups. Our conversation goes like this:
Brooke: Turn le HIC left.
Me: (Laughing my ass off)
Brooke: It's HIC not funn HIC funny! HIC
Me: Yes it is.
We get back, where Brooke offers to let us sleep in her bed. One problem: her bed is occupied by Dempsy the Doberman. Dempsy is heavier than Brooke, and sober, so her attempts to move him all fail. Sometimes he will shift and sit his ass on her pillow, as a sign of either love, or contempt.
Brooke wanders around with a bottle of whiskey loudly declaring "I'm doing shots straight out of the bottle" as she polishes it off. We all geek out briefly, then go to sleep.
Tune in soon for the thrilling conclusion! Nude beaches! Cliff climbing! Seals! And more!
First off, we got lost on the trip. Then we wandered through Orange County. It's like a giant Buckhead on the coast.
Finally we made it to San Diego and Brooke. For those of you who only knew Brooke in Atlanta, or online, you haven't seen Happy-Brooke. Happy Brooke is kind of terrifying in a cute way. It's like she overdosed on crystal meth and antidepressants at the same time. If she smiled anymore, I think her head would split in half.
We met her family, who she had forgot to tell we would be staying over. Mom is like an older, mellower Brooke. Her sister, Rosie, is a ten-year-old, guitar-carrying baby-goth. Cutest. Thing. Ever. Her dog, Dempsy, who I tragically forgot to photograph, is about 120 pounds of doberman. He's afraid of people. When he sits, he doesn't sit in front of the couch. He walks up to the couch, faces away, then backs his butt up over the couch and folds his legs under him. So the back half is sitting on the couch and the front half is standing. Strange, strange dog.
So we head out that night to a birthday party for one of Brookes friends, Josh. He was cool:
So all the San Diego gothabilly crowd is out for this party. What is everyone talking about? They are all talking about LiveJournal being down. I'm amongst kindred souls.
The bar was amazingly neat. The walls were lined with garbage cans, painted by artists, of drunken cartoon characters. I have now seen the Powerpuff Girls puking in an alley.
The bathroom urinal had some interesting graphitti.
Brooke and Cynthia led a spirited intellectual conversation
The birthday boy got his cake, and loudly stated "I wish for... BUTTSEX!"
I met a guy named... Guy. He was the official movie star of the night. Nice guy too. He's
guycc if you are interested. I have to go see the new Wes Craven movie so I can yell 'I know that guy!'. Unless the movie sucks.Oh, and he gave Brooke a Romulan Ale, which is a truly nasty blue beer. That's why her tongue was blue. Either that or she blew a Smurf.
I don't remember their names, but these are more friends of Brooke. There are sordid stories. Buy her a Bud tallboy and she will tell all.
After we left Brooke drunkenly directed us to her favorite 24 hour Taco Stand. Damn good, but messy for all involved. Oh, be forewarned. When drunk, Brooke likes to sing along to a Pinback song. Not a problem, except when she's also the navigator, and the first word of the chorus is "Stop!"
The 20 minute drive back to her place is when her body decides it is a great idea to start the hiccups. Our conversation goes like this:
Brooke: Turn le HIC left.
Me: (Laughing my ass off)
Brooke: It's HIC not funn HIC funny! HIC
Me: Yes it is.
We get back, where Brooke offers to let us sleep in her bed. One problem: her bed is occupied by Dempsy the Doberman. Dempsy is heavier than Brooke, and sober, so her attempts to move him all fail. Sometimes he will shift and sit his ass on her pillow, as a sign of either love, or contempt.
Brooke wanders around with a bottle of whiskey loudly declaring "I'm doing shots straight out of the bottle" as she polishes it off. We all geek out briefly, then go to sleep.
Tune in soon for the thrilling conclusion! Nude beaches! Cliff climbing! Seals! And more!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-01-21 06:24 am (UTC)HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!
That's great! Good times associated with that party. The "Legend of Brooke" continues....
Ah, well, I'm back on set tomorrow, so I get to be sleep-deprived once more.
Cool pics. =)
no subject
Date: 2005-01-21 04:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-21 04:52 pm (UTC)San Pedro was rockin' tho, we should have stayed there longer.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-22 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-22 08:37 pm (UTC)