Once finals are over, you crazy kids are going to go buck wild come this spring break. Little do you minions know, Ms. Lynn Loo La over here has attended her fair share of parties too (during her time off from saving the world, one poorly named Vietnamese business district at a time). Unfortunately, I find that one out of 10 college parties end in lameness due to some “incident” that occurs. So if you’re asking yourself, “Gee whiz Lynn, how can I ruin everyone’s time at a decent party?” Have no fear; I’ve done the work for you.
Get political. There’s nothing like some son of a bitch who wants to rile everyone up for no good reason except to get attention. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for open discussions on the state of the nation (especially since this campaign is a goldmine for political junkies), but there’s a time and place for such things. A party where everyone is laughing it up with the exception of one dude who thinks he knows everything is definitely not one of those times.
Not only does ambushing your “opponent” put them on the spot unbeknownst to them, it also bores the crap out of other people. Case in point: Some douche bag was trying to rip me a new one at this party last week. Mind you he was intoxicated, but that didn’t stop him from bringing up the war, the campaign, etc. He was one pretentious bastard, and he seemed hell bent on proving me wrong. About what, I’m not sure. It just looked like he wanted to be right about nothing in particular.
He fervently kept jabbering on and asking questions like, “What is truth?” (A: He was a douche bag) and, “Well, what do you believe is right?” (A: He was a douche bag). As a final coup d’état, he implied that he was much smarter than me given his JC education and that my UC education was a waste of time and money.
Luckily, it all came to an end when I punched him in the face, jabbed his eyes out and pulled his pants down to expose his 2-inch wang for everyone to see. Okay, so that didn’t really happen, but it could’ve. Not to brag, but I’m 95 pounds of pure muscle, baby!
If that fails, you can always start some drama, mama. Personally, I’ve witnessed a good number of drama unfold between people I don’t know, and I love every second of it. Especially when it comes to a lover’s quarrel.
I always get a kick out of watching the girl, face stricken with tears and mascara stains, scream at her guy who is obviously pissed off and belligerent. Some guys on the receiving end like to yell back, but other guys opt for pacing back and forth looking like they want to say something, but end up just breathing really hard instead. I don’t know why, but it’s über fun to watch. I also like to observe how everyone else is reacting. Some a) ignore it b) watch it with a smile as big as my own or c) participate by jumping in and defending someone whilst being a little drunk too.
I know it might not be that enjoyable to those involved, but when I’m just a bystander, I soak every moment in like a champion. Someday, I want to involve myself by taking a side too, and then run away when they realize that they have no idea who I am and that I only came to play with their Rockband™.
Be a dance predator. I’ve used this term before (about fending guys off at the dance floor), but I just want to reiterate how being molested while dancing doesn’t really make the night awesome. But I certainly don’t speak for all girls – I’ve seen plenty who don’t seem to mind the whole genital grinding galore extravaganza.
For my friends and me though, we get a little shy when a guy sneaks up on us and starts assuming he can touch whatever he wants. It gets especially awkward when the guy gets butt hurt after one of us rejects him (my friends like to walk away while I prefer to crouch down in a ball, put my arms over my head, and scream, “Stranger, Danger!” repeatedly until he walks away). It’s nothing personal, kid. You just give us the heebie-jeebies when you start looking at us like you’re planning how to stuff us in the trunk of your car later on that night.
LYNN LA likes to wish everyone good luck on their upcoming finals and also an invitation to everyone’s parties sent to firstname.lastname@example.org. Please, she’s begging you. Have you no heart? She has no friends for crying out loud, take pity on her!