Between Beer Pong and Babies

13 Jan

It’s hard to party in your late 20’s. You’re too old for clubs, too tired from work, and too bored for bars. House parties would be fun if more people danced, and dinner parties would be awesome if there weren’t babies there. Yes, human babies. This is starting to happen in my life and I’m not down.

Babies are the new age beer pong. They are both the unnecessary focal point of a party. Beer pong in the wrong hands, and in the wrong environment is poison. The game has a bro tractor beam, which would be great if all the terrible people at a party were somehow sucked into vortex and rendered speechless the rest of the night, but this is not the case. Good people are sucked into the vortex as well, and so they stand there with hands in pockets muttering, “who’s got next?” The competitors at the table are a complete mess and are elevated to momentary celebrity status as the pong-less peasants hang on their every word, “Lemme get a re-rack bitch!” Lolz. Classic.

beer pongBabies are harder to hate so passionately. They can sometimes be funny for like a minute. Otherwise, they are the worst guests ever. They cry, scream, slobber and fall asleep everywhere. Imagine you invite an adult to your house, and he or she shows up crying, spits everywhere on your floor, makes a couple incomprehensible noises while flailing his limbs and then passes out. You might laugh for a second, but ultimately I would hope you call 911 and never talk to them again. You would ask this person to leave, and so I am asking babies to kindly leave.

babyBabies are also huge cockblocks. Everything they do in public is applauded and cheered. They are the party show-off you can’t call a dick, cause everyone will call you a dick for calling a baby a dick. Baby dick. There is no competing and it frustrates me to no end.

So I remain in purgatory. I’m too cripplingly self-aware to throw balls in cups of shitty beer, and too immature to start a family, but I still want to party. If you are ever bored, shoot me a text sometime and we can kick it in limbo together until our moms tell us they really, really want grandkids.

One Response to “Between Beer Pong and Babies”

  1. tz February 14, 2014 at 11:15 pm #

    A-fucking-men! As a female who has chosen NOT to use her uterus for it’s intended purpose, I can relate to this party purgatory you speak of. Every year the Guantanamo baby interrogation gets worse.

    I shit you not, I even had to hear it from my waxing lady. While that might be TMI, I can assure you there are few things more uncomfortable than an old Asian woman telling you, “you die alone and sad if you don have babies,” as she viciously rips hairs from your precious lady-parts.

    #truestory #babiesRdicks

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