*names and identities have been hidden to hinder narcs

So I was hanging out at my friend’s friend’s house. Barney the purple abomination was playing on TV to his two toddlers (will kids remember this or the Teletubbies 10 years from now the same way we revere Sesame Street?) Nearby, a hot chick (who was not old enough to look like a mother) was fashioning something out of a mineral water bottle, presumably a contraption to feed babies with. Awww how motherly, I thought.

The father’s bandmate was showing off his latest Cakewalk 10/8 (or whatever odd timing) progressive-like industrial rock composition. We geeked out at his crunchy guitar tone.

They adjourned to the balcony. “Do you wanna join us and smoke up?” My answer can be found here.

I thought my friend and I were there solely for the purpose of babysitting the kids, but one of them followed her mother to the balcony.

They returned, red-eyed. Oh, so the bottle was a do-it-yourself bong similiar to that of a shisha. Ingenious. The kid walked into my friend. My friend went “ow“. The kid hobbled on, happy.

At least they did it in the balcony, so I didn’t have to come home smelling suspicious.

The father unveiled an electric guitar, and his friend broke his A string. Yes kids the thick hard 5th string. So we continued geeking out, me asking about something. He answered something totally different (but still related to music.) I asked something else. Again, he gave a somewhat coherent, but totally unrelated answer. Yes kids, woking smeed brucks your fain.