Monday, July 4, 2011

The Fourth of America

This year was a mellow Independence Day, I cleaned and such. 

Last year, I had a good enough day to last me for years. 

This story takes places in Davis, California. If you have never been to Davis, take my word for it, you're not missing much. And by much, I mean a University, a Jamba Juice, and slutty virgins. 

What is a slutty virgin? Let me tell you. A slutty virgin is a person (most likely a girl) who is willing to give any guy a blow job, but due to some misguided sense of morality, will not have sex until marriage. Apparently, sucking a guy off until he pops in your eye is less degrading then the act of sex. Who knew?

BrotherS, from "I Have Found Hell" lives in Davis. He has roommates who like to drink a lot. I was thirsty. Made sense, right?

Emcee, ShadowFox and myself go up to Davis the night before. After a couple of games of beer pong (COLLEGE!!) we pass out while playing Super Mario Kart. This house is a few oversize Greek letters over it's door from being a shitty frat. 

Living with BrotherS is PrettyBoy, SomeOneWhoDidn'tDoAnythingCoolEnoughToRemember, and CaptainBlackout. 

CaptainBlackout is my hero because of this night. 

I wake up on the couch around 8 in the morning. This is the one day of the year I will ever be truly patriotic (besides the Olympics/World Cup), and I love any excuse to start drinking absurdly early in the day, but waking up to CaptainBlackout and PrettyBoy doing shots in the kitchen before I've had toast is a bit much for me. 

But it was for America, so fuck it. 

I start drinking at around noon, with Emcee and ShadowFox joining me. People are coming in and out of the house, and apparently people know who they are because they start playing beer pong with us. 

At this point the entire apartment is called to pay attention to CaptainBlackout like he was about to give a best man's wedding toast. But instead of a tuxedo, he is shirtless with gym shorts. And instead of a glass of champagne, he has a pimp cup with Screw You Drivers (orange soda and vodka), spiked with rum. And instead of a toast, he says, "see everyone tomorrow" and downs half the pimp cup in one go. 

That was the last moment I saw CaptainBlackout until later. BrotherS, Emcee, ShadowFox, and GirlOfBrotherS go to watch some fireworks, because nothing (and I mean NOTHING) is more American than being drunk and seeing shit blow up. Suck on my freedom, third world. 

Did I mention we had a vuvuzela? Those annoying horns from the World Cup? 

Oh yes, we did. And we made sure everyone watching the fireworks knew that I had one. 

After shit blew up and we started to sober up, we decided to go back to the apartment. We get there, and it is curiously empty. Then we realize that everyone is upstairs at the girls apartment upstairs. A good move, I think. 

This is where we are once rejoined with CaptainBlackout. He is swaying next to the upstairs beer pong table, looking like he just ate a tazer. After he almost knocks the table over (twice) someone decided he should go to be. At this same instant, CaptainBlackout decides he should open beers for everyone else. A roll and half of paper towels later, he is whisked away downstairs to bed. 

But not bedroom door can contain Captain Blackout. 

Meanwhile, I am a star of the party because I have a vuvuzela. People are coming up to me, begging me to beer bong out of it. Fuck Yes America. 

Now, my memory gets a bit fuzzy at this point, so I'll just recap my favorite moments. Make out with some chick. Don't remember her name. Or face. She starts having sex with some guy while we are all in the room. I do a handstand and end up kicking some poor innocent girl in the head. She leaves. You're welcome. I make an amazing shot into a trash bin with a beer can. CaptainBlackout comes back upstairs to finish knocking over the beer pong table. Someone takes him downstairs. He stays downstairs. 

Then I meet a girl. Let's call her AMouth. We talk, she is enamored with my partying abilities and my vuvuzela. We start making out. 

Remember when I talked about slutty virgins?

When I suggest we go somewhere more private (like a spare bedroom, a bathroom, or a bush behind the apartment complex, because I keep it classy) she says something along the lines of "I don't know you very well, slow down, let's talk, blahblahblahblah". I'm not sure if it was the patriotism, fireworks, or copious amounts of alcohol but I am not taking this. I am like a fucking Spartan. No retreat. No surrender. Sex or death. 

I died that night. I think I gave up around the time she said, "I'm waiting..." To be honest, I never heard what she was waiting for. I was gone. 


CaptainBlackout pissed his bed after playing drunk WarCraft. 

Before I left the party I handed condoms to a couple who were hooking up in the same room as the first sex group were passed out in. 

AMouth tried to friend me on facebook. Apparently she never got the memo that if you are a drunken hookup, you're job is to never talk to me again. Ever. 

But there is silver lining to AMouth's naivete. Because I gave her my real name and she knew who I was with, she was able to find me. Never again. So, when ever I am able, I give a fake name. To protect my identity and my respectable life I use an alter ego. 

On that night, Riley Dare was born. 

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