Day With Damien- Day 11
“Scary Farm”
December 5, 2000
Written by: Toker
What up everybody, this is Toker. I’m writing this so Xerxes would kindly remove his pesky, nagging nose out of my fuckin buisiness. In reality, I haven’t had the time to put down the bong, pick up the keyboard and tell you what happened with me and Damien this last Halloween. So here it is.
We decided to visit the annual Halloween Haunt at Knott’s Berry Farm. If you don’t live down here in So. Cal, it’s an amusement park, like Disneyland with rides and shit. Only during the month of October, the park takes on the Halloween theme with haunted mazes, monsters and this year, a cast of drunken assholes.
The players in this game were myself, Nick Crypt, Scotty “The Mountain Man” and of course, what would a drunken fiesta be without the notorious Damien LaVey. The festivities began when we picked up Damien. He was already drunk. Knott’s is only about 20 minutes from his house, and in that time, we mananged to inhale an entire case of Buttwiper. When we got there, we were forced to park in the adjacent school parking lot on Western Ave, due to the massive crowd already inside. We decided that more alcohol was definitely in need to insure an action packed evening and went to get some more.
We proceeded on foot to find the closest liquor store, about a 1/2 mile away. When we finally got there, we all had to piss like 6 dicked dragons. So we stumbled into the local watering hole right next to the liquor store full of senior citizens. It was called the “Toothless Tavern”, or something like that. As we were walking in the door, the jukebox shut off and all eyes were suddenly on us. Where myself and Scotty were content to use the toilet, Nick must of thought the floors weren’t shiny enough and pissed in the house mop bucket. And of course, Damien was busy pissing in the sink.
After a quick stop at the liquor store, we picked up a fifth of 100 proof peppermint schnapps (the crack of alcohol) and a 40 ouncer to chase it with. Oblivious to anyone else on the face of this earth, we walked back to the school grounds, passing the bottle between us the whole way. As we got closer to the school, we then noticed that fuckin security was everywhere. Never being the kind of people to not empty a bottle, we hung out in the school parking lot, constantly walking around to avoid being caught by the rent-a-cops.
In our effort to avoid security, we ran right into one of them. We took off like Robert Downey Jr. to an unlimited free tweakers convention. As I did my best Carl Lewis imitation, I glanced ahead to see Damien, pounding the booze, never losing stride and alternating bottles the whole way. We made a quick left around one of the school yard walls when suddenly Damien stops and screams “Hey, wait a minute! There’s only one of him and 4 of us, let’s kick his ass!” Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time, so we waited for him to come around the corner, but he never did. That was the world’s luckiest rent-a-pig. To our good fortune, Damien had a death grip on both of the bottles as if they were his own offspring. He was generous enough to share the remainder of the booze.
We finally went into the park, armed with airplane sized bottles of booze hidden on us that made it past security. We spent the rest of the night drinking more, pissing off bitches, beating up the guys dressed up as monsters and being annoyed by people who kept thinking that Nick was John Christ, formerly of Danzig.
Well, that’s it. I need to have a few more bong tokes and maybe an alcoholic beverage, storytime makes me thirsty. Until next time, that’s it. Pot donations are always accepted, so feel free to donate to MY cause anytime. See ya.