I woke up for the second day in a row next to a large, bearded man. The effect of driving eighteen hours had turned him into a comatose pile of a man. As everyone slowly woke from their slumber, we eventually descended to the buffet and ate until eating was no longer a priority to either body or mind. And then.
We found ourselves watching Unaware, a discovered-footage film about the grandson of a former military man uncovering a dead alien from the Roswell crash. Deep shit, man. Then action flicks. Then animations. Apparently it was Send Your Nightmare Fuel to Alabama Day in Korea, because not one of these were kid-friendly. One experimental short (Dessicator) later, we needed a break from the creativity-deprived. Also, nourishment. A very important part of a balanced diet, food is.
One incredibly heated lunch later, we returned to watch the tail end of a film about George Washington reincarnating as a hick stoner, trying to save humankind from literally puking their brains out, by smoking their brains. Deep shit, man. It was at that point that shit got too real or too boring or too both and I needed to pass out in as horizontal a position as I could manage.
Hours later, it was time for comedy. But not before Little Gobie confused the living fuck out of our skulls. The comedies were well-shot, but standard fare. Turns out Something Remote lost in the comedy genre to a short about an author writing a story about what could only be described as a megaredneck. After us was Zombi: Brotherly Love, a disturbingly well-made piece. Q&A time came for us and Zombi, and passed. It was at this point my noggin had checked out, and sleep was imminent. The road back is long and sober. It turns out, for what it's worth, that Four Loko is noticeably very alcoholic from sip one, by the way.
A Malibu and Coke for you, a G&T for me,
rickie-d
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