New Year's Eve 2005/06

I've tried to throw maybe 10 parties in my times. 9 of those sucked. Here is the story of the one that didn't.

Ah, December 2005. Just saying the date puts a smile on my face. My senior year of college, generally speaking, was one of the best times in my life. The first semester of my senior year of college was everything that all the others weren't. Drama-free, trouble-free, and nothing but great music, good parties, and fun times. Everything that your senior year should be. And for me, the only year that actually sort of went fucking right.

At the time my parents were renting out a ridiculously nice apartment in Manhattan, while their other ridiculously nice apartment was being renovated. Some old people let them stay there while they went away for half a year. It took me a hell of a lot of convincing and pleading and putting up with a lot of bullshit for them to finally agree that I could have a party there on New Year's. That may have been the biggest mistake of their professional careers.

To make a long story short, the place got absolutely trashed. Here is a rundown of the damages, which totalled more than $2,000 and resulted in a very pissed off older couple upon their return:

-My friend Casa Nova, who I will tell you more about later, puked all over the bathroom, and in the process ripped a goddamn towel rack off the wall while trying desperately to hold himself up as he puked in the toilet. Replacing this rack alone cost somewhere around $500.

-There was Silly String found on the underside of every couch, table, and surface in the house. First of all, it is beyond me that anyone would have the nerve to bring that silly shit to a fucking New Year's party. Second of all, whatever dumbass was using it didn't bother to spray it on the front side of the couches, where we could have easily cleaned it up, but on the underside, where it sat there and wasn't discovered until months later, when the very aggrivated permanent residents turned the couches over. A hefty fine resulted. And the perpetrator for this was never caught. Here's why:

• My party had the friend-of-a-friend mentality, so the large crowd that was there at one point included a number of punk-rock and Persian sketchballs, who had obviously been tipped of the party by people I didn't know. There were several objects missing, which attributed to the rest of the damages.

-And, funniest of all, there were very noticable splooge stains discovered on a treadmill next to my parents' bed in the room they were occupying. I grilled all of my friends for weeks about who had gone in there, until "C-Town" confessed that it was "two punk rock kids". A fair amount of the strangers there were friends of friends of C-Town's sister, who was still in high school, including the couple that had sex on that treadmill. Moral of story: NEVER tell a high school kid you are "having a party". For more on that, watch this.

You may be wondering, since it was my party, where was I to stop all this? That answer, my friend, is the heart of the story. There was a rather slutty sorority girl in attendance. She will be called "Dina". She was a guest of my friend and fellow writer "Phase". And like many of Phase's friends, she got around pretty often. And I ain't talking about Frequent Flyer Miles, if you know what I mean.

So midnight comes around, and then she plants me a big fat kiss. Wow, this girl is desperate. Wait til a couple hours later, when she is lying down on a couch, next to Phase's friend "Dude", when he calls me over. "Dude, come on over here". I thought there was some problem or something. But, he says to me "You gotta check this out", before getting up and pointing me to sit down next to Dina.

Before I know it, this girl is kissing me again. And this kiss was epic. Here's the rundown of how it happened:

-5 minutes into the kiss, I began to wonder why she was showing no signs of resistance, because usually by this point, most girls would have.

-10 minutes into the kiss, I pulled my camera out of my front pocket. I motioned my friend "Kadavir", who was standing nearby, to grab it and take some photos. He happily obliged.

-15 minutes into the kiss, I began to wonder why she hadn't at least kissed back or even moved from her current position in awhile.

-20 minutes into the kiss, I knew something was wrong. I pulled my lips out of her dirty mouth. I stood up and Dina fell into the spot where I had been sitting. HOLY SHIT! Had I just been making out with a PASSED OUT girl for 20 fucking minutes? In some states, that is technically considered rape.

All the while, who knows what was going on in the house, which I was supposed to be in charge of. OK, I just made out with this passed out girl, what can I do? In this case, I just left her there, for any of the sketchballs in the party to take advantage of. I had to get back to regulating this party, and also I had to take a nasty piss. Biggest mistake of the night. As I was waiting in line for my own bathroom, I encountered a very sketchy Persian kid.

I had never met him before in my life, and had no idea whose friend he was. Let's call him "Atta". Because he literally resembled the hijacker who supposedly planned 9/11. He was THAT sketchy. Here is my recalling of the following conversation:

Me: "Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing at my house?"

Atta: "It doesn't matter; what matters is that if that's your girl back there, why the hell are you leaving her alone like that?"

Me: "I'm just going to the bathroom to take a break. I'm going right back to her. But you didn't answer my question. Why the hell are you in my house?"

Atta: "Are you trying to start shit with me? Huh motherfucker?"

Thankfully, as soon as he said that the bathroom door opened and Casa Nova stumbled out, having just covered the entire room with an awful vomit stench. I was too drunk to even notice the towel rack had been ripped off. So I took a quick piss and came out to one of the most horrific sights imaginable. Casa Nova, sprawled all over Dina, his eyes still red from the vomit, essentially sharing my spit. Less than an instant after I was kissing her for 20 minutes.

So what did I do to him in this situation? Beat Nova's ass, like many more masculine guys would have? No. Even I considered that option, but instead I asked Kadavir for my camera back, and documented the whole scene. And according to C-Town, a closer witness, Dina might have gotten a more permanent reminder of Nova's semi-rape. In C-Town's words, "(Nova) was kissing her, then I swear to God, I saw vomit residue, or some substance, come into her mouth from his". Wow, that almost made me vomit just thinking about it.

But the most permanent reminder of the scene came in the form of the photographs that were taken. Within five days of the incident, they were all available to see on The Facebook. I really show no shame in anything. If something happened, it will be documented in the public domain, to everyone else's utter horror and my sick, twisted enjoyment. These were the days when Facebook Photos were a new and fascinating concept, sop I decided to push the limits as far as they would go. My facebook photo album "New Year's Blowout" included two close-up facial shots of me sucking face with the passed-out Dina, and then the capper- a picture of Nova, his body covered in vomit and Silly String, diving right in after me.

Dina saw those photographs and got livid. Let's just say she never wants to have anything to do with me or any of my friends ever again. She is most likely scarred for life. I have no idea of her story since this night, but it most likely involves thousands of dollars of rehab for her drinking habits and psychological counseling for the mental scars me and Casa Nova instilled in her.

Let's just say that my parents will never allow me to throw any kind of party ever again. I have gone against their word and attempted to throw a couple since then, which have resulted in absolute futility (no one showing up), and disaster (a manaical bitch who was not allowed in pulled a fire alarm and ruined my entire party the the following New Year's). Again, for some reason I was not there to regulate.

I guess my days of throwing house parties are over, because nothing will ever top the fireworks that occured before, during, and after New Year's Eve 2005. It will go down as the legendary party, the only one that ever went kind of, in some weird convoluted way, fucking right.

Edit: I have gotten a lot of responses from my old buddies about this story asking as to why I took down those aforementioned Facebook pictures of me and Dina making out, and Casa Nova sprawled all over her. One friend, whom I have not seen in three years, said that taking those pictures down from facebook "goes against everything I stand for, as a character and as a person". Well unfortunately for you guys, I am not THAT much of a sick twisted maniac. The fact that I am even writing these events down in a story for all to see is just about the most badass thing I could possibly do after this whole incident. Like I have said before I am dead broke and in no mood to handle a lawsuit, which "Dina" could easily press upon me if those photos were leaked, and I have recieved several explicit threats from her other male friends who saw the photos. This is not pussying out or a cop-out. I just believe that after all she has been through Dina deserves to have some privacy. I have much more morality and intelligence than many of you guys think.

New Year's 2006/07

Creeping up on a year after The Party That Didn't Suck, all my buddies wondered how I would possibly follow it up, since New Year's 07' was right around the corner. However, heading into December there was a huge obstacle towards ensuring that this year's party will be as much of a success: I did not have a venue. After the previous year's party, which cost more than $2,000 in damages, my parents would not let me throw a party on their premises Ever Again.

Investigating other options, I tried to find a hotel room I could rent out for the occasion. So I searched for hotels in Manhattan on New Year's Eve, and the cheapest one I could find was about 3,000 dollars or so for the night. Fuck that. I optioned off the idea to a couple of my friends of throwing their apartments into the ring. But given my recent proclivity towards unruly drunken behavior, and the likely presence of my friend Casa Nova, who was responsible for the majority of the damages of my previous New Year's blowout, none of my immediate friends wanted to touch the subject of hosting this party with a 50 foot pole.

I considered having everyone meetup at a bar. But given that every single hole in the wall, piece of shit bar on the island of Manhattan is packed to the gills on New Year's and charges an average of 8 dollars a beer and 150 bucks for an open bar package, well out of the price range of many of my usual crew, that option was quickly discarded. I was determined to throw a house party whatever the hell it took.

A week later, I got relief from the most unlikely of sources, my old friend Phase. Phase told me to hit up his buddy "Mo Schlub", who supposedly had a place of his own at the time uptown near Columbia. So I contacted Mo through his Myspace page (which apparently is the ONLY way to reach him), and asked him if I could bring the party there. Very reluctantly, he told me his place was OK to have a "small gathering" of mine and Phase's friends. I'm very sorry to say it, but pressing the "send" button on that message was the BIGGEST fucking mistake of his entire life.

You do not tell me to have a "small gathering of friends". You give me an inch, I will take a fucking mile. You saw what I did with a "small gathering of friends" the year before. I had already invited a couple hundred people to this "new years event" on facebook with the location listed at "TBA". Well I ran the good news to my group of friends, and despite the remote location of Mo's apartment, they were all in. So, I changed the "TBA" on my facebook account listing to Mo's house. I had no idea he had Facebook, but Mo was somehow alerted of the event listing, and he fucking freaked out thinking that over 200 people had been invited over to his house- which I would not find out til' much later. Whoops, didn't think that one through. That will become a common theme of this story.

So I spent the next week getting everyone psyched for the party and checking the guest list, anxiously waiting to see who would come through. But then, another major roadblock came to my big plans.

At the time, I had a part-time dead end job at one of America's top radio providers (I will not give their name, because they have subsequently fired me, and I would rather not have them sue me as well). How dead-end was it, you may ask. Basically it constituted me coming into a huge room in their office, pushing a couple buttons, and listening to a sports broadcast all the way through. That included pre-game, post-game, and intermission, the "rules" stating that there were absolutely no bathroom breaks and absolutely no usage of the Internet (a rule I disobeyed many times, leading to the both the birth of this website and my demise in the company.)

Every guy who was stuck with this job hated it and looked for any possible way out of doing it, because another aspect of this position was that it took away anything even resembling a normal weekend, with some games going into the wee hours of Saturday and Friday nights. My supervisors were miserable sacks of shit, and my boss "DeuschBag", well let's just say he lived up to his name.

When I started this job I thought doing weekends was bad enough, but I didn't think there was any way possible they could make me do holidays, especially not the biggest holiday of all. But lo and behold, two weeks before this New Years event I get a call from DeuschBag.

DeuschBag: "I'm gonna need you to come in and do a game on New Year's Eve.

Me (SD): OK. During the day is fine.

DB: No, I'm gonna need you to come in New Year's... at night.

SD: But I really can't. I already have plans.

DB: Do you wanna keep this job or not? I have a line of guys looking to replace you. Since you're a newcomer you're expected to step up for us. We have a system of loyalty here, you gotta pay your dues and maybe I'll let you off next year. So what's it gonna be?

SD: No... I... you can't....

DB: That's what I thought. I'm putting you on the schedule for Nuggets vs. Kings, game starts at 9:30 PM, pregame at 8. See you" (click)

No, no, NOOOO! This can't be. I have to work a job that STARTS at 9:30 on NEW YEARS EVE? So basically, I can't be there for my own fucking party! That is just great. And ultimately, I would not even stick around at the company long enough to be there for "Next Year".

I Emailed a bunch of co-button pushers who were stuck with work on new years also and asked if they could take the night shift, but every single one of them shot me the same question right back: Can YOU fill in for ME on New Year's? Some of them even offered me bribes of up to $50 to take their shifts. Um, I already got my hands full. Thanks for the help you fucking tools. Not like I have a party to regulate or anything. See you in hell.

I considered just not showing up for the shift, but weighing my options I considered this company's potential stream of barely sufficient income in the next year more important than making sure nothing bad or catastrophic happens at this party. So I reluctantly agreed to do my duty at work, maybe have a couple of secret drinks to numb the pain of being there, get the fuck out as soon as I can, and find a regulator for my party to keep everything under control until I arrive.

I considered asking Phase, since he had previously thrown the legendary Berwyn Massacre, which can be read about more on his site. But Phase notoriously did not get along with several members of my entourage, making a culture clash seem imminent with him in charge. Phase was born and raised in a very affluent area of the city and came from an elitist private high school, whereas all the members of my crew are downtown boys who have "nerdy" and "artsy" tendencies that do not go over well with his kind. On the flipside, members of my downtown crew think Phase is superficial and only chooses friends who are good looking and sociable or funny. As for girls, they percieve him to be degrading and disrespectful to those who aren't attractive. So in order to avoid opening that controversial can of worms, I just decided to leave Phase to do what he does best: Phasing.

Next in line was my buddy Panic, the only other person in attendance who had any experience regulating a party whatsoever. He is an easy-going guy who can break the ice easily with parties and groups he does not know. Besides, he attended the same college as Mo Schlub, so I thought maybe that would let the venue host feel more at home. Panic was also responsible for more than 50 % of the confirmed attendees. So Panic it was.

I called Panic, told him the bad news about my job, and assigned him the task of regulating until i got there. He replied "Damn, that sucks man. I'll see what I can do". Typical douchebag response, but given the dire circumstances present, I'll take it.

So New Year's Eve came around, and Panic led all members of our crew up to the outskirts of Harlem and completely took over Mo Schlub's house at around 6PM. Meanwhile, I was holed up in some cubicle in Midtown, and armed with a flask full of vodka to make the time go quicker, I went to work. The joke is on my supervisor that I was never caught. And wait I did, through the most boring game of basketball I have ever listened to. Every minute of the game seemed like an hour, knowing that all hell could be breaking loose at my party uptown. I asked Panic to call me with updates periodically, but every time he did, there was so much noise around that I could barely hear a word he was saying. Thanks.

Then, about halfway through my shift, I got a call from an unknown number. I picked it up, and it was from some chick. She introduced herself as CockTease, a girl who had come to my party the year before and definitely earned her nickname by teasing every single male at the party. Including my friend OverweightDate, making her the first girl under 300 pounds he ever had a crush on. This girl was also a facebook photo whore of the highest magnitude, obnoxiously annoying and carrying some serious emotional baggage. Therefore, NONE of my friends liked her.

I wondered why the hell she was calling me- for i did not remember inviting her. She affirmed that yes, indeed I did invite her:

CT: "Hi, I'm outside your party, and no one's letting me in

SD: I'm not there right now, I can't.

CT: Could you please send someone downstairs to let me in?

SD: Maybe

CT: Please, pleease" (click)

Whoops, my phone just died. That's just great. I still have at least an hour left in this fucking game and I have absolutely no means of communication to my own party.

The second the final buzzer sounded, I immediately ditched all post-game coverage (My apologies to the maybe 5 people nationwide who actually give a shit about a basketball game on New Years Eve), made up some lie to check out with my supervisor, and got the fuck out of there. I took a $20 cab ride up to the party site, because I did not trust the subway on New Year's 20 minutes before midnight. I finally walked through the door almost exactly at the stroke of midnight, and my friend G immediately ran up to me, almost white with exhaustion. "Dude, thank god you're here. All hell has broken loose". Instantaneously, Panic ran up to me as well, a hysterical look on his face: "Where the fuck were you? We tried calling a million times. Oh my god, this is so awful. WHERE the fuck have you been?" I had to explain to everyone, for the ten billionth time, that I had to work. Then, I cornered Phase, and since he seemed like the soberest man present, I asked him to recount everything that went down. In order of catastrophe, here is what I missed:

-Casa Nova had been drinking at an alarming rate, and he seemed almost destined for a repeat of last year's performance on the toilet seat. This was one subplot that was yet to hit its climax.

-As he does every time me or one of my friends throws a party, "OverweightDate" randomly showed up, and annoyed the piss out of everyone when he would not shut up about how much he needed to use a computer to check a certain fat people dating site.

-Among the large entourage of people Panic had bought to the party were four rather JAPpy Long Island girls, who were Panic's groupies. One of them, DrunkJAP, was incredibly intoxicated by the time she got there. As he usually does, Phase immediately approached the most vulnerable one out of the four and had struck up a decent conversation with DrunkJAP in his usual Phasing style, when all of a sudden, with no warning she passed out right onto him. Her three friends scooped up her corpse and looked to find a bed to lay her down on. Mo Schlub, being a wise host, had locked his bedroom door before the first guest arrived. However, being the criminalistic ones, Panic's team of JAPS picked the lock, BROKE INTO his bedroom and plopped DrunkJAP down on his bed. Because he was too busy dealing with all the other drama at this party, Mo decided to send his girlfriend, NastyPenguin, to take on the three of them and get them out of there. A destructive three-on-one brawl nearly broke out, if not for Panic standing in between the conflicting parties and literally pleading for the warring factions to break it up. I mean seriously, what guy tries to break up a catfight? I guess that's what I got for telling him to regulate.

-Tensions between Panic's posse and Mo Schlub's camp erupted further when Panic's roommate "BroncHorse" had beef with Mo for absolutely no reason. Apparently it was a feud that began at the upstate NY college they both attended, and escalated when Mo pointed to BroncHourse and told Panic to "get that sketchy fuck out of my house". Upon my arrival, BroncHorse went into a profanity-laced tirade about how badly he wanted to "fuck Mo up" if he ever saw him on the streets of their upstate NY campus. Fortunately BroncHorse was courteous enough to not fuck up the host in his own house, but as a token of his appreciation he jacked three bottles of wine from Mo's family fridge. BroncHorse is generally a cool guy, but on this night I guess he wanted to live out his reputation of being "The Sketchy One".

-But most importantly of all is the story of CockTease. If you remember that I said all my friends hated her, I mean EVERYONE. And no one possibly thought she would be there. But lo and behold, she was one of the 300 or so names I clicked on facebook in promotion of the event. So what did she do? She showed up with 10 DUDES. There was already a dude-heavy ratio at the time, and if all of her entourage were let in not only would the party be overcrowded but a total sausage-fest. When news of her presence at the door surfaced at the party, absolutely no one wanted the responsibility of letting her in. Upon a coin-flip or something, it was decided that AliPants, a high school girl who was part of my friend C-Town's crew, would be the one to deal with her.

So AliPants went up to the party door, recognized CockTease through the peephole from the previous year's party, remembered that absolutely no one liked her, and opened the door to TEASE her entrance into Mo's apartment, before slamming it right in her fucking face! What can I say about AliPants, she definitely dispelled my long-held notion that drunk high school girls can't think on their feet!

Not one to admit defeat and go back to where she came from, what did CockTease do? On her way out of the building, she pulled a fucking FIRE ALARM, putting Mo and all the partygoers in a state of shock. A fire truck even came by the site of the party, and it's a miracle this shit was not broken up. Because think about it- working men in uniform and a crowd of partially underage kids drinking booze do not mix.

But by some miracle and bizarre stroke of luck, this party literally survived fire, brimstone, hell and high water to last until my entrance. Once all this had finally sunk in- I decided that having to work on New Year's Eve, and my party turning into a state of disaster, constituted me really needing a drink. So I gave my camera to my buddy Sportskid, one of the brave revelers who had stayed through all of this, and told him to film me as I hoisted a handle of vodka, screamed something to make everyone pay attention, and chugged the shit out of it for a good 10-15 seconds. This video can still be found somewhere on the Internet

Immediately afterwards, Casa Nova grabbed the same handle and tried to out-chug me. I tried to head into the bathroom and take a piss, but Nova beat me there. And sure enough, what did I hear? That's right, Vomiting. This whole scenario from the year before had repeated itself. Instead of waiting for Nova to clean himself out, I decided to drink some more and survey the damage. I went into Mo's bedroom only to see DrunkJAP passed out, surrounded by all her friends, as well as OverweightDate alone in the corner, completely bumming Mo's computer without permission to look at, sure enough, that certain fat people dating site. Why he ever made it into my group of friends is beyond me.

I went into the living room to see Panic HOOKING UP with AliPants. Despite their 7 year age difference, and certified pedophilia status in select states, I guess it just felt right at the time. Insert your own jokes there.

Then, I challenged Phase to a drinking game or something. This led to a dare by Phase that I would wrestle his friend Smokey, who was not in attendance. Drinking at an alarming rate myself, I thought Phase was daring me to wrestle someone at this party. Maybe an hour later, I would get that chance, when Mo Schlub brought his friend "TheBenj" through the door.

At this point I was blacked out so I have no recollection of this, but according to Phase I raced up to The Benj and with shot glass in hand, challenged him to a wrestling match on the spot. TheBenj responded "I don't know this kid, he's drunk. Why should I wrestle him?" But apparently, everyone in the party pressured him not to be such a pussy. After all they had been through, they sure could use some decent entertainment. So I put him in a headlock, he pushed me into Mo's table, and we both fell on the ground, but luckily I landed on top of him, yielding a pin-fall victory. I really wish this had been captured on film as well, because according to Phase it was like "watching 2 drunk monkeys fighting for a banana". I won the match, in a blackout. Impressive.

But Mo Schlub was not amused by these two titans of drunkenness going at it in his house, and he deemed me too much of a menace for my own party! Together with Panic, he assigned Phase and Sportskid to take me home safely before any more damage occured on his house. Poor guy.

The three of us took a cab back to my house, and I walked in stumbling, my stomach about to explode. Several slices of BBQ Chicken Pizza I had eaten earlier were coming back at me. My last conscious memory from this night is Sportskid and Phase struggling to direct me towards the toilet, where I unleashed a hailstorm of puke. According to Sportskid, I began my first wave exactly as my mom was coming downstairs to check on me, so I was like "Oh, hey mom, BLAAAAHHHH!!"

Apparently after the first and second waves were done, my mom combined with my two brave escorts carried my lifeless body off the toilet and onto the couch, where I made another bloody mess a few seconds later. Then, the three of them combined to carry my body up a full flight of stairs to my room and throw me into bed.

My first clear memory of 2007, it was morning and all the sheets on my bed had been removed, because apparently there was a fourth wave of vomit which demolished them. Then my mom came into my room and gave me the words "Don't you ever, EVER, EVER, do that again." My response: "Shut up. You don't need to convince me there."

Afterword: Upon reading over this past story, for the first time I feel some kind of regret towards all I put Mo Schlub through that New Year's Eve. Mo has subsequently canceled his Myspace, leaving no possible means of communication with the outside world. Therefore, I have no way of expressing how sorry I really am after all this time. And let me tell you, if all that crazy shit happened at my house, you're damn right I would cut off all contact with society and go into exile. But maybe someday, if this website becomes big enough he will read this, and we could just bury the fucking hatchet and I could just say "Dude, I was wack".