“You should stand up! It changes everything! Come on, stand up!”, overheard at Slayers Club’s bass whomp performance in a swank lounge-fitted biodiesel school bus.

Matt Haze, Manitous, and Freddie Future hit the decks kamikaze-style. In the frenzy of tight curves and mixing beats, butt presses and “excuse me”s became “wutever it’s a party!!”

With over 35 of us, we were a multi-dimensional balancing act with drinks and bass, surfing and flying through the San Francisco night. Rest stops in Treasure Island and the eastern waterfront, reminiscent of illegal urban outlaws as I watched angels give life to abandoned industrial playgrounds. Somewhere between lap dance orgies and the search for a modest enough place to pee, a sense of tranquility bestowed upon me.. and I wished it upon everyone I knew who couldn’t be there.

You missed out. =P

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