That was a fun party. No one got too crazy, no one got in trouble, and no one fucked in my parents' room. Couldn't ask for anything more. I suppose I could've gotten laid, but then I'd just be complaining about something that usually doesn't happen anyway.
Editor's Note: Though I am not responsible for what happened, I genuinely feel bad that my friend Sally's car got hit. Some jerkoff bumped her car, left a decent dent, then left without manning up. Sally of course was one of the only people to bring something to the party, blessing us with smores and Jell-O shots. The road to hell is paved with good intentions Sally...I don't know what else to say. Sorry that someone had to be a douche bag.
I was very appreciative to see my friends from home and my friends from college at the party. I found it particularly amusing when my blog came up in conversation, and my friend Rina stated the following. I got pretty drunk, so I don't remember exactly what she said. Here's the paraphrased version:
"I read your blog and I wonder why I'm still friends with you."
Haha. Great stuff. As I've stated before, you're friends with me because I'm a good friend. Granted I shit on women often, but haven't I always? All these blog entries you've read are basically a reiteration of all the things I've said in college. Besides, as I've already written dozens of times, no one laughs when you write nice, romantic shit. You need to be an asshole, because that's what generates the biggest reaction out of people. No, I am not an asshole. On this blog though? Huge asshole.
Editor's Note: This has nothing to do with anything, but I was watching Happy Gilmore last night: "You oughta talk to my neighbor the accountant: Huge ass." Great movie.
The highlight of the night was of course the highly anticipated beer pong match between me and my sister. We had never played beer pong against each other before, and obviously sibling rivalries can get pretty heated. But this match was unlike anything I've ever been a part of. It was magical. It will go down in history as one of the most exciting beer pong matches I have ever played in, and it deserves its own tangent.
Beer Pong Tangent: The teams were me and Danny vs. my sister and Frank. As much as I like Danny and Frank, they are irrelevant to this story because both played terribly.
There was a decent crowd watching the match, and it did not disappoint. The game came down to the wire. It was a test of mental and physical strength. It was a test of composure, of prowess, and all the bragging rights in the world were at stake. My sister is much more competitive than I am, but I knew that I needed to step it up a notch to match her intensity. She's a better athlete than most of my friends, so I knew this would be no easy feat.
Anyone who's reading this knows the rules of beer pong. My sister's team had one cup left to hit and we had two. My sister shot and made the last cup. It was heart-wrenching. It was a game of shit-talking, as it usually is. But this was different. This was my little sister. A big brother cannot lose to his little sister, especially in front of people. It's unnatural, like if cows replaced us on the food chain.
Thankfully Frank missed his shot. Then my teammate missed his. It came down to me. Two cups needed to be hit or else the game was over. There was ice in my veins. I didn't even look at my sister - who undoubtedly knew what was coming - because I was so fixated on the cups. My destiny was in my hands, and my sister was eagerly waiting for me to face this destiny. But not that night. I had one chance and one chance only, and I came through. I sank both cups to send the game into overtime, and the crowd erupted.
See sometimes in sports, a magical aura gets created, which subsequently creates almost a supernatural moment. Anyone who follows sports knows what I mean. This was one of those moments. At that point, the game went into overtime and I ended up making all three cups to win the game. My sister was devastated. I walked up to her at the end of the game, gave her a hug, and said, "I love you more than everyone in this room times a million." She said, "Get the fuck away from me and don't touch me."
Mack said that it should have been on YouTube. He said that he was grateful to have been present to witness what had just transpired. It was a game for the ages, and for once, what should have happened actually happened. Seniority prevailed, and all that is right in the world remained, but I won't say that it wasn't a close call. Good game - but not the kind of 'good game' where you slap someone on the ass after - that's my sister you sick fuck.
So yeah, that was ridiculous. All's well that ends well I guess. I'd like to thank everyone for coming and I hope you all had a good time.
To the person who hit my friend's car: You're a real piece of shit. To the person who was under 21 and didn't admit it to my sister until she left the party: I know who you are, and I don't care if I know your sister. You're a huge fuckin bitch for what you did and I won't forget it.
To make sure this entry doesn't end on a negative note, I'd like to also thank Bob, the hickie recipient from the Jews of the Caribbean blogs. I'm glad you came buddy, regardless of the fact you didn't bring the hot Persian chick. No matter how old you are, it's never easy to show up at a party when you don't know anyone and still have a good time. I will gladly double team that girl with you. I'm not kidding.