my brother dave
silent devil

The gig in Boston has been cancelled, but I wouldn't worry about it, its not a big college town
Matt: "Dan, since we're rehashing the little bits of memory we have, tell me something you remember about this weekend, maybe something that I don't know even happened."
Me: "In my bag, I have a pair of black panties, and I have NO CLUE where they came from."
Marc: "That sentence pretty much summed up the weekend right there."

click for boston gallery
click for my boston gallery
here for matts gallery

Matt, Marc and I arrived at our hotel in Boston, and waited for Pete and Laddy, who had already arrived hours earlier but were out looking for refreshements.

When they returned, Laddy and Pete wanted to film our excited entrance into the hotel room for the video they were submitting for the Dispatch DVD. As it turns out our mock over the top excitement was the most noteworthy part of the first night. This first night was the clearest of all the scattered memories of the trip, which is sad because it was the least fruitful.

We went out looking at the city but mostly in search of alcohol, but with no luck, however a nice guy on the street did give us his old fake ID, which was helpful except that we still would have needed two more for all of us to get in somewhere.

The next morning we got up early to continue the search, and after some failed attempts, everything turned up gravy.

Now here's where the memories of our de-Bostonauchery can only be recalled in fragments topic by topic. See what I did there, i mixed Boston and debauchery, yes clever, and the fact that it needed an explanation shows just how clever.

The Asian Schizo

Matt, Marc and I went to get McDonald's breakfast and with our meal, free entertainment was provided as long as you could stomach the awkwardness of the risque material presented. At a table across from ours, the only other occupied table, sat an asian woman who was having a long and indepth conversation with someone. Nowadays, with the abundance of cell phones, one might not be shocked by a woman, seemingly alone talking to herself, except that she wasn't on a cell phone...she was just a schizophrenic crazy lady.

At first the conversation was just normal, questions for no one and answers to invisible questions asked, nothing extraordinary considering you've come to terms with the fact that she's a looney toon. But then the V-chip started working overtime as the rating of the program escalated from TV-G to TV-MA. It all began when she started talking about her invisible friend drinking in front a 10 year old. Now she was miss morals about the whole thing expressing shock that he or she would drink with a partner while the 10 year watched and she inquired incredulously, if the kid joined them for a drink, the answer to which I couldn't hear, as it wasn't real.

Then at this point someone changed the channel and it wasn't TV, it was HBO. The woman started yelling about showing her pussy to this magic friend on the toilet in the train station...We shifted uncomfortably in our seats and avoided eye contact until the point when we were leaving at which time, I may have gone too far when I asked the woman to please say hi to her friend for me, which got a hush of innapropriateness at the time but brought some giggles later during our more inebriated moments.

The Road to the Dispatch Concert

I'm not so sure how exactly we got there, Laddy and Pete had been to the Hatch Shell on the Back Bay twice earlier in the day so we can only assume that they led the way. We were all completely trashed and it was very hot, being the sensible discrete fellas that we are, somewhere along the way our walk to the concert turned into a full sprint...without shirts. I don't know which exhibitionist felt the desire to go topless first but I'm pretty sure all of the passersby were better off for it.

We were running through the streets and busy intersections shirts dangling from our pockets, me filming the escapade haphazardly, and I spotted a man carrying a soccerball in a cardboard casing, and figured, why not accost this man. With my camera flailing about in my hands I can only remember bits and pieces of following this fella for several blocks getting him on film and shouting about making him a star on the internet.

I really wish I could recall what in particular about this guy set me off on thinking that he was the next big thing, but I was really sure of him and my services as talent promoter. He was most likely confused by this shirtless harrasser, but the bits that we all remember is that he was a good sport about the whole thing and laughed most of the time. I remember losing him for a second and then running after him into a sporting goods store where he was headed to return the soccerball, before finally returning to the marathon towards the concert.

The Last Dispatch

I'm not so good with judging the number of people in a crowd, but the concert was packed. It either had 500,000 people or 500, but either it was pretty jumping. From the hazy cloud of jibberish that is my grain soaked mind, I'm pretty sure the concert was much much bigger than the capacity of Fenway Park, but the home of the Red Sox only holds like 36 thousand people, so saying the concert was bigger isn't really that good a reference point...because how much bigger, right?

I remember being in the crowd with Matt really enjoying life with some kid in an orange shirt and his friends. We smoked cigars and really communicated with the other 300,000+- people in attendence. I vaguely recall a band playing, but don't ask me their name, HAHA I know it was dispatch...cuz it said it on the orange shirt.

I found a bottle of suntan lotion on the ground and sprayed it all over my face hair and matts clothes, I only know this only because my hair and matts clothes were stained with greasy white goo all weekend...semen joke.

In the ruckus of my fuzy actions I was the center of attention for some time, being filmed by the guy next to me, dancing and even ripping my nice button down nautica shirt to pieces and tying a strip of it around my neck in a fashion that Matt said looked so good it could have been a sober decision.

Laddy, Pete and Marc ended up finding us in the crowd somehow, and marc stayed with me and matt as Laddy and Pete pressed onwards and got up to the front row.

Sometime during the concert, there was an empty water bottle fight, as people through their used liquid containers into the crowd and then picked up the fallen ones and threw them again. When this happened, some people started firing bottles, others looked to avoid the debris, but I stood up tall and put my chin high and snapped at the air with my mouth trying to catch bottles with my face.

Well ask and you shall recieve, because during the fight I got hit in the face with a full can of Chef Boyardee, and found another full can at my feet, which might have also hit me, because I have bruises everywhere. There was a canned food drive at the concert that I remember reading about, but alas these two cans never made it to the bellies of the needy. I don't remember being too phased by the cans, though I did try to open one of them with my teeth and somehow transported the other one back to my hotel later despite not remembering doing it.

Matt was very involved in hoisting people up in the air to crowd surf, and at one point I was one of these people. The biggest problem with the crowd surfing, is that I don't think I was aware that I was above the crowd until after I hit that empty spot and came crashing down on my arm, which swelled up to double it's size, rendering my elbow useless for the remainder of the weekend.

Aftermath of the Last Dispatch

After I was aware of my arm having swelled up, I was feeling some pain and we were all very thirsty so Marc, Matt and I started making our way out of the crowd, with me leading the way. Obviously, we got separated and I was very lost and alone. I wandered about for awhile and ended up meeting Orange shirt dude and his friends who said that we should all go to Hooters, which I guess sounded all right to me because I remember following them to a cab, but I guess I never got in the cab, because the next memory I have is of laying down in a small grass patch behind the Hatch Shell down by the docks, talking into my voice recorder as people stared at me.

I might have taken a short nap here or maybe not, I know that somehow I ended up in the Back Bay area of Boston by myself, thankfully walking the long way but still sort of the right general direction back to the hotel. I ended up walking down a street lined with cafes and small shops and went into one that caught my eye and ending up buying something rather expensive for my parents.

As I was coming out of the store and stumbling down the steps holding so tightly on my new purchase because I knew I was in no state to not lose things, I said hello to two lovely girls, named Kat and Lara. They probably noticed my drunkeness because they asked where the nearest liquor store was and after some flirting I called them out on the fact that I bet they wanted me to buy them the liquor for them because they were underage. I told them that I was also underage but they were welcome to drink with me back at the hotel, and we became fast friends, and went into a henna tatto shop to get matching brands on our skin. After Kat got hers, me and Lara bailed on the plan and decided against the tattoos, sort of alienating Kat by accident.

Eventually I was able to figure out where the Prudential Center was, and the girls and I made our way towards it. The Prudential Center is a skyscraper, which was near our hotel, the bottom of which is a very impressive mall. While the three of us were walking through the mall we walked right past Marc and Matt who were flirting with the Head Massage Kiosk girl from Israel that we had met earlier that morning in the Prudential Center.

I noticed them and we all got very excited at the smallness of the world, or rather city, or rather what the odds were. While introductions were made and they continued to flirt with Israel's Daughter, Lara and I found out that we had the exact same surgery for a herniated disc, both on the left side, only one lumbar from each others and only a week or so apart. She had only completed the surgery 3 weeks prior and still had the bandage on, while I had just the scar. Again the smallness of the world befuddled us.

Eventually we made it back to the Hotel and drank a little more with the girls. At this point Kat, who had felt a little left out when me and Lara discovered our back surgery connection, made a very dangerous joke, or plea for attention, or serious misguided decision to make motions toward jumping out of our hotel window which was wide open, which was more than a little weird.

I don't know how we met up with Pete and Laddy again, but we did and we were all, including Lara and Kat, off to the HardRock.

The HardRock Boston

It took us a ridiculously long time to get to the HardRock because the girls were taking a slightly slower pace than Matt and Marc who led most of the way. The girls spent a lot of time hugging, kissing and hanging off of just about each one of us during the walk, but spent most of the time with Pete, Laddy and I, because Matt and Marc were starving and not in the mood for such dillydallying. I believe I referred to them as Pollywogs jumping from one guy to the next. Either Pollywogs or Whores. Thats funny right? No? shut up...

Eventually we made it to the HardRock and Matt laid the cards right on the table, trying to make it very easy for the waitress, by telling her that he did not have an ID on his person, so she could choose to serve him or not, but that if she wanted to, he would have a Corona. The waitress must have taken this as a personal attack, or maybe it reminded her of her poor dead dog, Chuckles, who had often been described as Miles Away From Ordinary, because she got very upset and left, we were told later she was crying in the back.

A new waitress, a real tough cookie, took over the table and got right into Matt's face and made some remarks about him being Sassy, in other words the cat from Homeward Bound, and he did not appreciate being called a pussy, or the insinuation that he had a voice like Sally Fields for that matter.

So after the orders were taken, the decision was made to just up and leave before the food came. However, the girls did not get the memo, and were not in any condition to be leaving in secrecy or haste, so Laddy and I stayed with them. The girls went outside to make phone calls to ex boyfriends who might be able to pick their drunk asses up in the city, and I went outside to call Marc, Pete and Matt to tell them that the food had arrived and that Laddy and I didn't order any of it...and inquire as to what the fuck?

Lara and Kat did some crying and some hugging, and a bunch of guys hanging outside the HardRock started calling them lesbians, so I figured these guys were allright and started talking to those guys about being stuck with the bill and as well as the girls, but had to cut the convo short when the girls took off for the entrance to Mass Pike, with intent to hitchhike to New Hampshire.

I stopped them from walking down the highway ramp but they wouldn't listen to much else I had to say and took off down the street. Thinking that I had seen the last of them, I went back in to the restaurant and drank the beers and ate some of the appetizers that we didn't order with Laddy. We found the original waitress, Sally McCriesalot, and apologized for whatever set her off, had the rest of the food wrapped up, Laddy paid the bill and we left.

Outside the HardRock, not a minute had passed before we were reunited with Lara and Kat who were now hysterical in tears, drunk and lost, around the far side of the building, back behind the dumpsters. We did our best to console them, offering a place to stay or help getting to a subway station, and volunteering phones to try to call friends for rides home. We ended up walking with them for what seemed like ages, losing the food we had had wrapped up on people's doorsteps along the way.

As Laddy and I tried to get them to make a decision about whether or not to stay with us in the hotel or try to take a subway home, we were pulled and pushed sexually back and forth by our particular female companions. Kat was all over Laddy and Lara was all over me, both of who were each whispering in our respective ears things about going back to our rooms with us and things that they intended to do to us there, and then completely contradicting themselves with incomplete thoughts of getting home in some fasion, the details of which they assumed would be ironed out later.

I would like to note that both of us were very overly nice to these two ladies, spending most of the night protecting them from getting hit by cars, and were not in any way trying to convince them to hook up with us, we weren't going to turn it down or rule the possibility out, but we did not apply any undue pressure to anything except just not to die with their blood on our hands.

Since about the time we got to the HardRock, Lara had been mixing into her conversations some things that were incomprehensible. While walking back she was rambling on about "Balls" and how "you never want to convey Balls, but you can't help know know what I'm saying here, because Balls, but you can't always convey balls." What the fuck does that mean? Well i found out later that all it means is that since she had just recently had her back surgery, she was still on a Vicadin when she came back to our room and finished that bottle of Rum...which isn't a real smart play. That's just about as smart as Kat being drunk and pretending to jump out a hotel window...or me taunting a schizo, or not realizing you were crowd surfing until your arm is swelling.

We walked them to a subway station and hopefully spent enough time on the streets with these girls so that Kat could sober up enough to get Lara and herself off of the subway when they reached their stop.

Some More

That night some other very funny stuff happened involving smoking and escort services, I curled up in a ball with my swelling arm and passed out under a sleeping bag.

The next day we took a tour of Fenway, where we got to go on the field and go everywhere including the dugout, Peske's Pole, and on top of the Green Monster.

We went to Faneul Hall and Quincy Market and saw a hilarious street performer, and ate lunch at the Cheers Replica Bar and restaurant. Laddy ordered the Norm Buger which was in all reality bigger than his face, and he finished it all, it only took a lot of hilarious coaching, deliberate swallowing and several hours to complete, but when he was done he had earned a certificate suitable for framing which he can now look at with fondess the way he used to look at his penis before his gut got in the way.

We were also very nearly involved in an accident while in the cab of a reckless cabbie.

Laddy: "You can't buy happiness."
Me: "No, it doesn't come in a pill...but you can buy ignorance, a whole lot of ignorance...and therefore bliss."
danwho kissed you on the nose on 08.04.04 @ 12:39 AM [link]

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