PIAB is headed to a BBQ/drinkathon in Charm City tomorrow. We missed last year’s version of this same shindig for a variety of reasons, one being that it happened to fall on the same date as party we threw. (Two being: I can’t remember if we were actually invited.) Anyways, we’ve stopped being so foolish as to throw parties, because we simply can’t compete. Also because doing so involves cleaning our house, which hasn’t seen a vacuum since February. I know, we’re disgusting.
More on this party: It was by all accounts a simultaneously beautiful and terrifying event in ’05, involving:
1. The hostess being locked in her own bedroom by 8 PM (and by “locked” I mean other drunk people tied a barrier constructed of Nintendo controllers across the stairway bannister so she “wouldn’t fall down the stairs and hurt herself”)
2. Attendees waking up the following morning under the coffee table, surrounded by empty bottles of vodka and the lyrics to Peter Cetera’s “Karate Kid” theme song (incorrectly) scribbled on a cocktail napkin
3. Obscene baked goods (maybe?? someone back me up on this??)
4. The mysterious squatter. Wait for it.....wait for it......... that’s right. Someone pooped in a potted plant.
If I got any of these details wrong, please feel free to correct me. Anyways, if it’s as half as hilariously obnoxious as the tales from last year tend to skew, I am psyched. Also, people from Chicago will be there, and it’s already been determined, even this early into the summer season, that Chicago people, while the best people, aren't usually good for anything but trying to kill me. So, if I 'm not around come Monday, it’s been real, Internets.
The G: I need to think of something fun to bring to the festivities.
TR: I dunno, a 5-gallon tub of mayo? Guns?