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Sunday Morning Coming Down


TRIBE Member
You know when you actually are sad that the weekend is over? Like when you've been having just such a good time since (oh) Thursday, and then at somepoint sunday morning you realize you have to begin the detox phase and acknowledge the lifelong drudgery that is work on Monday?

You know, once your friends drop you off and there's nothing left to do but clean up the remnants of three lost days, and muse over all the wantonly reckless things you did?

My hair is still all gummy from the aveda on friday and smoky from the bonfire on saturday. Also, try as I may, I can't seem to get the smell of gas off my hands or the permanent markered "cocksmoker" from my forehead.

Anyone else also have the problem of irresistably and inexorably molesting anyone who ends up sharing their bed? I really gotta stop doing that. I mean really, if you get naked and lay beside me, even if there are three or four people "sleeping", you gotta expect that somehow my hand's gonna wander into nether regions during the night. Strangely though I think people like it.

A sadder thing is I doubt I will remember anything of my unicycle lessons or how to change gears on those teeny-tiny motorbikes.

I'm pretty sure I can now tell the difference between a hangover and actual alcohol withdrawl.

Also Kris Kristofferson is a God. Billy Joel's not bad either. Trance sucks.

Alex D. from TRIBE on Utility Room


TRIBE Member
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