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2010-10-02 19:49:02 ET Stupid Hackers Party Writings This place is crowded. Steam heat vapour from warm-blood bodies. And me. Jacket, sweater, pants, socks, shoes, AND NOTHING ELSE. Except glasses. But do those count as clothes? Meh. Halcyon & On & On is now playing in the air. First good song to be played. The crowd rejoices as Orbital plays on. Sweat drips down my face. From my sideburns, down to my beard like honey from mead-drunken faces. Echoes of Pushkin? Not bad. Glow in the dark string over leggings. Respect. And me whitling away with my thumbs upon a Blackberry that sort of resembles a hockey mask. Mouth hole keys being pushed. MoOooooooooooo |
