JUST BECAUSE YOU STRANGLE A GAY GUY
we are pleased to publish the winning submission from our contest "HOW TO HAVE THE MOST FREAKTASTIC FRIDAY NIGHT". the following is by an up-and-coming writer in the NYC area who has asked to remain nameless until they have finished the opus that their manuscript will one day be. this is a portion. we truly hope you all enjoy!
JUST BECAUSE YOU STRANGLE A GAY GUY
the first thing you have to do to have the most freaktastic friday night is be so tired from sitting in the park all day (a couple hours spent deciding whether or not to get hustled out of a few bucks in the chess rotonda) that you can not imagine going out. then return one call. return a call to the one who calls you THE PARTY MACHINE. even though the machine has not been turned on, you sense that it is indeed low on fuel but being that it runs off of cencrifugal force/power, you know that it can indeed be put into full gear after a certain amount of banter, wine and redbull. so there you go. now the machine is running. that is step one-- the most important part of the entire equation.
now a note on the one-and-only PARTY MACHINE: the party machine is a force greater than nature. it has been said that if thunder and lightening, or a hurricane per se could drink any of the following: wine, champagne, beer, liquor, sparks, redbull, ect., that those natural disasters, in all of their dynamic force, could still not equal the reckoning power of THE PARTY MACHINE. That said.......
the next thing that you must do is put make-up and heels on while drinking. finish the bottle. have an energy drink just for good measure. now a little tipsy, pay too much to get into a club that you don't quite understand that you don't want to be there. akward-- yes. keep going. now that you are inside a sweaty BO-smelling basement dance club and the dj is spinning Kelis' MILKSHAKE into a techno song get a drink. great. drink it. now get another.
but not so fast, don't just get a drink like any other idiot in the wolrd-- you are THE PARTY MACHINE. get a double. no, of course you don't need it. but who cares. everywhere you go it is your party. make sure that the bartender doesn't give a fuck about what you are ordering and he gives you a small plastic cup full (full) of wellvodka (the enemy) and a couple cubes of ice that have probably touched the fingers of the guy who is now dancing over you (the club is actually paying him to stand on the bar) in a camoflage loin cloth. great. now take it back to the booth over-looking the ugly naked guy that is getting a massage on stage by a man in a black leather jock-strap. great. the drink is making you want to kill everyone it tastes so bad... maybe you are a bit drunk.
either way it is time to go to the bathroom. since the door says "LADIES" and you are a girl, walk past the 15 to 20 men lined up to use the restroom. at the front tell them that you are going first, you are going to pee first because you are a REAL lady. the one in the front argues. argue back. the others in the line start to heckle and agree with him. tell them they can fuck off. the man who is still arguing tries to push you out of the restroom. throw your drink in his face. then he tries to hit you. hit him. then the guys (gays) in the line start to pull you away from him. try to strangle him. all the men in the line will be pushing you out of the bathroom, some even picking you up and throwing you out. leave. leave the club and jump immediately into a cab that is passing at the exact moment you exit the GAY GAY PARTY.
now go to a neighborhood bar. drink pinot noir with the staff and dance around to songs you don't even like that much.
almost done. now when you get home after the bar has closed and you have made it through the gauntlet that is the entryway of your building, take your coat off. throw it on the floor of your room. now call someone on the phone. get down in your closet so that you are laying on top of all your shoes: clogs, heels, the works. look at your clothes curling and dangling hanging above you. make sure that your feet are sticking straight out into the rest of the room and make very sure that you look ABSOLUTELY ridiculous. it doesn't matter because no one can see.
JUST BECAUSE YOU STRANGLE A GAY GUY
the first thing you have to do to have the most freaktastic friday night is be so tired from sitting in the park all day (a couple hours spent deciding whether or not to get hustled out of a few bucks in the chess rotonda) that you can not imagine going out. then return one call. return a call to the one who calls you THE PARTY MACHINE. even though the machine has not been turned on, you sense that it is indeed low on fuel but being that it runs off of cencrifugal force/power, you know that it can indeed be put into full gear after a certain amount of banter, wine and redbull. so there you go. now the machine is running. that is step one-- the most important part of the entire equation.
now a note on the one-and-only PARTY MACHINE: the party machine is a force greater than nature. it has been said that if thunder and lightening, or a hurricane per se could drink any of the following: wine, champagne, beer, liquor, sparks, redbull, ect., that those natural disasters, in all of their dynamic force, could still not equal the reckoning power of THE PARTY MACHINE. That said.......
the next thing that you must do is put make-up and heels on while drinking. finish the bottle. have an energy drink just for good measure. now a little tipsy, pay too much to get into a club that you don't quite understand that you don't want to be there. akward-- yes. keep going. now that you are inside a sweaty BO-smelling basement dance club and the dj is spinning Kelis' MILKSHAKE into a techno song get a drink. great. drink it. now get another.
but not so fast, don't just get a drink like any other idiot in the wolrd-- you are THE PARTY MACHINE. get a double. no, of course you don't need it. but who cares. everywhere you go it is your party. make sure that the bartender doesn't give a fuck about what you are ordering and he gives you a small plastic cup full (full) of wellvodka (the enemy) and a couple cubes of ice that have probably touched the fingers of the guy who is now dancing over you (the club is actually paying him to stand on the bar) in a camoflage loin cloth. great. now take it back to the booth over-looking the ugly naked guy that is getting a massage on stage by a man in a black leather jock-strap. great. the drink is making you want to kill everyone it tastes so bad... maybe you are a bit drunk.
either way it is time to go to the bathroom. since the door says "LADIES" and you are a girl, walk past the 15 to 20 men lined up to use the restroom. at the front tell them that you are going first, you are going to pee first because you are a REAL lady. the one in the front argues. argue back. the others in the line start to heckle and agree with him. tell them they can fuck off. the man who is still arguing tries to push you out of the restroom. throw your drink in his face. then he tries to hit you. hit him. then the guys (gays) in the line start to pull you away from him. try to strangle him. all the men in the line will be pushing you out of the bathroom, some even picking you up and throwing you out. leave. leave the club and jump immediately into a cab that is passing at the exact moment you exit the GAY GAY PARTY.
now go to a neighborhood bar. drink pinot noir with the staff and dance around to songs you don't even like that much.
almost done. now when you get home after the bar has closed and you have made it through the gauntlet that is the entryway of your building, take your coat off. throw it on the floor of your room. now call someone on the phone. get down in your closet so that you are laying on top of all your shoes: clogs, heels, the works. look at your clothes curling and dangling hanging above you. make sure that your feet are sticking straight out into the rest of the room and make very sure that you look ABSOLUTELY ridiculous. it doesn't matter because no one can see.
posted by lisabot at 12:45 PM
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