Well, that didn't work. Five minutes before the tram arrived came one motherfucker of a downpour. The kind where every inch of you is wet through in seconds. Socks, undies, shoes. You lose heat, and it rains more.
I didn't make it. The thought of being on a tram packed with people wet to the bone for forty minutes was too much. How's my art stamina?
Sorry hi god people. I'll probably go next week.
Rain like that is wonderful. I get excited like a kid doing nude rain dances in the backyard. SEND HER DOWN HUGHIE!
Though you do need to be able to peel off clothes and take shelter. Which is what we did.
We finished the night with red wine and a game of strip rage. One item of clothing for each bad song. Hold off if a good one comes along.
...And you know, go to bed when nude.
3 comments:
Saturday Night was Peaches Rage Night, you would've been fully clothed all night. Gee whillaker though, t'was an eighties video clip feast.
I want to do the Pat Benatar dance move at you, but I don't know how with words.
so...
~oo~
wooo! nude!
Strip Rage sounds like a wonderful rainy night activity.
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