It ain’t a party till the cops come, or at least that’s what my dad told me. He seems to be an expert on such things. Being that he’s at least vaguely Irish I’m not sure there’s much he couldn’t tell me. I do however have full confidence that my daddy could take your daddy any day of the week, but I digress.

I don’t go to parties anymore. It’s too much effort trying to pick my friends back up from under the table. I’d stay for the music if there was any, but it’s just beep and bloops being blared at flight deck volume. I’d rather not go than complain about it. Let the people have what they want, I can throw my own party and get what I want whenever I feel like it. Of course, I want to listen to Oingo Boingo records while squatting in my living room, but that can be a party too.