A Disheveled Party at 711
So, tonight there was a party at my house here at school. And there was this douchebag in an orange shirt that I thought was pocketing a spoon from us. Like, he was also checking if there were any open doors he could get into. Sort of really sketch (dog go go go). I have, therefore, given it some thought that I would like to share. It turned out it was no big deal.
The theme was "Afterparty," so you come dressed up like you were just at a big party, and this is the after party... get it?
Junk Mail, spam, has now become something similar to some guy with no business trying to live in the same society as me knocking on my door, asking for Roja and offfering to increase the girth of my genitals through p3rSciTPion DR0gz. And these are the orange polo shirt jerks. You can clean up after them, but it is just work, just like cleaning out your junk mail.
Another thing I have learned, that when I am greatest member of authority, I have no fun. When I have to make sure that other people are acting in accordance that they don't kill themselves (at camp, or when people are doing keg stands in my kitchen who have no idea who I, or anyone in my house, are).
I dislike parties. I really, just, you know, I would rather have a bunch of people who I know hanging out, or just friends of my rooommates hanging out and having a fun time playing beer pong (which I don't partake in for the obvious reason I don't like to drink). The thing is, when the lights get turned off, people get way too drunk, and people who are just all together random come walking through my place that have no interest in living a righteous lifestyle in any shape or form.
The Following Was Writting after Devan knocked on my door and called me to come downstairs and sing with him So, the rain was coming down, but I sat with Devan in the really really nice for this time of year 41 degree weather and sang. Now, for those of you who don't know, and this is not boasting, I have been told I have an amazing singing voice. I am also, surprisingly, well versed in the art of making stuff up that makes no sense, improvising if you will, on the spot.
So, I'm out there with Devan, and there are about 4 other people there, and we start off with an nice old standard called "Two Ladies and a Douchebag." "Two Ladies..." is the chorus, and then in between I improvise lyrics as Devan plays. So, we play this, and this one girl is stunned by my voice. She asks if I do anything on campus in terms of singing and is astonished when I say "no." I have to stress, I really don't like boasting, but in this respect I must. I mean, singing is easy, you don't have to move much, and it comes really easy to me. I am not off key with making stuff up, I understand rhythm. So, we did two more songs, "Canyon Dave," and "My Hoverboard," which were all made up on spot.
And now it is almost 5 AM, which is very upsetting, I don't like to get to bed after 3 AM at the latest, just not to mess up my schedule of sleep, but sometimes it must happen. Getting some praise from people made the whole night of loud noises and everything feel better. I have also discovered another secret power of my voice that I will discuss later....