Artists, with enough booze in them, will take any opportunity to do something fun with found objects. In our case last night, it was a deserted cardboard box we stumbled upon in the Fillmore elevator. Acting instinctively, we picked it up from the corner, observed its relatively normal cardboard characteristics, and then proceeded to place it over the head of my roommate Bunny. This of course started a series of entertaining events when Bunny, the most sociable person at our school and perhaps in the entire city of San Francisco, began the commute to our next party with only her head and her legs poking from the top and bottom of her newly-changed fashionable choice of attire. With a sharpie, I wrote "WARNING: CONTENTS HOT." on the outside and watched the laugher ensue as Bunny's social tendencies went along as easy-going as they always do, only this time, with a cardboard box around her.
Throughout the night, the box became more and more an undeniable aspect of our steepened intoxications. At one point, armholes were cut so that beer drinking could continue as necessary. Following, the bottom flap was cut into the shape of a cardboard loin cloth, and the excess pieces were made into a neat hat, which she wore confidently. By the end of the night, the box-wearing babe in the kitchen had inspired us to throw a party in the coming weekend themed simply "box." The term Box could be interpreted anyway the guests pleased or imagined, be it cardboard, vagina, or British sporting lodges, just so long as they had abided by the theme. If nothing else, a houseful of people in boxes would inevitably lead to some good surrealist pictures.