Couch Bandits

Continued from last post

Fireplace Chat
i'm sure all my readers (all three of them) are feeling the paralyzing grip of suspense. And yet, i am going to attempt to keep you there... read on:

Story
9:30pm: After consuming a round of beers via the card game asshole we headed out to a costume party. I didn’t actually find this information out until I got into the car. My perceptions told me so because the two girls in the car were both beer maids. One of them looked like St. Paul’s girl and the other looked like a straight up skank who would end up getting me a lot of beer; therefore, she must have been a beer maiden. It took two cars to ship our people to the costume party, but when we got there I noticed that it would only take two more to move the entire party including guests already attending. A.k.a. this party was lame. I don’t think I have ever been to a weirder party in my life. One of the guys, dressed as a deusbag, asked me on more than one occasion for money for pot. I felt like I was walking down San Francisco at night, but the bum knew me, so he could spare me the bullshit. I told him I had no money, he then asked Nick, Tyler and I for weed, coke, booze and LSD! I don’t go to many get together parties when I don’t know the people, because of shit like this. However, it was interesting none the less. I consumed some more beer during this joke of a party, so it wasn’t a total loss of time and mind. As soon as Paul (neighbor/friend/Iraqi war vet) told me it was time to bounce, I didn’t say goodbye to anyone I had met, I didn’t even flinch to look back, because I know if I had stalled I might be left there. This brings us to principle number three: When a friend is serious about leaving its time to leave. This rule can only be broken under circumstances of sex and despotism.

11:00pm: We arrive at party two, and the moment I step out the car I know it’s a better party for the sole fact that none of the people at this present party were people I had just previously met (oh yeah, did I tell you their apt. stunk like big foots dick). This new party was popping. It was a girl’s birthday, she had lots of booze. She had aged whisky, beer, wine… you name it, I could have drank it. But I had to have whisky on the rocks, a timeless drink, especially cuz this cute girl who looked like velma from Scooby do was pouring me a glass. My first impression of her was that I wanted to solve a mystery and then bone while thinking about justice. But I knew my oddly animalistic and moral instincts had to subside, so we talked for a while.
She asked me why I drank. An odd question I thought, I asked her why she drank. She told me she wanted to forget the sober day behind her even though the intoxicant didn’t help a bit. She replied so quickly, I drew two conclusions. First, I knew she was telling the truth, and second, her personality was false, she was really dumb and desperate like any fake blond plastic doll [note, you may find plastics not so desperate, but the way one makes oneself (fake hot) is desperate to me]. But, I’m in sarcastic state, so I replied with “To hit on girls who look like velma from Scooby do.”
She didn’t understand what I meant by that. At that point, even her dark rimmed glasses and quirky demeanor couldn’t fake smarts. She was a hack, a fake, a con artist. She didn’t know anymore than the dumb blond across the room, which scared me. Maybe I should try for someone way way outside my league, and lose the hot but overly begging crime solving mistress. I was unsure of myself yet again, and worst of all my stereotyping radar was striking out.
I told her she scared the shit out of me after I kissed her softly. Then I exited stage right. I left her attention to steal as much food, booze and pumpkin insides as I could humanly possible. After a couple hours, Tyler had stolen a hat and he was “tired of it.” In applying principles one and three we fled, but like events to be explained later, unspoken forced broke up our stealing brigade. The dude who’s Tyler stole from came out with tyler’s sunglasses and wanted to trade for his hat. To this day, nobody knows how he got his glasses, or even how he knew Tyler left (since we existed out the back).