by Thrifty



The skies were clear in the beautiful San Francisco Bay. Valencia St. and a gentle breeze cooled our brows as we covered hill and street. A pretty uneventful afternoon until out of the quarters of our eyes, 3 meters out portside as the seagull flies, we spotted an object of a magical nature. It is widly known that pirates are an adventurous lot who leave many decisions up to chance, and when we spotted the pirate die we held it in reverence.

Not knowing whether it was a force for good or evil, we decided to consult the Internet about enchanted or cursed items. We found some information on this site.

With that information, we knew that we would never truely know if it is cursed or not. We decided to enchant the item to make damn sure that we would not be stuck with a curse. We had to improvise the ritual as google was surprisingly ignorant on the subject.

The enchanting process is a simple one involving a shot glass and your choice of strong drink (we suggest an infusion of tequila and beer).

All participants must take equal parts of the mixture and declare their intentions.

Each side is assigned a destiny and the pirate die walks indecision over the plank.

South-Yes, trust your intuition, sail out you will be successful

South East- Song of the South, a meditative moment will clear your mind (functions as a roll again)

South West-Yes with caution

West- Herbal assistance

East- Liquor, you require some liquid courage before making any sort of decision

North West- Beer, lift a glass and your spirit with a refreshing chill in the Northwest style.

North- No, cold winds bring misfortune.

***

We rolled for Gypsy Punk night at Amnesia. South East. West. East. South.

We rolled for shots. South.

We rolled for bringing flourescant tube lights to smash. North.

Proof enough, for me at least, that we had become lvl. 2 Pirate Enchanters. On to Amnesia.

Gypsy Punk Night is a pleasant mixture of burlesque, belly dancing and gypsy music. A celebration of life and endless seas of booze. (My head is pounding just recalling the evening). I highly suggest you go to the Mission district for Gypsy Punk Night at Amnesia. You will not be dissapointed.

Somewhere between crossdressers, drunken interviews and a giant blue bunny, I regained consciousness at Zeitgeist, a bar further down Valencia st. I remember telling stories in a ridiculous and over-the-top Texan accent. [fade out] I’m rubbing my beard against a ladies carpety looking jacket at the beer store.

“Do you want to feel my beard?”

her- “Sure”

“It’s got three colors in it.”

[fade out]

Rapping on Valencia San Francisco Bay, going to the park where we’ll meet the day.

[fade out]

drunkenly,”…just because I have an accent doesn’t make me a dumbass…fuckin liberal.”

[fade out]

Playing xylaphone at the park until the sun rises, “I think I should go home now ya’ll, thanks for jammin.