On February 22nd (happy birthday Dad) we will be staging a party at the Wrong design Hong Kong headquarters in Sheung Wan.
This will be a landmark project, not only because it will be the final date on our “Wedding Tour”, but also it will be the only of our parties of which I am totally in charge.
I’m getting excited. I hope loads of people come, and everyone gets wild. I want cheap champagne and easy access to drawing implements. I want heated arguments and unplanned pregnancies.
This will be a landmark project, not only because it will be the final date on our “Wedding Tour”, but also it will be the only of our parties of which I am totally in charge.
I’m getting excited. I hope loads of people come, and everyone gets wild. I want cheap champagne and easy access to drawing implements. I want heated arguments and unplanned pregnancies.
How does one promulgate decadence? Is there a drug I can slip into the punch? Or should I just dance naked with a paintbrush in my hand and hope everyone follows suit?
2 comments:
Usually,
cocktails + good music + good mix of people & plenty of single folks + illicit substances in the bathroom =
decadence, or at least minor debauchery.
No whiskey, no wine. Life juice, spit out tomatoes. Stare at the stars and realize nothing matters. Cry over a dada poem, rage against Mayakovsky. Take off your clothes and dance around in your bones. All this in an instant before....
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