Happy Juice.

Maybe it's the composition of my body and how it reacts to the un-sobering elements, but I don't find drinking to be that enthralling. I assume since it brings out the inner most thoughts and feelings - like that of a truth serum, only tastier - that the night will only carry how you are truly feeling. And if you are feeling grumpy because the party is filled with failure, drinking probably won't make it that much better. Maybe for me anyway.

I am not a fan of the generic party set up: drinking, stupid people with nothing but standing around sipping syrup. But I decided that I'd once partake in an event, just out of curiousness and the fact that I would be staying the night. I wish I hadn't.

First of all, bros were invited. Not the cool guy bros. Oh, I wasn't fortunate to have those attend. What I got instead was the party hopping, worthless flesh bags that populate every bad party. Lucky me, I got two of them at this party. Unlucky them, they talked shit about my friend and I. We will get back to that later.

The second piece of this torrid night came from one of my friends' continuous stream of downing alcohol. His tolerance was low for this night, and thus later lead to puking. More on that later.

Third was the lack of vagina. Anyone knows that parties are ten times better when there is a larger girl to guy ratio. This one was a sausage sword fighting festival that I didn't want participate in.

Fourth came from my overall attitude towards that entire day. A week of being sick, unhappy, and generally a grumpy man simply does not make for an all around good mood. Continuous chains of events that transpired didn't help that at all.

A good portion of the motivation to attend this party came from the prospect of my band playing. Our very first show. Canceled. Which was fine at first, but as that night grew regret since the party was mostly dull and that could have given spice. Speaking of music, that was crap. The musical jam derailed from awesome music to tunes that only a drunk girl could sing horribly to and still enjoy herself. The music list created was soon changed to something horrifying and ear raping. I stayed away from this area because of this.

My first drinks were something of rum and apple cider. Apparently from that and a few other things I drank, people believed me drunk. I wasn't. Buzzed is a more appropriate, but not 100% accurate word. I was coherent, but since the others were drunk they thought I was just as well off as they were. And drink they did. At least most of them. Nothing else beyond dancing randomly occurred. This was not fun. Nothing happened. Just people drinking a substance.

Around the middle of my night, my friend barfed. Woofed. You know. Contents resembled something of cat puke lay in odd proportions on the floor and couch. Rose, the owner of the fine household, did nothing to clean up the mess and instead thought it better to complain to the party-goers as they did the same. Fitting in is tough work. At one point, she looked at me and asked if had cleaned it up. I snapped at her and walked away. Eventually, a man so wasted he was not to be disgusted conquered the ejected substance happily. He asked for an inspection, which I gave.

He did good.

The night wandered and slowly ticked by, with more people coming in, and the drinking continuing. And more and more people getting obnoxious. Being already irritated at the lack of things to do and the sense lost of the people around me didn't contribute to the good pile. But the night wasn't without good people. Gretchen and I discussed various things as guys creeped on her all night as usual. My friend Erin was decidedly the funniest drunk there: never even approaching the border of annoyance, but gracefully talking in a hilarious, drunken stupor. And before my friend Mike let loose his lunch, he and I bonded.

The night finally ended with a 2 hour long cry fest and Rose throwing up in the toilet, throwing out random compliments. Please, someone inform me how this is suppose to be fun.

Of course, the next day I had a headache. Not from the contents of what I drank, but more of the fact that I'd only gotten 3-4 hours of sleep. Wow, so much fun. That scene can burn for all it's worth.