First off, our apologies go to the folks at Lane Avenue, who, without a doubt, threw the Party of the Week. Due to an unnatural schedule Kurt and Slobba were unable to compose all the warm and gushy feelings we experienced at this sweaty celebration of the 1980’s. With that said lets get to the smokin’ good time that we shared with more than a few Buckeyes this weekend.This Saturday we got off to an early start, inspired by our victorious football team. Kurt picked up a bottle of Jameson and by the end of the game we were not even using ice, or for that matter glasses. Feeling particularly uncivilized, Slobba went out back to take a piss and was struck by another call of the wild. Hearing the faint echo of “Hang On Sloopy,” we wrapped the whiskey in a towel and headed in that direction answering every “O-H” with a rabid “I-O!” Due to the untimely onset of Autumn, we quickly realized that even our litre of Ireland’s finest was not going to keep us warm. We braved the cold with the rest of our uncoated cohorts, hoping to find our way indoors soon. No such luck, though; the lines at the kegs were ten people thick in five directions. Despite the honor of having thrown the coveted “Party of the Week,” the hosts could have at least rented out a few more taps to keep the crowds at bay, allowing us the luxury of filling our cups without waiting for 20 minutes.Once inside, we discovered the source of the aforementioned “Hang on Sloopy” – an enormous stereo system that was now blaring some sort of house dance tune that kept repeating that “the music sounds better with you.” We concurred. The music was far from good, but the crowd of hotties bouncing up and down on the dance floor made Slobba shake his money-maker like Kurt had never seen. The music was now sounding really good to us, but apparently the quality of the tune was lost on the dude with the beer-bong who stumbled over a coffee table, puked, and ran out the front door. The melee did not stop there. The scent of his partially-digested pizza dinner smeared on the hardwood floor soon prompted a rather “vulnerable freshman” to follow suit, severely damaging his chances of leaving with the pretty young girl he was dancing with. We were sorry about his luck.Almost immediately the place began to clear out, sending everyone out into the cold drizzle that had picked up considerably. We kept the faith for a while, holding the cups in one hand and blowing on the other trying to warm the blood that was probably topping .2 percent, judging by Slobba’s sloppy speech. Pretty soon, though, even these two hardy party seekers had had enough. We headed back home with what little whiskey we had left and decided to crash so that we could get up early Sunday morning. Out of guilt for inspiring so many vulnerable frat boys to poison themselves with drugs and drink, we decided to attend church. More on that next time!
Kurt Cocaine and Slobbadon Molestachick invited former Tribe manager Mike Hargrove over for drinks this week in an attempt to cheer him up. He politely declined. If you think you’ve got what it takes for a “Party of the Week,” and would like Slobba and Kurt to review it, send an e-mail to [email protected] with the subject attn: Slobba and Kurt to let them know when and where.