The Enebriated Chronicles of Bra-less Debachery and Bloody Lips.

So one of her favorite aunts flys into town to mix business with pleasure.

Some well-deserved tailgating was in order.

To put it mildly, the majority of the people in Smokey Jane's family could appreciate a good time.

 Naturally since the B.E.T. Awards and the Sweet Auburn Festival are around the same time this month, it was quite possible to assume that somebody's weekend was sure to be an oblivious hellbox of drunken rituals and Hickory BBQ-scented shits all the way through to the 4th quarter of the last football game on Sunday.

It has been quite some time since the ever-reclusive Smokey Jane has let her girl-balls hang out, so she gladly agrees to be forced upon her reluctant relative for a night-on-the-town.

Poor relative of Smokey Jane.

She can easy vamp-back into the days of yore with her wild niece and cringe at the teamwork of mayhem and grassy-assed embarressment.

Together, they both knew what the unchanging result of releasing a hedonist wildchild out into the streets of Atlanta with seven-inch stillettos and a credit card.

Say farewell to the last shred of religious decency we dare to call society.

Smokey Jane brings out the first round of drinks from the kitchen.
 (Why make a slow start, I presume.)
 They clink glasses together in agreement to nothing in particular and begin to discuss the unwritten itinerary.

First a ride through town in the back of a chaffeur-driven Maybach where Smokey-Jane proceeds to carefuuly pull out a peace pipe from her enormous and furry hoe-bag.

Hoe bag
[ Hoh-bag]
noun.
    1. an enormous version of a women's purse that can hold a wide variety of goods allowing the owner the freedom of convienient housing options  for the weekend.


  This particular bong is a comedy favorite of our pervertedly-humourous and psychedelic Goddess, for the bowl pack is carved right in the center of an erect penis and testicle set made of glass.

(She cleverly calls it her Dong Bong.)

 Out pops her laptop which fits neatly onto her fishnet-decorated lap .
She carefully pulls out a fairly large plastic bag about the size of a plum to which held within it an ample portion of White Widow and proceeds to continuously repack while discussing the philosophies of medical marijuana as they zig-zag through the heavy traffic along Ponce De Leon.

They arrive fashionably on-time, busting through the plush decor and plastic greetings to their reserved center-stage table where they could easily catch the sweat glistening from another epic performance by one of her blues singer friends in Little Five Points.

After an amazing first set filled with heavy dancing and continuous rounds of Scotch, the ladies wait for the fellow entertainer so as to personally roll her a well-deserved joint of high-grade Kush before heading out to another club in Decatur.

This well-know lesbian city is  alive  with traffic and cigarette smoke.
 They are escorted  from the vehicle into a venue known for a fun night of Open-Mic.

Smokey Jane, who has by now stripped free of her bra begins to dance a
 beeline to the center bar...all eyes on her bubbly boobs and credit card moves.

  She takes off her glasses when the drinks arrive and dances erotically with her aunt, teasing the crowd and diverting their attention from the house entertainment.

Shot glasses clink together as they pause between the rhythm to toss the Scotch down with an easy flick of the wrist.

Smokey Jane pulls a middle-aged Korean businessman from his chair next to hers and proceeds to dance with him. The man is clearly alone as his face lights up in awestruck horniness as she rubs her slinky body around his beergut while the equally-drunken crowd begins to cheer the odd couple on.

She wakes up on an unfamiliar bathroom floor as the light above the sink casts a shadow of what could pass for a crime scene before her.

It's 3:04a.m. according to her shit-covered Blackberry lying by the toilet above her.
She manages to stand and assess the damages in the mirror.

A busted lip.
No glasses.
No wallet.
Muddy heels.
Shitty jeans.

She checks her implants to make sure they're still in place and runs a luke-warm bath.

TO BE CONTINUED.