I’m a terrible movie watcher. Not so much because I can’t sit through one (although that is generally the case), but more so because I just never get around to watching them. Well, Monster Ball got me in the mood to watch Party Monster… what a gong show. Renee and I sat for a good hour and a half in Jesse’s bed, and I mean, it started off great. Parties, illicit substances, dress up; fantastic. Death, falling-outs, webs of lies? Not so much.
I left that movie quite depressed, and I don’t even do drugs, so it’s not like I was emotionally invested in any of the characters. I do, however, enjoy the odd dress up party. Odd in the sense of once in a while, as well as odd in the sense of extremely obscure. Not Eagle vs Shark. Before reaching the end, all I wanted to do was go to a big party; I even played Ladytron on loop for two days. That, friends, is commitment to a lifestyle that I don’t even lead.
Speaking of parties, last night I ended up at 737. If you live in Montreal, it’s on the top floor of that building with the circling light. If you don’t live in Montreal, the club is right underneath a big light which scans the skies all night, just to clear that one up. Anyways, it was quite the night. Jesse’s friend’s sister’s birthday party… I think.
The club was cheesy, really cheesy. It was bump and grind central, people did the Soulja Boy dance, and I got rip-roaringly drunk; as someone in my situation must. The situation in question has yet to really be discussed, that post may take me a couple of days to build up… the lesser situation is the fact that I was in a club that was packed with girls in polyester dresses that barely touch their thighs, and “men” with collared shirts underneath some brand-plastered t-shirt. i haven’t had my hand (et all) grabbed by so many men before in my entire life. The moral of the story is don’t go to 737, and don’t watch Party Monster before you plan on going to a rave.
Life lessons, clearly this will help all of you in the future.