There’s a Party in My Pants
I had the extreme misfortune yesterday of watching a show on MTV called The Best Sixteenth Birthday in the World for One Hugely Spoilt Bitch or something like that. I don’t remember what it was. I was busy at the time. What I do remember was how absolutely fucking terribly the little girls on the show behaved — and by extension how all women behave in exactly the same manner. These are role models for young women after all. Research has been done for it.
What the show taught me was something that I already knew, men are better than women at throwing parties. Everyone knows that. P Diddy knows that. And it’s not just because women’s organizational skills are a cluster fuck and that they turn into raving psychos when they have to deal with the kind of stress involved in getting a few dozen baked goods at the corner market or getting a dress hemmed before Thursday. No, it’s because women have their party attitudes all backwards ass — like a mule has had a face drawn on its butt and been taught to walk backwards.
If you ever see that, that’s a woman throwing a party.
It’s a simple question of motive, just like everything else that women fuck up, it’s because their motives are as transparent as an invisible brick wall.
When men throw a party, they make sure everyone has a good time. Men are good guys like that. As long as everyone is well fed, well drunk, and well on their way home by the end of the night with a smile on their face, it was a good party.
Women, however, have their heads screwed on in the wrong direction.
Women throw parties like the Greeks threw parties for their Gods — guess who’s the God. Likewise they expect heaps of libations and offerings to be unloaded upon them at all times. Presents? Yea, you bet your ass you’d better bring something. Bullshit? Oh yes. Be prepared to come up with some bullshit. Bullshit like this:
“Where did you get these napkin holders that also look like magicians hats? Did you purchase them out of a catalogue with your husband’s credit card? Did it take you like five fucking minutes when all was said and done? Did you have to get express shipping because you fucked off with the whole thing until the last minute? Well it really ties the whole stupid theme together. You’re so creative with your eight hours a day that aren’t spent at an office or a construction yard. And I’m so glad that eighteen pack of Amstel Light lasted like twenty minutes.”
Sounds like some world class bullshit doesn’t it? Well it is, and it’s also the kind of shit that you have to say at a woman’s party if you expect to get invited back. Plus you have to take whatever lame party favor is given to you at the end of the pseudo-party with a big smile on your face and not at all say, “What the fuck is this thing?”
When a man plans a party he asks himself these questions and then the party planning is done.
1. Do I have a trashcan or buckets full of ice and beer? Check.
2. Do I have as many chips and subway sandwiches as would fit in a shopping cart? Check
3. Are there going to be hot, hot ladies at the party?
Usually the answer to the third is ‘No’, but in a way that’s why men’s parties are so good. Because there are never any women around to fuck them up by pretending to play princess for a day.
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August 24th, 2005 at 11:48 am - IP Man-Hash: fc0a1f47284ec
You’ve obviously never come to one of my parties. Napkins just mean more clearing up in the morning, there’s no way any of my friends would have them. I also finance my parties with my own money (all the booze and food etc), no one brings ‘presents’ unless it’s more drink that they particularly like. You must have a very boring social life if you go to that kind of party.
August 24th, 2005 at 11:53 am - IP Man-Hash: f3ae1ac46a2e3
I’ve obviously never come to one of your parties? Is that supposed to be an impression of Veruca Salt? Because if it is it’s a good one.
-Dick
August 24th, 2005 at 12:43 pm - IP Man-Hash: b0e7aae980b2e
Hortensia, I can believe none of your friends use napkins; I’m sure none of them use toilet paper, either.
August 24th, 2005 at 4:36 pm - IP Man-Hash: cc0d45fa29251
As a man, I know what it takes to throw a damn good party. I also know, as a guest to many female-planned “get togethers” which don’t even deserved to be called parties, women can’t. Hint to women, the best part of the party should not be when I get to go home so that I don’t have to hear you blabber anymore bullshit nonsense about the air. Man patries involve booze, music, games (see ping pong, darts, foosball, beer pong, various drinking games, etc.), watching sports, and eventually, some nice nekkid bouincing titties. Women “parties” involve shit-eating grins with fained greetings and bullshit so thick I’d need a sawz-all to cut through it.
August 24th, 2005 at 6:50 pm - IP Man-Hash: 8f017666cb7a7
What you seem to be confused with Dick, is the difference between a party, and a dinner party. Dinner parties are the one with the napkins, and are completely different from ‘party’ parties. I know plenty of guys that host dinner parties, which do indeed involve napkins folded into aesthetically pleasing shapes, and i know lots of women who hold some wild parties which are very similar to the one you described as being a ‘real party’.
August 25th, 2005 at 7:02 am - IP Man-Hash: 56806c0431943
If you are a man, how exactly is it you know what happens at women’s get together. Morbid curiosity?
August 26th, 2005 at 10:58 am - IP Man-Hash: fc0a1f47284ec
Jimbo, my name is not Hortensia. I’d complain about the spelling but that would make me a hypocrit and it’s just copying the name from the top of my message, not nearly as complex as spelling. And no, my friends do use toilet paper however cleverly folded napkins aren’t traditional when eating pizza whilst listening to System Of A Down and watching the cricket on TV.
Maybe Dick cross-dressed? Maybe he has cunt envy?
August 26th, 2005 at 11:03 am - IP Man-Hash: f3ae1ac46a2e3
It would make you a hypocrite you illiterate little girl. Now how about taking your favorite band and BFF bullshit over to myspace or livejournal where it belongs.
-Dick
August 27th, 2005 at 5:35 am - IP Man-Hash: 56806c0431943
Dick, how exactly is it you know what happens at girls get togethers?
August 28th, 2005 at 10:27 pm - IP Man-Hash: 467b5991597e9
Hidden cameras and a minimum of two sisters (preferably onethat’s older than he and one that’s younger). The two of them should throw enough Feminazi parties that he knows everything that happens at their parties, right down to what moves the lesbians like their partners to use when they finally strip…
Note: The hidden cameras is an addon and isn’t as important as the two sisters. Hidden cameras only make the gathering of such valuable knowledge as Dick Masterson has that much easier to obtain. However, the very noise of such parties should be more than enough to explain what’s happening to someone such as Mr. Masterson, who has a fertile and vivid iMANgination… (who else could have thought of a MAN Bag!?)
September 8th, 2005 at 2:51 pm - IP Man-Hash: 56806c0431943
Your brains not even connected to your mouth is it? Idiot.
October 27th, 2005 at 1:40 pm - IP Man-Hash: 04c1fd760d95b
“Nicole Says:
August 27th, 2005 at 5:35 am - IP Man-Hash: 56806c0431943
Dick, how exactly is it you know what happens at girls get togethers?”
There is no fucking escaping them, my favourite is the tupperware party.
Yes,they have parties to sell fetish plastic.
Unbelievable,
And boring as all hell.
How do we know ?
Because women have to blabber everything, they have to tell everyone within listening distance about their ” really had so much fun” tupperware parties.
February 21st, 2007 at 10:01 am - IP Man-Hash: adc0a2c9dafc9
But you don’t even have one for your mouth to connect too.
And that is why you just say anything without any logic to it..
February 21st, 2007 at 10:22 am - IP Man-Hash: 1e9a4fd46c3a7
I really don’t party much. I mean when I go to a party I just sit and talk, or move my head up and down to the music near the DJ.