Saturday, July 30, 2005

the dance off

i went to a promotion-slash-birthday party last night. wow, talk about drama.

one of my friends, D, saw a bunch of gorgeous dutch women dancing on the floor. keep in mind, these girls only know A, the guy that invited them, while D pretty much helped organize the shout-out for his boys.

anyway, he walks out to the floor and starts humping the air wildly. then he decides to grab his crotch very emphatically while cutting the rug. apparently, dutch women don't like this. one girl tried to clauber his nuts with her knee and the other harpy chased him to his seat. she started yelling and screaming, "you fucking sick loser, you are so ugly you sick loser, your clothes look retarded." she ran back to her friend after delivering her inane diatribe, which consisted of several hand gestures, the most notable being the bird (whoopdee-fucking-doo) and she brought back some sesame street nostalgia cause she made the letter "L" with her right hand, which she held brazenly to her forehead. before making her departure though, she reached out and slapped him soundly accross the face -- i guess for good measure. what a fucking shrew. D didn't even flinch or retaliate; instead, he calmly sat there and repeatedly told her to leave.

i couldn't help but laugh, being that i was both in good humor and fairly drunk. i decided this scene was not only reminiscent of a particular PBS phenom, but one from American Pie as well; that part when Stiffler decides to have a dance-off with that obnoxiously fagtastic gay guy. in a moment of genius, i went to D and told him he should have a dance off, but he was pretty pissed and said, "i'm not having a fucking dance-off."

so i did the next best thing -- i went to his oppenent and told her that they should both have a dance off. i don't think i realized just how retarded this bitch was until she said, very vehemently, "yeah, we can have a dance off. i'll show him!" she started prancing over in D's direction once more, only this time she looked like she was a back-up dancer for "thriller". i was fucking rolling.

she got back in his face, starting jabbering about the dance off and goading him onto the floor. i guess she thought i was serious? oops. because all i did was inivte more trouble for d in the long run. she eventually turned her drink into a geyser rocket and launched it at D's head.

when D's wife, T caught wind of the escapade, she pulled the girl aside, who was all of 17-years' old, and exchanged some very choice words with her, the gist of which was "beat," "ass," and "your." of course, i wasn't there so i can't say for certain.

the only thing that could have made this party better is if D HAD conceded to the dance off.

the weekly review

some shit i learned this past week:

10) i don't know how to change-out the dead bulbs in my house; don't even know which replacements to get.

9) i like walking a bazillion kilometers at a time. (now that i can't fucking run!)

8) i can't figure out how to burn a cd - besides setting it on fire.

7) i learned the word for people who don't believe in organized religion. i would share it, but i already forgot.

6) my sex drive is depleted. yay, after 3 years+ of hormone hell i finally get a break!!

5) when people pay to throw a pie in your face, it means they know you're alive.

4) backed-up loos at parties get on my nerves, but i'm easily assauged by a mean 7-layer bean dip.

3) bacardi gold and coke with a twist of lime is really fucking good.

2) dutch women get very perturbed when american men grab their OWN crotches. (???)

1) and finally, i didn't know i could wake up before 0930 on a saturday.

okay, time to call S so we can go shopping for that second-hand coffee table.

ciao, bello!