The Waterworks Fiasco
(This memoir is a trip story. I’m attempting to channel the spirits in order to bring my mind to “Peaking, The Trippiest Place At Your Current Locations Everywhere” where the motto is: “It’s an experience.” However, I doesn’t haz drugs. This album is dope, though. Dope is a drug of sorts, even though I’d avoid heroin and just do things that are dope instead. What I’m saying is click here for 99 Songs of Revolution condensed into 13 songs. Have a nice trip!)
Oh man… you guys don’t even know. That’s why I gotta tell you. Remember that time I told you how I ran from the cops tripping balls on 8 hits of LSD and got hit by a cop car? Have you ever asked yourself exactly HOW I ended up watching pure adrenaline put my heartbeat into concrete? No?
Well I ask myself that question all the time, so sit with me and see if I can’t make this make cents.
(Or is it scents? How many dollars for a pack of incense? None this makes any sense...)
Now normally, I work from a philosophy that says the most logical place to start a story is at the beginning, because that’s where the story starts. Makes scents, right? Okay well I can’t do that here because I already started at the end. That means I gotta offset that endingness that’s right here at the beginning and start the story out BEFORE the beginning.
So before I even wrote this memoir I wrote a fugton of other memoirs and most of the backstory is in those. Don’t waste time on those for now if you missed ‘em. The important details are I know two supersoldiers from the future who are codenamed “Luke” and “Shitbag McDouchernose”. Shitbag McDouchernose is also called my Best Friend, Larry but I invented codenames for this memoir months ago and I like referring to Larry as “Shitbag” because the dude is a shitbag.
(I trash you ‘cause I love you, muh dude)
To truly understand what happened at Waterworks during “The Waterworks Fiasco” you need to understand WHY we were at Waterworks to begin with, which means knowing how the plan was formulated to begin with. So, Luke knew a wizard named CODENAME: Yugoslavian Anthony. Bulgarian Benny had a consistent access to a magical fungus, and he also knew a dude I never met Unknown Chemist and that guy used wizard magic to make LSD. Luke, Shitbag, and I used to use Demon Magic to get Ukrainian Andy to give us these magical substances that those in the scientific community call “Psychedelic Durgs”
(Durgs, right? Like cause they turn people Durgons? Dragons? No that’d be Drags…)
One day Shitbag and I had eaten some of the magical fungus and took a trip to Peking, Everywhere (Not Peaking, China). While we were all zooted up and planewalking in the other realm, the MagicBox Named T.V. showed us a mystical vision of a cinema production called “Across the Universe” which was a musical tale told with visuals that were all songs that were covered by an underground rap-rock fusion group from prehistory called “The Beadles”. When we saw the musics on the Telecube we both instantly knew what had to happen:
The three of us had to eat a fuckton of drugs and then absorb the beauty of the covered Beatles while riding a dragon to Valhalla as our minds melted into everynothingness.
(Luke wasn’t there at the time. Derek was instead. We brought Luke for the Dorgin ride to Elysia though)
Oh shit… I just realized all this is gibberish. Lemme translate for folks who don’t speak nonsense gibbertalk babyspeak:
Larry and I saw a commercial for a movie called “Across the Universe” that was a bunch Beatles covers set to trippy visuals, and felt compelled to eat a bunch of drugs then go see it in theatres tripping balls. We invited Luke along since he was the one getting the acid.
(For realzie doe, learn gibbernonsense tho. Paes2bflooint)
So two weeks after the visionbox told us we had to take a trip to Valhalla on the back of Falcor the magic luck dragon, I bought 16 hits of acid from Luke and the two of us hopped in my magical gold Ford Escort ZX2 and headed from an undisclosed location (Berea, OH) to Shitbags secret lair in Cuyahoga Falls to pick-up McDouchernose-Supreme. I took 8 hits of LSD, gave Larry 8 hits, and Luke took 8 hits then we headed to the movie theatre.
As we pulled up to the movie theatre, I remember thinking everything seemed kinda… different…~ish… more italicized…
More spirity. Kinda spooky but not in the scary way. Vaguely like the back of a magical lucky dragon named Phaallkor bound for Narnia, but not quite. We smoked some of the magic pots Luke had sold me with the pH 7+ lysergic derivative and bought our tickets to the show and waited for our taxi to the otherside. In retrospect, we probably shoulda timed dropping the acidic psychedelics a little sooner because we were sitting down watching long before any of us tripped and fell into “Peaking: The Most Obscure Callback To Another One of My Essays In This Memoir Everyplace”
The movie was good. Like I just said, we were still coming up for a good 45 minutes in the beginning of it so a lot really good visuals got completely wasted on people who weren’t completely wasted. Across the universe is a story a boy who falls in love with a girl, and that boy’s friendship with a dude who’s that girls brother as the three of traversed the whirlwind that was 60’s and 70’s as the time period devolved into an acid flashback filled with pop culture references and Beetle mimics.
About an hour into the trip, the movie theatres screen turned into the sky and I was suddenly in awe as the most peaceful music started to play. As I watched the clouds float across the sky and listen to a cover of “Dear Prudence” I came to a realization:
Peaking is right here. Right now. All the time and everywhere. That meant it was right and right then too. That’s why they call it “The Trippiest Place In Your Current Locations Everywhere!”. I finally understood the city’s motto. It’s an experience, and it was an experience I was experiencing while I experienced a trip movie.
As the music filled my soul, I felt like Albus Hoffledoor riding a magical bicycle. I Al Huckslee braving a whole new world like Aladdin on a magic carpet ride on the back of Puff the Magic Dragon as he carried me to the top of Mt.Olympus. All that vague different…~ishness had suddenly condensed into one solid piece that the universe used to throw 99 MPH fastball that cracked me on the side of the head and send me to another plane of existence. I’d reached the mountaintop, and there at the peak of Mt. Saint Sweet-Jesus-What-The-Fuck-Is-Happening-Right-Now I found the truth of the world. What was that truth you ask? Simple friendo…
I was tripping balls.
I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what happened to that nameless boy, his best friend named “girl’s brother”, or that guy’s sister “girl that boy fell in love with”. I’m not even sure those are their correct names. The movie devolved into a whirlwind of 60’s and 70’s set to Fab Four covers and trippy visuals as I did my best to stay on the dragon Smaug’s back while it took me to Azeroth. I know the movie was fucking awesome though, and I was tripping harder than I ever had in my life up to this point.
As the movie ended, we were confronted with a problem: How was I supposed to drive my motor vehicle while riding a dragon to a mythical realm? We sat there and smoke the arcane kitchenware Luke had sold me earlier before I figured it out. If I put my keys in the ignition, turned them, and then did my best to pretend I wasn’t tripping balls, we could make it back to Assface McDickhead-Superb’s secret hideout. This was an example of a thing you should never do while taking drugs, and I’m lucky the planning error didn’t kill all three of us or our buzzes.
Back at Shitbag McHisRealNameIsLarry-HyphenatedName’s hideout, the three of us started listening to music and talking about how fuggin’ awesome the movie was. However, Shitbag’s secret hideout also doubled as his Mom’s garage where he and I kept a couch for smoking pottery on, and we begin to feel trapped indoors by all the walls the garage had. We decided we’d take a walk. We didn’t know where we’d walk at the time, and so we didn’t know when we’d get there, but we knew we were walking somewhere because the three of us set out into the night to enjoy all the Mother Nature that the northern Summit County suburbs had to offer.
It was a blast. We’d walk, we’d talk, then we’d stand, then we’d smoke flowers that society called weeds, then we’d walk WHILE we stood and talked all at once. The first signs that I was gonna fuck up everything came during this phase of the expedition. We stopped at a park bench to smoke a plant laced with natural cannabinoids, and Shitbag told us the story of how is mom almost named him “Prudence” after the Beatles song “Dear Prudence”. We were trading stories of when we each realized we’d been in Peaking all along, and obviously since mine arrival at the mountaintop was during the “Dear Prudence” cover, Larry McShitbag-Douchernose’s revelation was relevant.
We all cracked some jokes. I said Prudence was a girls name, and Shitbag McNotPrudence-ForRealz said he coulda made it gangster. He’d just shorten it to something like “Dence” so it woulda seem so girly. This joke was hilarious. Way more hilarious than I’m making it seem right now. To this day, when the three of us look back on this night, we recite the tagline that goes with it, “I’M DENNNCCCE!!!” which we also shouted at random intervals throughout the night. Shortly after coining the phrase, I remember being filled with dread. I turned to my supersoldier companions and asked:
“Yo, what if the police come?”
The two superwarriors from a time period that comes after right now chronologically both attempted to reassure me by saying, “Umm… nothing. They’ll run our names then tell us to move along. At the most they’ll say no being in the parks after dark.” I had trouble accepting this explanation, but the three of us continued on our journey completely unaware that we were actually heading to Waterworks so I could have the story I told in my memoir “The Waterworks Fiasco”
Next, we happened upon an elementary school that had a public art display up. There was a large overhang held up by concrete pillars that was wrapped up in strings of all different colors. I’m having trouble making it make sense. Here’s a picture:
Now, the one we saw was outdoors and wrapped around a bunch of concrete pillars, but that’s the basic idea. We played with the magic string for a bit and then continued on our way.
Eventually we found ourselves the Metroparks behind a water park named Waterworks, which got it’s name from my legendary tale “The Waterworks Fiasco”. I don’t know if you guys have ever ridden on the back of a mythical beast into a spirit realm while walking through the Ohio Metroparks after midnight, but the experience was glorious. The connection we all felt with nature while talking about music, beetles, and our trip to Peaking made me feel as if all things were one things and none of us could stop making jokes that were a callback reference to earlier in this memoir.
At one point, we happened upon a small pond and it’s pristine beauty left us speechless. We stood in awe for a second as we took in the sight. I remember staring at the smooth black water contemplating the moon’s reflection stored within the surface as I watched the clouds move across the pond. I remember saying “It looks like a solid piece of glass. Like I could walk out to the middle and touch the moon right now...”
Luke laughed “Well why don’t you then?” He raised a good point, but I’m not hispanic so I can’t walk on water.
(Because Jesus is a Spanish name. Racial Humor!)
We moved along…
Next, we came across ancient ruins where parents often bring their children to play. Because of how these constructs of the ancients are used these days, we named the ruins “a playground”. This place was fuggin’ awesome. There was a system of underground pipes that we could talk into, and then the message would echo through the pipes and come out an exit on the other side of the ruins. The whole time Beatles music transmitted using radio waves from the ether was swarming my brain.
Inside the ruins, there was a magic panel made from little squares. The little squares were on metal rods, each rod had about 10 squares on it. The rods were then placed side-by-side to form a 2’x2 big square. The little squares were black on one side, white on the other, and that made it so you could spin them around and use them to make the big square into a black and white picture. First I went and made a checkerboard. Suddenly, Larry had an idea…
“Hold up dudes… I’ve got an idea…” said the shitbag, “I’m gonna make it say something…”
That shit was hilarious. We laughed and moved along while we discussed the children who would find Shitnose’s artwork and forever be plagued with the existential question that haunts us all, “Who the fuck is ‘Dence’?”
Again, I was stricken with paranoia over local security forces discovering our location, and again my supersoldier brothers-in-arms attempted to reassure me. “Dude stop fucking worrying about it, you’re gonna do something stupid and get is in trouble.” At the time though, I didn’t understand how foreshadowing worked as a literary tool…
We happened upon another ancient ruin, only this one was built on sand instead of wood chips. The sand led Luke to an epiphany: ”HOLY SHIT DUDE LOOK AT THE SAND!!!”
He was right. Drawing patterns in the sand made of castles made of sand was fuggin’ awesome. Then it started started to rain, so the three of us headed for a nearby pavilion before we fell into the sea. While we waited for the rain to stop we smoked drugs, specifically, cannabis. It was dope. Luke sold it to me. He called it kitchenware though.
Eventually we didn’t fall in the sea though. The wind cried “Mary” a lot and baby couldn’t light my fire. These days, looking back on it all, I can clearly see the reason that Mother Nature kept blowing out our lighters while we tried smoke tweeds was so that I could make a Hendrix reference and a Door’s reference in the same sentence, Jim and Jimi made one. We did it guys. We won classic rock. Mission accomplished. We can all go home.
However, at the time the three us weren’t aware that we’d won classic rock, so when the rain stopped we didn’t immediately teleport to Shitbag’s garage. Instead we made a crucial mistake and attempted to cross the street back the ruins of the playground with magical sand. This is when shit hit the fan. As we crossed the street, an officer of the law happened upon us. Every nightmare I’d ever dreamt was coming true as the worst things my mind could imagine all coalesced into reality. I knew my freedom was in jeopardy, I just knew it. I felt like there was only one option:
Fuck-up massively and ruin this magic night for all three of us by trying to run.
And there you have it. You now know how I ended up running from the cops tripping balls on 8 hits of acid in the Metroparks in my epic legendary tale “The Waterworks Fiasco”. Since I’m lazy, I’m just copypaste the rest of the story from “Well… That Was Definitely An Experience” because this was definitely an experience. That underlined thing is a link. Everything underlined is always a link. If you’re reading this on Facebook it’s not underlined, so that doesn’t make sense. You’re supposed to be reading from https://www.sometotallosers.com/thelife/waterworks though.
Thanks for reading muh dudes.
That’s the story for this week, brought to you by Dirty Dave the Demon King, Time-Traveling Supersoldier From The Past and Eventually The Future, Buddhist Zen Daoist Grand Wizard-Shaman of the East and High Mage of House Puffinstuff.
(I’ve really really gotta do something about this imaginary title growing… here’s the rest of the story…)
I was running on the edge of the road scared shitless when I had a genius thought: “Don’t run on the road, stupid! Cars drive on roads!” I ran into the clearing I was alongside, towards a nearby pavilion. I'd forgotten crucial information: Cars also drive on grass. The cop clipped my hip going about 10 mph, hopped out of the cruiser, dropped all his weight onto my back, and cuffed me.
It'd been raining on and off all night and my body got pressed into mud while he cuffed me; then he pulled me over to the pavilion and started interrogating. I told him hold on let me catch my breath.Only if I had I.D. and I bought a second to breathe for the price of one Ohio driver's license.
Luke and Shitbag McDouchernose-Supreme were gone at this point and I'd honestly forgotten them. I was sittin' a bench/table combos parks have under with my back leaned against table, starin' at the ground. The pattern in the concrete was incredibly vivid and it pulsed with my pounding heart. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins as I retraced my steps tryin' to remember where I was.
Suddenly out of nowhere I hear, “Hey… My bad… I’m with this guy... He’s my ride. I don’t know where I am right now. All I know is it’s a 45 minute drive. Here’s my I.D.” and then Luke plops down on the bench next to me. The cop just wanted to know why we ran and who the other dude was. I kept givin’ him the first name “Shitbag” but I swore I didn’t know his last name. Luke said he didn’t know anymore than I did.
Eventually the cop called Luke’s parents. It was just before his 18th birthday and he was still technically a minor, so this was a curfew problem mostly. They said Luke wouldn’t be in trouble as long as he headed directly home. The cop decided to lemme go too since I was Luke’s transportation. I couldn't believe I wasn’t heading to jail. I'd never walked away from a police encounter that blasted out of my mind; my adrenaline was still pumping. I could still see my heartbeat in all the patterns in my view.
I let out a sigh of relief as he uncuffed me, and as the cop's uncuffing Luke he says, “You know if you hadn’t run I’d probably just tell you that you’re not allowed in the park after dark?” I felt like such a fuckwit 'cause Shitbag and Luke both told me those exact words over and over that night. I should've listened to when cooler heads told me to chill.
As me and Luke start walking towards my car the cop yells out:
“Oh ya, Just for my report: What was Shitbag’s last name again?”
So I answered, “McDouchernose-Supreme.”
“HAH! I knew you knew it… Alright, I got it from there; have a nice night!”
Homeboy straight Jedi mind-tricked me. I couldn't fuggin' believe it.
Shitbag ended up getting a trespassing charge 'cause I was weak in the ways of the force. He still busts my balls over it to this day.
I fuggin’ love "Shitbag", though. I gave him that pseudonym instead of something boring like "Barry" or "Tom" purely out of love for the dude. Really, I’ve gotten permission to call him Larry in the time after I originally wrote this, but I like calling him Shitbag. He may be the most supreme shitbag I’ve ever met, but I couldn't picture my life without him. He’s been my best friend forever; 15 years now runnin'. Through it all he’s stood with my dumb ass and gotten dragged in on lots of unnecessary bullshit (Like the time he caught a trespassing charge from the Waterworks fiasco, for example). He's more my brother than my real older brother.
Luke is the fuggin' man too. We've had some really wild times, and he's helped me through a whole metric fuckton, especially after my Dad passed away. He's one of the few people who genuinely cared about me that stuck around during the darkest chapter of my life.
Both these dudes are motherfuggin' legends.
Trust your friends, kiddos, especially when your friends are a supersoldiers from the future sent back in time to beat asses, get pussy, and do drugs but only pot and psychedelics cause supersoldiers from the future know the cool drugs.
Hope you had a nice trip!