attending a last minute theme party with rhianna

involves:
. dressing up in a whore/pirate costume while already intoxicated
. immediately kind of regretting it around hoodlums, rough neighbourhoods and the liquor store parking lot.
. pretending to enjoy stories told by raging theatre/actor geeks
. finding conversation with a newly-ordained minister
. rhianna and i fantasizing about dropping our wine glasses over the 28th floor balcony
. actually dropping: broccoli, almonds, a poker chip, ruffles potato chips from a bag specifically taken from the host's kitchen for such a purpose.
. convincing other people they really do want to drop chips on things too
. exploring rooms and closets for people who're making out
. getting kicked out of one of the rooms by a concerned (nosy) citizen
. pointing out flaws in costumes (guy wearing what appeared to be a "pirate skirt" fashioned out of black cloth with white stick-figure kid riding a bicycle print)
. me, getting pulled around by my bra like it was the reins on a spring filly
. me, getting squished against the wall by the "pony trainer". not in a sexy way, either. ...at least not to me it wasn't.
. avoiding falling into an actual pool of water consuming half of the livingroom
. walking to the car amidst crushed potato chips
. waking up not remembering why people said i was awesome: just that they did. thanks for that, strangers.
. waking up remembering why i really shouldn't a) drink mystery pirate "grog" in a purple fountain b) pad such a drink with additional vodka (a lot of vodka)