Inside my comfort zone

2:30am, and the party is over. I drank enough, drank some more, and still got to draw a little. I feel a little disappointed, there was no drama. I feel like going downstairs and causing some trouble, just a little bloodshed before the night is out. Maybe I’m in the wrong town. Those girls I thought were Russian prostitutes turned out to be only French models.

It was a fantastic year of wedding parties. It is now time to look to the future. From this beautiful gutter, the only way to look is up, into that world where the streets are lined with tinsel. Lord have mercy.

The downward spiral

A lot of things to get through tonight:

1. Just a few days till our party, I was starting to worry – what is no one shows up? What if nobody likes me and nobody comes? But then I realized – I have 6 bottles of champagne, a night off, and an amazing party mix in iTunes. Fuck ‘em if they don’t like me.

2. A doctor took my blood pressure. She said “This is suspicious, it is too good”, and took it again. She seemed excited when it was the same result. 60 over 100, or was it 100 over 60? Anyway, it was good. Then it came. She said: “This is excellent … for a man your age.” A man my age? A man “my age”? This is the first time anyone has referred to me as a human who has passed from young adulthood into absolute maturity. This is bad, bad news. I guess senility will step in when I get too tired of self-deception. I would like to announce, by the way, that I have a high sperm count.

3. It seems Fidel Castro has stepped down. This seems great – the man didn’t die or get assassinated like a Kennedy. I hope the personal vendetta of the United States and the voting public in Florida fades into its own hideous obscurity now. We all know the truth, by the way; just in case you think you were fooling any one. Everybody knows you sanction Cuba out of a petty, childish, need to empower yourselves after a series of failed invasions in what looks like your own backyard. Good for you Fidel – no matter how you are painted by your peers, and no matter even what evil you may actually hold, you will be written in history as a victor against an even bigger evil.

Promulgation time

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.

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?