Intro to my subculture

I returned to my house stumbling and shirtless at 3:30 in the morning. I was already feeling the affects of the hangover soon to come. My elbows were cut, my face was scraped, and my bones were bruised. I was still a little high, my head was ringing, and I could easily spot the bits of vomit on my mud-caked Nikes. I reached into my pocket and pulled out seventy dollars less than I began the day with along with a ticket for a disorderly conduct that conveniently ended in an out of state fee of 400 dollars. I popped a few Aspirin, brushed my teeth, layed down on my bed and imagined myself back in the middle of the mosh pit. The concert kicked my ass, and I loved every minute of it.