Dennis was college roommate at Penn State during my freshman and sophomore years. He's in charge of DraftDebacled.com, a project that we've been working on for two years now.
Dennis got married in May 2009 - read all about my drunken time in the live blog - and his birthday party was a few Saturdays ago. Naturally, I found a few jerks to write about:
About a month before the party, I received an e-mail from Dennis' wife. I opened the e-mail and there was a message saying "Guess whose birthday it is?" and a link to an e-vite or something. Since I'm fat and lazy, I didn't feel like clicking the link. Instead, I IMed Dennis.
Me: Hey man, I just got the e-mail about your birthday party.
Dennis: What birthday party?
Me: The e-mail your wife sent out about your birthday party.
Dennis: I had no idea I was having a birthday party.
Dennis then spoke to his wife. I imagine the conversation went something like this:
Dennis: Hey, I didn't know you were throwing me a birthday party.
Wife: How did you find out about the surprise party already!? I just sent out the invitations seven minutes ago!
Dennis: Walt told me.
Wife: I'm going to kill that fat slob!!!
Just kidding - his wife didn't say anything like that. Or at least I hope not. The fact remains, however, that I completely ruined the surprise party. When I arrived at Dennis' house that Saturday, his dad greeted me.
Dennis' Dad: Don't worry Walt, I've got your back.
Me: What do you mean?
Dennis' Dad: All the women in there want to kill you for ruining the surprise.
It actually wasn't that bad. People gave me s*** for it, but everyone was pretty much drunk when I arrived, so they were nice about it.
Thank God. I thought they were going to keep the beer, hot dogs and hamburgers away from me as punishment. That would have been a nightmare.
Speaking of hot dogs and hamburgers, I piled several onto my plate around 6:30. I remember the time because everyone gathered around the TV to watch the Belmont horse race.
As I stuffed food into my face, this hot chick sat down to my right. She looked at me like she had instantly fallen in love with me. I thought really hard and came up with something clever to say to her.
Yeah, so talking while chewing hot dogs and hamburgers proved to be more difficult than I realized. However, despite my inability to speak the English language at that moment, Hot Chick still stared at me lovingly. I got game, what can I say?
The weirdest thing happened after that. Hot Chick began making baby noises while looking at me. I thought about saying, "Yo, Hot Chick, I know I have ketchup all over my face, but that doesn't mean you have to talk to me like I'm a baby. I'm a grown man, damn it."
I would have said this to her, but then I looked to my left. There was a baby on some dude's lap. It turns out that Hot Chick never once stared at me; she was admiring a baby - her own baby, I would soon find out.
Oops. Oh well. I couldn't game Hot Chick, but I still had my precious hot dogs and hamburgers, so I was very happy.
3. Little Kids:
Forgive me for picking on babies and little kids, but they were the true jerks of Dennis' 30th birthday party.
There were tons of little kids there, presumably the children of Dennis' siblings and cousins. I was too drunk early on and too busy eating the awesome food to ask who everyone was.
The little kids caused havoc, however. First, they completely ruined our game of beer pong. I don't know who the culprit was, but one kid thought it would be funny to smash all of our beer pong cups. Fortunately, Dennis had some cups in reserve.
Second, the little kids drew all over Dennis' driveway with chalk while we were playing beer pong. That normally wouldn't be an issue, except one kid wrote the following in green chalk:
"God hates flags."
I'm not making this up. We were all shocked by it. I didn't know 7- and 8-year-old kids could be artsy-fartsy new-age, tree-hugging, rat-bastard hippies.
We quickly forgot about this unforgivable act of communism when we saw what one person did to Dennis' car. Someone - presumably an adult - wrote "Gay Pride" on Dennis' windshield with different colors of chalk.
I guess it's a good thing that the kids didn't write "God hates fags" on the driveway. Otherwise, we would have had a major dispute between the gay kids and homophobe adults at the party. That definitely would have ruined beer pong.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 2: Jerks at Polina's Party
My cousin Polina is getting married. She asked if she could have her engagement party at my house, and I was happy to oblige. Why? Well, not only was it the nice thing to do; it meant that I could get as drunk as balls and not worry about driving home.
It proved to be a rough night. While playing Wii with two chicks, I couldn't get past the first level of Ghosts and Goblins. And if that's not enough, I puked all over my basement bathroom at 3:30 a.m. The following day I discovered that I completely missed the toilet and vomited all over my wall. The cleaning ladies couldn't even get it out the following Tuesday. As the hot cleaning lady said, "I was in there 20 minutes and I was gagging the whole time. I can't get the puke off the wall."
At any rate, I was barely able to function the next day. Alka-Seltzer saved me. Fortunately, I was able to recall two jerks from Polina's party:
1. Party Pooper:
When I looked at the invite list on Facebook, I noticed that this unbelievably hot chick named Kristin RSVPed to the party.
Unfortunately, Kristin never showed up, which shocked me since women are usually so reliable with plans.
I ended up talking to this hot Asian chick. She didn't seem to mind that I was super drunk. In fact, I was surprised she didn't walk away in disgust when we had the following exchange:
Me: It's nice to meet you.
Hot Asian Chick: What? We met before at your Halloween party.
Me: Oh, oops!
Hot Asian Chick proved to be quite gamey. Maybe I'm recalling things differently because I was drunk, but I remember her touching my arm and saying stuff like, "I love your house" and "I love your hot tub."
It was on. Well, almost on. Her friend would prove to be my downfall.
Let's backtrack a bit. Hot Asian Chick walked into Polina's party with two friends. One happened to be Crazy Horse Girl. The other was pretty attractive as well, but said that she didn't want to drink any alcohol because she was tired from work. I instantly referred to her as Party Pooper.
Now, I was talking to Hot Asian Chick when Party Pooper wanted to leave.
Party Pooper: I want to go home.
Hot Asian Chick: She's my ride. I guess I have to go.
Me: It's so early, you guys should stay.
Hot Asian Chick: Yeah, let's stay a bit longer.
Party Pooper: I've been up since 8 a.m.
Hot Asian Chick: I've been up since 6 a.m. and I'm fine!
Me: Yeah! I've been up since noon!
Party Pooper: I'm so tired guys, I really need to go to sleep.
Hot Asian Chick: Oh, that means I have to go.
Me: I'll drive you home.
Hot Asian Chick: OK!
Party Pooper: No, I don't want to leave by myself.
Me: Why not?
Party Pooper: Because then I'll feel bad.
Hot Asian Chick: Oh, I guess I have to go then.
AHHHH!!!!!!! What. The. Hell. I seriously hate girls who do this. They're having a bad time because they're lame, so they have to drag everyone else down with them.
Ugh. I'm so disgusted that I feel like I have to vomit on my bathroom wall again.
Like most people, I say and do stupid crap when I drink. A telltale sign that I'm drunk is when I try to prove to everyone that I'm not intoxicated by reciting the alphabet backward as quickly as possible.
Man-Eaters, Injured Reserve's fiancee, called me out on this at Polina's party.
Man-Eaters: You're so drunk right now.
Me: No I'm not! Look, Z, Y, X, W, V, U, T, S, R...
Despite this, I was allowed to play 21 - a drinking game where people sit in a circle and take turns counting up to 21. The only initial rule is that you say "seven" instead of 14 and "14" instead of seven. Once you get to 21, the person who gets to 21 is allowed to make a new rule. For example, that person can elect to skip 13, rotate backward at six, or have everyone say "That's my mom you're talking about you lying sack of s***" instead of 21. If someone gets their number wrong, they have to drink, and then everyone starts back at one. It's a fun game, and I encourage everyone to play it.
At any rate, we were playing for a while, so we decided to have one final elimination round. There were only four of us remaining, setting up the epic fail of all epic fails.
Injured Reserve: Aye captain.
Me: Uhh... uhh... 18... I mean eight!
The correct answer would have been four. Whoops.
I was eliminated. But this was not the worst thing I did all night. And neither was the bathroom wall vomit.
My friend Adrienne and her 17-year-old brother Will came to the party. A few hours in, I noticed that Will wasn't drinking. I'm an enabler when I'm intoxicated, so I naturally had to ask Will why he didn't have a cup in his hand.
Me: Why arrrn't yewwww drinkunnnn?
Will: I'm driving.
This made me angry.
Me: WHAT! YOU LIVE LIKE TWO BLOCKS AWAY! WHY DIDN'T YOU WALK?
Will: I dunno.
Me: Dude, you can drink and drive two blocks. It's not a big deal.
Will: Nah man, I'm cool.
Me: Dude, seriously, you can drink like three beers right now and then stop drinking for a couple of hours, and your blood alcohol will be zero. ZERO!
Will: It's OK. I'm fine.
Me: DUDE! SERIOUSLY! DRINK ALCOHOL NOW!!!!
Will: Maybe next time.
About an hour later, Adrienne caught wind that I was trying to get her brother to drink.
Adrienne: Why are you telling my 17-year-old brother that it's OK to drink and drive?
Me: Becauzz he duzznt hava drinkkk in hizz hannnnd hic!
Adrienne: My brother doesn't even drink!
This was news to me. Will had always been at Adrienne's parties, so I assumed that he drank alcohol. I had no idea that he hadn't started drinking yet.
I wrote earlier that I do and say stupid stuff when I'm drunk. Does trying a force a minor to have his first drink, and then drink and drive count? Hmm... not sure.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 3: Always Late Man
I'm not going to name any names or places in this section because I don't want to get into trouble. But this is a funny story definitely worth noting.
Two weeks ago, I was talking to a friend whom I'll refer to as Always Late Man - someone I have yet to mention on Jerks of the Week. Always Late Man made out with a chick at our previous party. Always Late Man and I had the following conversation on AIM:
Always Late Man: I don't think Hot Chick will want to do anything with me at your place tomorrow night.
Me: Why not?
Always Late Man: I don't know.
Me: Dude, she's into you.
Always Late Man: I don't think so.
Me: I guarantee it.
Always Late Man: I'll bet you $20 I won't be able to get with her tomorrow night.
Me: I don't know about betting $20 with you. I think you might sabotage your own game just to win the money.
Always Late Man: For $20? No way. For $100 maybe, but not for $20.
Me: OK, fine. Twenty bucks says you'll do stuff with Hot Chick, and you promise to try your hardest?
Always Late Man: Deal.
The following night, I had a small gathering at my place. Always Late Man texted me at 8 p.m., "Just rented a car." Two hours later, Always Late Man still hadn't arrived despite the fact that he lives only 25 minutes away. This proved to be a problem because Hot Chick was getting drunk and I needed a beer pong partner.
Always Late Man finally arrived around 10:30. We walked into the kitchen to get some drinks. Hot Chick ran up to Always Late Man and looked him right in the eyes.
Hot Chick: Hey... want to do shots with me?
Always Late Man looked at me and whispered, "Can I retract my bet?"
I shook my head. Always Late Man ruined our beer pong game because Hot Chick distracted him. Soon after, he and Hot Chick disappeared. The $20 was as good as mine. Muhahahaha!!!
Fourteen hours later, Always Late Man and I were discussing the night as I was trying desperately not to puke all over my laptop.
Always Late Man: If you find water in your hot tub, that's because Hot Chick wanted to use it, but I told her no.
Me: Good man. Way to control your woman.
Always Late Man: I'm kinda nervous though.
Always Late Man: She told me she wasn't on the pill, and we didn't use a condom.
Me: Ha! Someone's going to have a little Jon Snow running around.
Always Late Man: Ugh!
Me: You still owe me $20 though.
Always Late Man: I don't have $20.
Always Late Man: I'll write you a check.
Me: That's fine.
Always Late Man: The check will probably bounce though.
Me: You know, I'd be shocked if it didn't bounce.
It's only been nine days, but it might as well be nine years because I know I'm never going to see that $20. Hey, I called this guy "Always Late Man" for more than just his tardiness to social gatherings.