River of shit.

This was a pretty memorable night with multiple jammings. I was with my friends (I'll call them Adam and Eve to avoid them getting hassled) headed out for a night in The District. It was pre-determined by Adam and myself that we were definitely hunting for some dive bars. I'm going to have to leave out exact names and areas we were at considering the amount of damage we did that night. Let the record show that every jamming on this fateful night was caused by Adam and myself, one of the few times where we jammed ourselves up. Back to the story, we end up at this complete shithole that I will never step foot in again. Right when we walk in the joint the 3 patrons of this piece of shit bar glance at us and realize the level of scum we're on is extremely higher than theirs. We pop up to the bar and order ourselves some drinks (I do not tip the bozo that serves us). If I remember correctly we drink 2 or 3 there and ask the bartender where the bars are in the area and he tells us to head in some direction, we don't listen because there's not one God damn restaurant with lights down the street the jabroni tells us to go down, just rundown, rat-infested shitholes like the one we just walked out of. So we venture off and pop into this place that seems a little too high-scale for us. I distinctly remember asking this faggot what kind of beer they had and he tells me to take a look at the menu. So me being the asshole that I am order 2 Guinness'. The guy replies saying they don't have Guinness. So I'm thinking, "Well fuck, this place blows so they probably have Budweiser." So I tell this guy we'll have 2 Budweisers, putting up 2 fingers like a real smart-ass, just the way Adam does it. The guy says something along the lines of I'm a fucking moron and he'll come back when I look at the menu. Apparently this place had all kinds of beers with fucked up names so we finally order. We also get menus for food and I order the chicken fingers which were more subpar than Ryan Leaf's pro football career. We leave and I'm disgusted until some fat skank has a tray of cupcakes and gives me one because I lied to her and said I like the Celtics (whom I fucking loathe). The cupcake was delicious and I was happy once again, so was Adam. We leave still looking for an establishment to continue our night of drinking. I see this place that looks like it's filled with a bunch of lo-fi indie rocker kids that wear box-framed glasses and carry fucking messenger bags with their laptops that they pretend they're writing their fucking memoirs or life story in while sipping espressos at fucking Starbucks. We walk in and hear music upstairs, it costs 15 dollars to go up there to watch the concert. Are you fucking kidding me? Blow me. We go into the free room and it's fucking dead. We're forced to pay the yuppie bitch to go upstairs. The music is nice but I'm unhappy as my assumption about the kids there is dead fucking on. I ask God why I'm always right about shitty situations. He answers me with a PBR tall can. I flip off the sky and start drinking. The music is amazing and I'm surprisingly becoming more open to messenger bags. No fucking clue how much time passed up there or how much money I spent on PBR but I know I've never spent that much money at one time on fucking PBR. The concert ends, I buy a few CDs and we go downstairs back to the free room and continue drinking more PBR. Adam and I start playing pool. Eve notices I'm fairly intoxicated as I'm falling asleep standing up whilst leaning on my pool cue. She determines it's time for us to leave and I grudgingly agree. We start walking what seemed like the fucking Bataan Death March back to her car so I decide to take it out on other pedestrians. Adam and myself start doing what we call "linebacker drills" down the street which is pretty much where you shuffle your feet and move from side to side while pumping your hands at the air. I see a target and wrap him up and I'm pretty sure he's terrified. I then talk to the man for about 20 minutes about Brian Bosworth and other losers. This conversation ends and we continue on our walk down the street. I linebacker drill a woman and she says, "What the FUCK is wrong with you?" Adam and I begin laughing and start doing linebacker drills through the street except this time there's traffic so we're pumping our hands at the moving cars and they scream and honk like every typical DC driver. We head back to the sidewalk and I do my Jackie Chan move where I run off the wall and land back on my feet. Adam is impressed and jumps on a car and hops onto another one and jumps back on the sidewalk. I'm thoroughly impressed with this game he created and I pop on a car. I jump from car to car to car (they're parked adjacent to the sidewalk) and I make this huge leap onto the top of this stupid fucking SUV and get more air than Spud Webb and slam down on the hood of this car completely caving the sucker in. Alarms are blasting, we scurry to the vehicle and get out of there. We tell Eve to take us to the nearest strip club. She drops us off and we walk into the joint which is guarded by some former Eastern European paratrooper who tucks his pants into his fucking combat boots. The place is disgusting and the strippers are definitely high on something as one of them watches the ceiling while dancing for 15 minutes smiling. Adam is making it rain in there while I'm watching NFL highlights. Some bitch stripper throws a coaster and tells me to wake the fuck up or something like that. We drink more there until the place closes up. We leave and we're both blackout and head into the nearest convenience store. I get some smokes, Adam comes out with smokes, caramel candies and a 20-foot spool of fucking Christmas lights. We start walking (not remembering the walk home is about 8-9 miles away and it's freezing cold out. I don't remember much of anything from this walk. We end up on some side road and we scale some 20-foot fence and start sprinting on the roof of this building trying to escape from the air that was chasing us. We contemplate scaling a wall to the bridge. Not fucking happening. We climb back down the fence and keep sprinting around aimlessly. We walk into some high class hotel and Adam asks the clerk for the Affleck party and for some reason this bozo takes him serious. He then politely asks this dipshit clerk if he can have one of the umbrellas they for some reason had available in a bucket, he says sure. We're walking around the streets with an umbrella, Christmas lights, caramel candies and a lot of cigarettes. We end up in some fucking suburban condo area and start exploring it. All the while I feel my ass rumbling because I have to take a massive shit. There's Jack-o'-lanterns everywhere and I'm extremely expressed with the condos, as is Adam. The jamming officially begins. I start smashing Jack-o'-lanterns and Adam starts smashing glass screen doors. We're destroying everything in this place, screaming at the top of our lungs for no reason whatsoever. We decide it's time to get out of that area but the place is a fucking maze. I'm sure the only thing that kept everyone inside was the fact that they were all terrified. We finally find a way out and I'm laughing so hard and I can't hold my shit in anymore. I run over to a loading dock, drop my shorts, lean against the wall and I'm shitting and pissing so hard while laughing uncontrollably. I have to continuously spread my feet out wider because the river of shit and piss is getting wider. I am laughing so hard I slowly start falling down the wall and Adam runs over and lifts me up. I have no toilet paper. I take off my nice Hanes boxer briefs and wipe my ass with them and throw 'em on the pile of shit. Adam starts running saying how we've been compromised, I chase after him with my shorts around my ankles, dong flopping around in the air. Run right past some group of Asians (no clue what the fuck they were up to at that hour). We hide in some bushes because I told Adam there were cops (which there were not). Adam calls our friend (I'll call him Johnny) and tells him we've been compromised and we need some Google Maps for a route to get back because we don't stand a chance on the main roads. I bring up that we could swim across the Potomac River but Adam brings up the fact that it would break his Christmas lights if we swam across so that plan is out the window. We man up and take it to the streets, lurking through shadows and alcoves trying to get home. We hop over a nice barbed-wire fence with ease and get into our beds at about 4 AM only for our roommates to attempt to wake us up at 5 AM. I don't move at all. Adam's room has Christmas lights all over the room, looped through cabinet handles, drawers and door springs. Needless to say, work did not go well at all that day. It was a clear cut case of the worst kind of jamming that can be done. The jamming of oneself. It made for a pretty interesting story for our friends but like always, Adam and I avoided serious trouble and unfortunately continued on with our alcoholic endeavors.