Posts Tagged ‘parties’

Right now I’m at the craziest Super Bowl party imaginable. It’s so crazy we’re not watching the game and it’s just me at home eating an apple. Nuts, eh? For the sake of nothing and posting something here are two old things I wrote about football. Consider it Super Bowl foreplay.

Quarterbacks (all about why I’m better than Tim Tebow)

High School Football Experiences (all about how I avoided getting raped)


One thing I can never get over is how in every teen movie there is a legendary high school party that takes place. I don’t know about you guys, but my high school days were not filled with parties. One time three of us got together and went to Applebee’s and shared appetizers. That’s the closest I ever got to living a Project X life. But a funny thing happened to me after graduating. I was 20 years old when I was finally invited to an awesome high school party. Today I share with some of those details.

I was invited to this party because I was friends with a loser who happened to have a popular younger brother. The younger brother looked like Zac Efron and Charlie St. Cloud had not come out yet so Zac was still cool. The mother of the house was on vacation and the father was dead. If they didn’t at least try to throw a party it would have been a crime.


(Why does Zac Efron look like a blind person in this picture?)

I was lucky enough to be one of only 6 people my friend invited. He would have invited more, but he was my friend so he wasn’t very cool. Two of the six people he invited were girlfriends or wives of his friends. I felt a little old going to this party until a married father showed up. Suddenly my boyish good-looks shined through and I had no fear of creeping anyone out too much.

I arrived at the party looking as incredibly badass as possible. I had on a killer jacket, a spiked up colorful white Mohawk, and a smile that could make you shit. Instantly as I walked into the house I became the center of attention, probably because I had a ridiculous hairstyle. I actually went pretty unnoticed despite my appearance. I was the second oldest person at the party which made me second in charge if we’re going to do things the Mayan way. The oldest person there was a fat Korean kid. This party was left in the balance of North Korean Dictator Kim Jong Fat or whatever his name is.


(Good thing Chin is a Chinese last name and not a Korean one. Otherwise this poor brat would have been teased a lot for having so many)

The party was cool, I guess. The house wasn’t very big but I would say there were around 150 people in there. The basement was filled with underage kids drinking and playing beer pong. I walked down there for a moment, nodded at a kid I recognized, and then went back upstairs to hang with people I actually knew. I don’t remember drinking much if at all. In fact, I don’t remember a single thing I really did other than turned to people and said “Cool party, huh?” And it was a cool party because things were crowded.

Someone said something about how there was a lack of music playing at the party. My crowning achievement of the night was going over to the computer and putting up a graduation speech video at full volume. High school graduation speeches are simply the most repulsive usage of human language. Nobody much appreciated my joke except for the one kid at the party who I’ve seen practically have sex with his sister. I say practically because they were still wearing pants.


(Sure he finished first in his class but at what cost? His face and never having a conversation with a girl. That was the cost)

Trouble struck when some cool kids who weren’t invited showed up outside. Some 15 year old boys went outside to try to scare them off. This was a party thrown by mostly high school sophomores after-all so the 15 year olds knew more people than anyone. The cool kids who weren’t invited threatened to call the cops and that’s when the shit hit the fan. The party had to end. It had only lasted maybe an hour or two and a hallowed threat caused it all to come crashing down.

The fat Korean kid started to boss everyone around and tell them to leave. The issue with this is 75% of the kids there couldn’t drive yet and the other 25% were pretty drunk. At this point nobody cared. The school was looking for a crashed car to in front of the school as an ominous warning and we thought maybe we could do a good deed and provide them with one.

A few party-goers still would not leave. The mean cool kids came back and were having an argument outside. A pretty girl with really big breasts was looking out the window confused as to what was happening. I told her someone got stabbed with a harpoon and was dying on the lawn. Her response was a simple “Oh no!” If she had any sense she would have said “Who the fuck carries around a harpoon and where do you get one?” Of all the existing stereotypes, pretty high school girls with big breasts are always incredibly dumb.


(Only a girl from my high school would think her classmates would not only own this but carry it around and use it on others)

The Korean kid was trying to get the cool kids to leave. I found a random knife lying on the television and suggested he take it out there and scare them. He knocked some sense into me saying it was dumb to do because that could be seen as a threat. Not to mention, the knife had cake on it. Instead the Korean kid used a baseball bat to scare them off. If you’ve ever watched the Little League World Series you would know the Koreans are pretty good offensively.

Finally everything cleared out. We cleaned up a little bit and talked about how cool it was to have to break up a party and ruin people’s party night. The rest of the night was spent talking about our lives and how we could improve ourselves which seems to me the way every night with friends always ends. Just once I want to hang out with a friend and things not get to the point where I’m lying and saying how great they are.

Tell me about the coolest party you have ever been to. And yes, this was probably the coolest party I have ever been to. Unless you want to count the one where I tried adding some girl on Myspace afterwards and she denied me. That was a fun night until she totally ruined my life.

The scariest thing that can ever happen to a child is to be witness to their parents being brutally murdered in front of them. To be soaked in the blood of the adults who are meant to raise them. The tears that flow from the eyes of the children as the confusion sets in that they will forever be alone. It’s the most terrible thing that can ever happen. The second most terrible thing that could ever happen is having a clown for your birthday.

I never had a clown come over for my birthday. Good. I probably wouldn’t enjoy clowns now as much as I do. Clowns are something I am actually a big fan of. I’m not exactly sure why. I’ve had this fascination with them ever since I can remember. I can’t remember back too far. Probably because a clown did something terrible to me that I now have to block out.

Clowns, by their very definition, are adult males who like dressing as women but hate women’s underwear. That’s how I see it at least. If I ever put out a dictionary, that’s what it will say. I’m the only person I have ever met that is not completely phobic of clowns. It’s a very common fear. Where do I think it comes from? I think it comes from being sane. How could anyone possibly like a clown? They’ve got big red noses, baggy pants, white makeup on. They look everything but human. Unless you count drunk Lindsay Lohan as human. Then that would be a fair comparison.

(Lindsay Lohan is a tramp. And by that I mean a sad clown, not a drug addicted whore)

What would ever draw a man to be a clown? They have such a bad reputation. It’s like someone getting into the radio industry. I have to ask why. It’s a dying medium. Clowns could never work on the radio. They’d work better than a mime, the retarded cousin of the clown, but would not be able to execute anything worthwhile. A clown can do about three things. They can juggle. They can make a balloon animal. They can make a child piss his pants. They also carry around these flowers that squirt water. What douche bags! I guess at this point in history if you’re smelling the flower on the breast of a man in makeup, you deserve whatever it is that shoots out into your eyes.

For a brief time I thought about going to Clown Camp. And by thought about I mean I was at some event at a hotel where they had a bunch of tables promoting different summer camps. The clowns seemed like fun. They run around and squirt water on people. Instead I went to baseball camp. Guess which one I have a better chance at being now, a baseball player or a clown? If you said baseball player then you haven’t seen me field a ground ball.

(My father, Tanner Boyle. He taught me how to play baseball and how to resemble a young member of the Planet of the Apes)

I think clowns though are making a bit of a comeback. Think of every hot chick you ever see online. They always have clown like qualities. They’ll have colorful hair, lots of makeup, pictures of them smiling, pictures of them frowning, and even sometimes you’ll see a hot girl riding a unicycle. Here’s a tip ladies. If you learn to ride a unicycle, you can get any guy you want. The same goes for wearing suspenders. There’s something about admitting how crazy you are that turns us on. The conclusion you can take from this paragraph is that clowns are sexy. Look past the days of “It.” Tim Curry is scary in everything he does. He was a transsexual in the Rocky Horror Picture Show and the mean hotel manager in Home Alone 2. The man is a creep. Don’t let that ruin your opinion of clowns.

(You’ll never eat a Thin Mint ever again without thinking of this)

Now that I’m older I never see clowns. The only time you ever can anymore is at a child’s birthday party. Of course it’s the child of parents who don’t love them. If you have a kid and you’re thinking about getting a clown you probably shouldn’t. Get a cowboy instead. I say that like cowboys are any less gay than clowns. Or get Santa Clause to show up. I don’t care if his birthday is in April, kids love Santa Clause. The only thing he has in common with clowns is the red nose. Santa never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. Trust me, there are plenty of people who he has hurt who did deserve it.

I would like to talk about a topic that we all enjoy, parties. They’re fun, usually contain a lot of drunks, lots of scandalous sex, and there is always a lot of unnecessary drama. Yep, that’s what the political parties of the United States of America are like.

My readers not living in the U.S. or familiar with how the politics here work, this is a brief summary for you. In this country we have every political party you can think of. Communists, Socialists, The Green Party, Libertarians, politicians who believe that other politicians are really reptiles from outer space disguised as humans, and Independents are allowed over here. None of them ever stand a chance at winning and that’s why everybody in my country complains. None of us would ever seriously vote for one of these third parties unless their name is Ron Paul. I never got the Ron Paul buzz. People like him because he “tells it like it is.” I don’t know. Telling it like it is doesn’t necessarily seem like a good thing from a politician. Doing good things for me sounds a whole let better. I like to be blind and think that there is hope for me after all. I don’t want Obama to come out and say “Listen, you grew up in a middle class family. You’re not really that gifted at much of anything. You’ll probably spend the rest of your life working mediocre jobs and hating that you didn’t try harder in school. Sorry. That’s Capitalism.” That’s a truth that I do not want to accept. That’s why I like my politicians like I like socks, dirty. Why do I like my socks dirty? Because when white socks turn black they look like a pair of black shoes. I don’t like wearing shoes. This allows me to wear only socks in public without getting funny looks. Unless someone looks directly at my feet. Then questions arise.

(You know this isn’t a picture I took because I don’t own anything doily)

Foreigners, also take notice, there are two main political parties in the United States. They are called the Republicans and the Democrats. The Republicans are the more conservative group and the Democrats are the more liberal group. That’s when they make their speeches and promises. Once they get elected, they become moderate, but in a way that none of us seem to like. I believe that most people are moderate with their politics. It’s hard to fully agree 100% with anybody on anything. That’s why politics are tricky.

Lets use make up a fake politician. We’ll call him Barack Bush. Say Barack Bush runs on a platform that he will make abortion legal. People who like abortions will be really happy. But then he also thinks that all chocolate products should be allowed. Barack Bush hates chocolate. Loves abortion, but hates chocolate. Now imagine yourself. You consider yourself a liberal. You think a woman has the right to choice what she does with her body. Even more than that you believe that a woman can get an abortion and then go out for chocolate ice cream afterwards. What do you do? Barack Bush’s opponent, George Obama, is very anti-abortion. He thinks that it’s wrong. He wants to outlaw it. But he loves chocolate. He’s going to spend our money on missiles to build chocolate factories all over the country instead. Low calorie, sugar less chocolate too for you health nuts. You’re faced with a serious decision. Do you want abortions or chocolate? The point of all of this is to let you know that you will never be happy with your decision. You have to sacrifice something with politics. In this case it’s the difficulty choice of abortions or chocolate. I know Meryl Streep had a difficulty decision in Sophie’s Choice, but that does not compare to this fictitious decision that you have to make.

(I would have sex with Meryl Streep)

When I was younger, I always figured that the Republicans were the bad guys and the Democrats were the good guys. A lot of young people feel this way. Republicans are old white men. They remind us of Disney villains or the Emperor from Stars Wars. I swear, for the amount of Star Wars references that I make, it’s not even one of my favorite movies. I didn’t even own a VHS of it when I was a boy. I had a copy that was taped when it aired on Cable. I’d have to fast forward through the commercials and have to deal with that awful sound that would come on whenever music would play. I kind of miss that.

Now that I am older and understand politics even less, I don’t see the Republicans as the bad guys. In a way, I see the Democrats as the bad guys. I always kind of relate it back to professional wrestling in a way. Yes, I’m going to mention Star Wars and the WWE. You’d think I’ve never spoken to a female that wasn’t named “Mom” with this banter. Maybe I don’t need to relate it to wrestling after all. No, I won’t. I’m better than that. But think about this. Aren’t the people who are in charge always the bad guys. In wrestling it’s Vince McMahon. He’s always better as a heel. High school had a principal. Principals are always dicks. Even your job. I’m sure it has a boss. Don’t you love to hate that ass-clown? What’s the meaning of all of this? We learn to hate those with authority over us. When Clinton was the president, Rage Against the Machine was raging against the machine! Then Bush came along and a lot of shitty punk bands came along to whine. I hated George Bush at first and by the end I pitied that fool. He was just a guy who did what he thought was right. I don’t think he was out to screw me. He was a name and a face that could be put out in front of us while the Illuminati did what they had to do. Now Obama is in charge and well, he hasn’t made anything better. I wanted to kill myself when Clinton was president, I wanted to kill myself when Bush was president, and I still want to kill myself with Obama as president. What drastic things have really changed between these three very different men? I don’t see it.

(These 4 guys need to calm down and do something more than sound like a louder version of the Beastie Boys if they’re really that angry)

I hate politics and it was painful for me to write about it here. I don’t vote because I’m not informed. I could become more informed, but what would that accomplish? It would stress me out and make me feel guilty when my elected official kills off a certain ethnicity. I’m not really swayed in either direction, Republican or Democrat. I always thought I would be a Democrat but the more I’m around them the more I hate them. Republicans are just boring and stuck-up. I don’t know if I’ve ever even seen one. One time at a Rita’s Water Ice I saw a limo pull up. A large family got out. One of the sons of the family twirled around and said “I love being rich” in a sweet British voice. I assume these people were Republicans. The mother and father in the family smiled at each other. They were making their kids happy. This is why I could never join the dark side, the Republicans. That queer twirling Brit ruined all hopes of me saving the elephant party.

I should probably mention that too. The Republican’s symbol is an elephant while the Democrat’s is a donkey. The story goes that the Democrats are a donkey because Andrew Jackson was a jackass. I don’t know if this is true or not. The same woman who told me that said that Ford’s Theater where Lincoln was shot was in Western Pennsylvania. I believed it then she played Billy Joel for the class. I didn’t learn much that year. My history teachers were never good influences and I blame them. My 11th grade history teacher voted for Condoleeza Rice for president in 2004. He voted for someone who got one more vote than I did. I was months away from being able to vote and the man teaching me about politics was throwing his vote away. All I did that year was get ignored by girls and watch Michael Douglas movies. Jesus Christ high school sounds like my weekends.

(“Stay away from Dupont Circle.” – the running joke in this film. Yuck)

Will I ever vote? Who knows? The Illuminati do but that’s because they have a crystal ball that they ask a lot of questions to for answers. I still think I know more about politics than your average 11-year-old. And really they’re the ones that should be voting. Most of the laws affect them more than they effect a guy living alone in his 20s who doesn’t own much. The best thing I do own is my mind. That’s something that the government, no matter what party can ever control until the year 2016.

Red Cups

Posted: November 5, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

If Jesus had been born in the 1980s, the Holy Grail would be a red cup. Indiana Jones would team up with his father in order to find this red cup. They’d be able to find it much easier too. I don’t think plastic can decompose very well in landfills. The movie would have been 12 minutes. Thank Jesus’s dad that he wasn’t born during the height of Madonna.

Sometimes I’ll buy red cups. They’re big, clumsy, and not very attractive. Most of the people who I see using red cups are big, clumsy, and not very attractive. When they wear red shirts, it looks like a giant red cup holding another smaller red cup. Sort of like a mother holding an infant. It’s cute. And that’s why even though girls holding red cups are annoying, I can still tolerate them due to the fact they remind me of a mama kangaroo with its Joey.

When I use red cups, they’re mostly for milk. I drink a lot of milk. I’ll never get prostate cancer. That’s not that great of a strategy. I’m going to have to get a finger up my butt at some point. Mine as well have prostate cancer if that’s going to happen. I should probably stop drinking so much milk. Drinking milk to help prevent prostate cancer and still getting a finger up your butt is kind of gay. The other people I see with red cups use them for alcohol. I’m not sure why a red cup is necessary for an alcoholic beverage. It’s all too cloak and dagger for me. I like to know what the person standing next to me wearing sunglasses inside is drinking. At least, I want to know the color. I could always hover over the glass, but what if they’re taller than me? Or if they hold their arm up really high like girls do to signify “I’m having fun.” Men never raise their arms when they have fun. Unless they’re going in for a high-five. Then it’s worth it!

I remember once being at a party. It doesn’t matter how long ago or how much of a sausage fest it was. You don’t need to know those facts. What you do need to know, is that one of the whore-make-up-wearing girls there complained that instead of red cups, we had blue cups. This rubbed her the wrong way. Blue must not show up well in pictures that are placed online that will get her fired.