Party Protocol
by Angela Lovell How To Not Get Bludgeoned To Death - or Party Protocol For Bitches My
Boyfriend's Dick Has Been In.
Every now and then it happens: I attend a party with a boyfriend and
there in the crowd is some snaggletoothed slut he's had sex with.
Such a meeting can lead to disaster unless the two of us vag-bearers
understand a very simple protocol which has remained unspoken of
until now.
It would actually be best if you - the filthy skank -
hauled your whorish, unwanted ass out of there as soon as we arrive
in the afterglow of all the sex we have each day. But if you insist
on staying and ruining everyone's bathroom experience with your
smelly crotch rot, then by all means, follow this golden advice.
DON'Ts
1) When introduced to your ex's NEW and VASTLY IMPROVED flame, you
should never, EVER touch her. When two different hands have stroked
the same genitalia they should never meet, as the reversed magnetic
force could short out the party and then you'll have to feel your way
out of this nightmare in the dark as a wild-eyed woman stabs you in
the spleen with the lime-cutting knife.
In such an irregular
introduction there is no such thing as "rising above" your
circumstances and giving a warm greeting. Avoid eye contact with the
woman deservedly deemed better than YOU and keep your eyes to the
floor like the revolting and rejected cum bucket you are.
2) Hide your filthy ass. At all costs, tell only your closest friend
at this soured gathering why you're hiding on the balcony and do not
draw attention to yourself if you hope to avoid profuse bitch-
slapping. Hiding away like a filthy troll under a bridge will make it easier to avoid eye contact with the woman who wants to pull all of
your blonde hair out until you are bald and look more appropriate as
a creepy old man in that wifebeater you don't have the breasts to
fill anyway. It's a good idea to imagine yourself a flat-chested
antelope in hiding, while just around the corner waits a blood-
thirsty lioness who will stop at nothing to tear your throat out.
3) No matter how drunk you are on those fruity "shots" you and your
badly dressed fag have been preparing (wallflowers always blossom
into fag-hags), DO NOT whisper into the ear of your ex! I cannot
stress this DON'T enough! This will result in the quick removal of
your head, which will be replaced with a great pile of feces. Your
trailer-trash parents will not even have a disease-ridden carcass to
bury after all the kicking renders you a pile of unlovable pulp.
Whispering into the ear is an incredibly intimate gesture, and even
if you didn't deserve to die a painful and embarrassing death just
for having tried to take my purse to your friends room (no doubt so
you could rob me and buy laxatives), everyone will agree that you
deserve to die underneath my kickin-boots after this last offense.
4) Do not whisper to your pack of Hot Topic lovin' fags about the
woman you were dumped for. Just because she is the WINNER of not just
the man who drunkenly fucked you, she also won the Jumping On One Leg
Contest in Kindergarten which started her spree of stomping and
kicking wannabe-actresses like YOU to death. Talk to your friends -
the only DULL gay men in all of New York - about your waitressing
career, or how much you enjoy dressing just like everyone else!
5) Do NOT offer the girl you wish you were a DRINK. You will pull
back a bloody stump, if you pull back anything at all.
DOs
1) Do LEAVE!
2) Do contemplate suicide!
3) Do wear mascara because you're plain!
4) Do smoke a lot of pot on the balcony, gaining the acceptance of
other dull losers like yourself, until you feel gravity's call
(whispered in your ear) and plummet over the railing!
Hopefully you grasped this correct conduct without the aid of
diagrams or hand puppets for your borderline-retarded ass. But if you didn't, rest assured that I'm still going to grab you by the hair the next time we pass on the street and give your skull some serious
Hammer Time - I'm sure you've built up a healthy tolerance since your pimp beat you UN-pregnant anyway!
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See Also:
Bach And Bush Flowers
Health_MOT

PMS

Mentally Disabled Children

The Elixir Of Life
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Angela Lovell is an award-winning playwright, director, screenwriter, music/film critic, and Dailysonic.com podcaster. Once a writer at Universal Studios and MTV, she now freelances for magazines such as Match.com's Happenmag and High Times. Angela can be found in Brooklyn avoiding dairy products and petting strangers’ dogs. See her best side at: www.tickingboxes.com |
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