The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
To be a designated driver I drink beer, then do coke to cancel out the beer, then Quaaludes to take the edge off the coke, then PCP to stay awake on the Quaaludes, then more beer to drown out my friends, who are yelling at me to find my clothes and get off the roof because they want to go home.
If an unattractive person somehow gets their hands on forbidden Abercrombie & Fitch merchandise, dodging the lava pits and robot mannequins that throw the ampersands from their A&F T-shirts like shurikens, they'll fall victim to the store's mirrors, which explode if they display unattractive people, shooting shards of glass into the people's faces.
One night in 1989 I showed up to my job at the McDonald’s in Times Square, New York, and the place was filled with gay ravers. They were dressed as gay versions of McDonald’s mascots, like Mac Tonight in Liberace garb and Mayor McCheese with a rainbow sash.
The touchscreen had an interface I didn't understand, and I kept hitting the wrong buttons, flooding the screen with error messages. Each one made the cashier cringe, but told me to keep going. As I fumbled through the menus trying to upgrade my meal he began breathing heavily.
In 1996 I won Fox Kids' Create a Video Game Sweepstakes, a contest where the winner got to work with Sega to design their own video game. As a 13-year-old nerd I would've been thrilled, except that my mom and current dad were getting divorced at the time.