I remember the days in my life when all I knew of parties was that you threw one whenever someone had a birthday. Invite some of friends over, have cake and ice cream, open some presents, and play some games. I do not recall at that time seeing people running through the house naked, friends passed out in the hallway, or a kiddie pool filled with Jello. Who could ever hate Jello? For some reason, it appears that there is nothing like a house party to bring together the people of the world. In that regard, it ranks up there with the Olympics, McDonalds, and War Crimes Tribunals.
However, there is nothing else quite like a house party (apparently there are even campus guides at universities covering the matter), especially if you are the one throwing it, which can bring down the value of a house. If you have never thrown one, then you will never know the true elation of finding a window screen ripped apart, discovering mysterious stains on your carpet and walls, and of course the crater left over from the backyard bonfire which includes among many other remnants: broken glass bottles, charred articles of clothing, and that lamp your mother-in-law said would look great in the living room. There is no denying that hindsight would caution you never to throw another house party again. Alas, the weekend is coming and you really don’t feel like going out. So let’s break down the anatomy of throwing a house party. Now remember I didn’t say throwing a “successful” house party, as there is really no true metric to measure success with these things, other than friend feedback the next day. Then again, whoever has the best time wins. But let’s get down to it, shall we?
The plan is simple. Let’s get as many people together with as much alcohol as possible and meet at my place. Well that was pretty easy now wasn’t it? Blog post complete. Credits roll. So let’s say you are planning the party for Saturday night and today is Wednesday. Plenty of time to get everything together that you need. You start calling all your friends a couple days in advance. After I taught you about planning more betterly America you know what you are getting into but still it looks like things will be ok. You make the calls, tell your buddies to invite their buddies, so on and so forth. One of your friends suggests making it a theme party. Wow, great idea mouth breather. A theme party. Nothing brings the troubled masses together quite like a theme party. Because showing up isn’t as fun if you aren’t in some stupid costume. Usually the conversation goes something like, “Dude, Ed, I think it would be cool if we all came dressed up as our favorite character from ‘Lord of the Rings’ oh hell yeah!” After you say no, you immediately slam down the phone wondering why you have friends like that and begin to question their sexual preference. Now reader, I have nothing against stuff like that and I am sure by now you are a Level 56 Beastlord Elf Mage in World of Warcraft, but those kinds of parties are best left at pizza joints, back parking lots of your old high school, and the basement of your mom’s house that you still live in. Loser. But I digress. Back to planning the party. Other than having alcohol, party people want to be entertained. So instead of hiring a creepy clown that seemed quite appropriate for your birthdays as a kid, you gotta have something that provides guests something to gravitate towards.
Kegs work. Why do they work? Keg stands, that’s why kemosabe. Brilliant. Since drinking beer is just so damn boring, let’s grab somebody by their legs, flip them upside down and have them drink beer this way. Better yet, let’s count the seconds out loud so we create an atmosphere of competition. Awesomeness. You now have a gathering or intoxicated people and if there are any guys around that have a pair, they cannot easily dismiss the challenge of “outlasting” someone on a keg stand. Ever try to chug really cold beer? Yeah after a few seconds the numbing effect feels like you are swallowing pieces of frozen North Pole glaciers. But hey, you don’t wanna not do a keg stand. I mean who wants to be known as the dude who was too afraid of doing a keg stand? Probably the same dude who breast fed until he was 14 and an pees his pants every time a good looking girl talks to him. Funny thing is, I bet you know somebody like that. You sir, step away from that mirror let’s not get into too deep thought or reflection here. Your self-esteem is YOUR problem, not mine.
Ok, so the keg is easy entertainment. Along with that, two words can ring through the ears of most party-goers as a call to arms, “SHOT TIME!” Yes yes, lets all ingest some 120 proof elixir of death straight up. As my buddy TJ would say, “I put the penis in happiness!” and I would say shots put the “let’s get fucked up really fast” in the “oh my God, what the hell did I do last night?”. Parties are good at bringing people together, heck that’s the point and honestly why not accelerate things with a few shots of liquid coma together? Well a downside is that if you are like me you have a particular brand or shot you refuse to do. Mine is tequila. I hate you tequila. OH-MY-GOD I hate you so much. I hate you like that old chick on the airplane I wrote about before. I hate tequila so much I would much rather masturbate with a cheese grater than do a shot of it. Actually, there are no words in my lexicon that can justly describe my emotional hatred for tequila. Thus, I could only diminish the power of such an emotion by assigning words to it. If I saw tequila getting gang-raped in a dark back alley, I would join in, high five everyone around me, slap tequila across the face take a dump on its chest and then run off clicking my heels as I jump in the air proclaiming, “Ha ha tequila, that was for all the times you fucked me you sorry sack of shit!”. But of course as soon as I say that, what is the first shot of? Thaaaaat’s right sports fans, my good old Mexican nemesis. I abhor you. Can’t Homeland Security do something to curb the import of such a heinous vomit inducing liquid into these United States? And just like that, the shot is poured. No turning back now. You take the shot. You say something to the effect of, “I just died a little on the inside” or “fuck that shit”. You begin to question if the people at this party are patronizing your existence, how you will get home, and of course how that fat chick you saw earlier somehow just got hotter.
Ok, so it appears planning this party wasn’t so tough and things seem to be going great. Keg stands and shots. All is well in Pleasantville. That is until the unmistakable sound of a glass breaking pierces your ears. But really what did you expect? Alcohol will do that, of course. So, go with plastic. In fact, pad your entire house, tape up the windows as if you were preparing for a hurricane or impending nuclear war, and put the safety thingies in the wall outlets that keep kids from electrocuting themselves. You can never be too cautious. Remember, a hangover will last only until tomorrow, but the calamity that could consume your house and cause irreparable damage, will last much longer.Ok, we covered some party safety. I feel good now. But what else. What else happens when you get drunk dudes and chicks together at a party? Well unless you are hosting the Westminster Guild of Eunuchs there will be some sexy time brewing. Leave your inhibitions at the door and wipe your feet. Everyone, regardless if they deny it or not, is doing some fashion of hook-up math at a party. The selection process goes something like this:
9pm: Hmm there are a couple of pretty good looking chicks here
10pm: I thought she was married, no ring though, oh well
11pm: Wow, her boobs are HUGE…with the lights off that could work
12am: I hate tequila, wait wait is that girl crying? I see joyous opportunity seeping from those tears of sorrow
1am: Her, her, her, and her. Wait, isn’t she 40 or something with herpes to boot? Man, screw it.
2am: You there! Coming out of the bathroom after taking a massive dump, yes, you’ll do just nicely
3am: Grunt, grunt, must have woman
3:05am: Pass out next to her. Will you wakeup in a bed of your own piss and vomit? Ohhh boy who knows! Exciting times fellow countrymen!
Ok so taking the above into account, your place better have some spare rooms, an attic, a broom closet, or a dark area under the coffee table to accommodate these guests and the acts they will inevitably engage in. Oh yeah, you’ll want to Febreeze/Lysol/burn your futon the next morning too chief.
Ok, those are some of the basic party considerations for you. But by all means, use your imagination, some of the best parties I have gone to have involved much of the above. If all else fails, just get a clown you fucking loser. In fact, here is the one you will probably invite for your next sucky party.
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