STOP THE PRESSES! If you keep reading, you will be lost and wandering through the woods like Bambi after he got ravaged by a wolf. This is part II of a series, first you must read the Kenny Chronicles: Risky Doesn’t Begin To Describe This Business. No really, get out of here.
This is quite long, it really should have been 3 parts… but who has patience for that? Okay, where were we? Oh yes. Circa 2006. I was going to house sit for Slumdog Millionaire [heroin addict ex-boyfriend] while he was in London “sorting himself out.” So being the responsible house sitter, I was in full party planning mode with Kenny [metrosexual BFF] for our Top Secret Risky Business-themed-birthday bash, scheduled for the weekend after Slumdog departed. My old London roommate was flying out from the Big Apple. The DJ was booked. Ray Bans and five thousand glow in the dark beads were ordered. Approximately 300 invitations were accidentally sent out.
Brief history of “the house” in question: I don’t think you understand. This house was in the NICEST neighborhood in my entire city. Quiet little families. Doctors and Lawyers. Maple trees, Unicorns, and rainbows EVERYWHERE. The only parties thrown in this neighborhood were, like, Mary Kay related. This knowledge will come in handy later on.
And now, courtesy of the recent archaeological dig in my Myspace Museum, I present to you an exact replica of the invitation to the “Kenny & Brit Risky Business B-day Bash of 06.” [My observations have been made in pink]
Dear those who like Tom Cruise and those who don’t,
I’m about 99% sure one of these things is currently true: 1. Your panties are now officially in a bundle. 2. Your mom still cooks a mean casserole. 3. Making out is my favorite past-time. Wait, sorry! We’re not talking about me.
Well, fear not, for the clouds have cleared and I can see the party of your life shining through – as if it were some golden ray of sunlight after a cold, dark & lonely winter void of human interaction and … wait, what? So break out the Velcro shoulder pads, the stars are aligned and its the Age of Aquarius. [clearly, my schizophrenic writing style and tendency to digress have not matured over time]
THE OFFICIAL DAY THAT YOU’RE GONNA LOVE YOUR LIFE: FRIDAY, AUGUST 4th @ 9pm-? We have condensed the guest list considerably [from what, 1000?] because this cannot get out of hand!! WARNING: Hey, Conan and the rest of you barbarians! You will be kicked out faster than Michael Jackson in a daycare if you do any of the following: [this was the second, ahem, slightly over-sized and out of control get together that we threw in Slumdog’s house]
*smoke inside the house (cuz you did last time)
*punch holes thru the walls or rip off the thermostat (cuz you did last time)
*spill stuff all over the place like you’ve got cerebral palsy (cuz you did last time)
[INSERT CRISIS] Four days before the party, Slumdog informs me that he’s not flying home.
Me: Um. [ losing my last fricken’ marble on the inside] I thought you were going to sort yourself out and get better? Don’t you want to get BETTER? Don’t you care about me? And your mom. What about your mom? You haven’t seen your mom in like a year?! What kind of son ARE YOU?
Needless to say, guilt trips don’t work very well on people who are on drugs to escape reality and feelings -thus, he missed his flight. Kenny and I went into full fledged Mission Impossible crisis mode. I had to do something drastic. I bought him a new ticket and if I had to sell my soul to make sure he went, I was ready. But the only ticket I could get was for the day AFTER our party.
Me [to Slumdog]: So I’ve bought you a new ticket for this weekend. You leave on Sunday, but I’ve arranged for ___ to pick you up on Friday and you’re going to stay in Chicago for the weekend and hang out on a yacht. It’ll be good for you. Have fun.
Night before the party I receive this email from Kenny:
From: Chad-a-licious
To: Neil, I still hate you.
Date: Aug 3, 2006 7:43 PM
Subject: Oh, by the way…
…let’s see. Could I be anymore frickin’ nervous??!!
[[exhale]] oh, boy… :S
and is that receptionist from the laser place still comin’???
Typical. When Slumdog arrived in Chicago, Kenny and I were an hour away moving all the furniture out of his house, taping black garbage bags to all the windows, installing ambient lighting, and sweating bullets. It was a hot mess. And so were we cus I got a call from Slumdog every 5 minutes saying he wanted to come home. [For a moment I’d like to flash back to my college days and have Miss Brooks switch that “B” to an “A” cus, wow, this was a persuasive speech the likes of which you’ve never seen.]
So the DJ was set up in the main living room. Yea, the one with a big giant window that you’d usually drive by and see a Christmas tree in. By about 10 pm, the entire neighborhood was lined with cars and people I’d never seen before were wandering through people’s yards in pursuit of the party. The back deck was filled with rowdy smokers. This party was anything but down low.
By the third time the cops came, I mistakenly thought he said I would be arrested, and I burst out into tears. Kenny, as usual, took over.
[standing in the front doorway] Officer: Do you realize this is a neighborhood where people have children?
Kenny: Yes, sir. I know, we had no idea it was so loud. [lies. lies from the depths of hell!] We will keep it down.
Officer: I’ve been getting alot of complaints. [peeking his head in at all the destruction] There wouldn’t happen to be any minors here would there?
Kenny: Officer. [putting his hand on his heart] Officer, what do you take me for? I am 25 years old. Do you really think a guy like me would allow something like that – in a neighborhood like this? In a house like this? Sir, rest assured, I have dotted every “i” and crossed every “t.”
And at that very moment, you could hear the sound of every Abercrombie & Fitch employee running out the back door and taking shelter in neighbors’ various swing sets and tube slides.
Wtf are you mother theresa or something? Hike that skirt up!
mr. c… i apologize! am i in big, big trouble? haha
rach – you might have mentioned it a couple times…. and NO he never found out!!!! hahah. we are fricken smooth as butter.
theresa -well thanks. these days, i feel its a bit on the short side…. i’m not quite so uh, carefree anymore. hahah. Nope… as i told rach he didn’t ever find out!
Have I mentioned lately that I am jealous of your life?!
Curious….did sir slumdog ever find out about these lovely bashes?
Short? I think that skirt looks totally cute on you. I wish I could pull that off. Sounds like you guys had a good time. Did Slumdog ever find out?
You must thrive on adrenaline.
I swear, I would have either a) had a heart attack b) had a migraine, or most likely c) just had way too much to drink in an attempt to forget about the impending wrath of Slumdog.
Oh, and c) helps a), but not b).
pinky is there an all of the above option cus i’m pretty sure all those things happened!!! hah. nerve wracking doesn’t begin to describe the craziness. THEN, we had to try to clean everything up before either my parents, or one of his friends “dropped ” by and saw the ridiculousness. UGH.
Susi – um pppssssh yea! we know how to do it over here.
v – rockford?
when im next in the US we need to catch up hehe i need to go to one of these parties!
i’m 78% sure i was at that party. what suburb of chicago do you live in again? or it could just remind me of the good old days of house parties. by the way, i’m house-sitting at my parents house in the northern burbs if you want to throw another 🙂
I never get invitations like that. But, I don’t have any friends nearly as crazy as you. Did you ever get carted away to jail or did Slumdog forgive you for your transgressions? I think you need a part three to answer these questions.
jen – are you implying that I”M CRAZY?!?! @#%$# You know, i have gotten alot of questions. i’ll address them at the beginning of the next post.
jill – actually kenny and i used to want to be party planners!?!? we always had the best themes and everything was perfectly coordinated. i believe the colors for that one were midnight blue and hot pink. it was pretty awesome.
candice- it would have been worth it!!! answers to come in the next post. and um, yes. kenny and i went out and got our first polaroid and couldn’t stop taking pics!?
Do you ever think maybe you should be a party planner?? But with the owner’s permission to use their house. Then you could blog about the events. I think I’m on to something for you…
Also, you go to a lot of trouble to get drunk. I like it.
dear god i wish i had known you back then cuz i’m pretty sure i would have flown down for the occassion. yes, and do tell…did slumdog find out? god i need a sugar daddy.
p.s. polaroid pictures = amazing
was the REAL Mr. Risky Business on the short list or the long list?
yorks – so many questions. my head is exploding. haha
linlah – I KNOW, right?
lola – like, i’m holding. i’ll address the questions next post. there are so many!!
Oh the power of persuasion, Miss. Brooks should change that grade.
Hold. On. Like Immediately. I’d like to point out that your party invite is on my bday. So that must proove the evil twin birthage. Just saying.
I also want to know if Slummy ever found out about tha party and how you got him out of the house for the previous pre Risky Business party.
Oh and I heart you and Kenny.
In that first picture…is that Tiffany Amber Theissan (sp?) or Paula Abdul?
bearman – sadly, i have no idea who that is. nor do i know who half the people are in that pic. haha
skye – UGH. i would have invited ALL MY bloggy friends had i known you.
steve – um.. yeaaah. it was originally supposed to be a small gathering..oops. black garbage bags so everyone driving by couldn’t see the carnage inside. and also so it’d be darker. lets just say it was wrong, all the way around.
Oh god girl, where have you been all my life? I’ve never been to a party like that, I’ve always wanted to and now I’m too old with children 🙁
Ok I will go one thing at a time
I had to take laughing breaks to read this
300 Invitations ACCIDENTALLY
Whats with the black garbage on windows
Why not dump Slumdog
Nothing inappropriate about skirt length
Hmmmm…Residential neighborhood …big party…
Wow…this is why blogging was invented….
Zman sends while I am still laughing
Pingback: Kenny Chronicles: Risky Doesn’t Begin To Describe This Business | Blunt Delivery
not sure if it’s the same party – but honestly, it definitely could be. a guy i was seeing took me to a party that sounds exactly like this one – how funny would that be? if i still talked to him (read: if he wasn’t a disgusting piece of shit i hope has kidney failure and dies a slow and painful death), i would ask him to give me more details, as i really don’t remember (likely alcohol induced amnesia).
seriously, though, totally sounds like it – and i would have been one of those rowdy smokers out back in 2006.
I’m bored!
You weave an amazing tale, Brit. And the crazy thing is, this stuff is true! Yowzers! And I thought my life as a thousandaire playboy who fights crime in the daylight was exciting.
george – fight crime? thats it?
i thought you at least had xray vision or something. that would be much more interesting – and beneficial in your case.
So….um….is there going to be a part 3? 😀