The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that a once-a-month loft party in “East Williamsburg” was not in fact HELL ON EARTH. Yes, if you want to find out where uber-hipsters go when their souls leave their self-righteous emaciated little bodies, hit this party off. What you will find is a carnival like funhouse with three floors of sweaty, overly thrift-store-dressed hobos all desperately searching for cigarettes that nobody has. That’s right, in hell, everyone smokes but nobody has cigarettes except for that creepy dude making shadow puppets in front of the projector showing obscure performance art, and that creep only smokes Merit Ultra Light 100’s so it’s like your sipping Oxygen out of a long broken straw, and the BBQ girl is disgustingly fat and sweaty, and the hot dogs cost 2 bills, but you only have a buck fifty, and when a girl asks you what time it is you say 5:00 AM and she says in the most detached way ever, “I’ve been here for 7 hours,” and you feel too bad to tell her that she has ETERNITY more hours to go, and you realize that there is not one attractive person in the party except for the French girl who’s so effin crazy you forget the fact that her ass cheeks are hanging out of her silly little 80’s style mini-skirt. And you understand that it's not the unattractiveness that bothers you, but the combo of grossly sweaty, rude, and unattractive that brings to mind only one word……unfortunate. And then you wake up with a sick headache, stumble to the corner store where you hear churchbells coming from Riverside Church, but the bells sound oddly like that song I Will Survive. And you don’t know what’s worse, that Christ is hurting so bad he needs to resort to that shitty female mantra, or the fact that you have that song in your head.
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that a once-a-month loft party in “East Williamsburg” was not in fact HELL ON EARTH. Yes, if you want to find out where uber-hipsters go when their souls leave their self-righteous emaciated little bodies, hit this party off. What you will find is a carnival like funhouse with three floors of sweaty, overly thrift-store-dressed hobos all desperately searching for cigarettes that nobody has. That’s right, in hell, everyone smokes but nobody has cigarettes except for that creepy dude making shadow puppets in front of the projector showing obscure performance art, and that creep only smokes Merit Ultra Light 100’s so it’s like your sipping Oxygen out of a long broken straw, and the BBQ girl is disgustingly fat and sweaty, and the hot dogs cost 2 bills, but you only have a buck fifty, and when a girl asks you what time it is you say 5:00 AM and she says in the most detached way ever, “I’ve been here for 7 hours,” and you feel too bad to tell her that she has ETERNITY more hours to go, and you realize that there is not one attractive person in the party except for the French girl who’s so effin crazy you forget the fact that her ass cheeks are hanging out of her silly little 80’s style mini-skirt. And you understand that it's not the unattractiveness that bothers you, but the combo of grossly sweaty, rude, and unattractive that brings to mind only one word……unfortunate. And then you wake up with a sick headache, stumble to the corner store where you hear churchbells coming from Riverside Church, but the bells sound oddly like that song I Will Survive. And you don’t know what’s worse, that Christ is hurting so bad he needs to resort to that shitty female mantra, or the fact that you have that song in your head.
6 Comments:
utterly fuckin' amazin'!!!
joe thought the party was "awesome."
hahahahahahaaaaaa
No Hobo
Your site is on top of my favourites - Great work I like it.
»
I like it! Good job. Go on.
»
Post a Comment
<< Home