The Game.

We all know it we all love it, it is the game that forced us to love the taste of beer weather we like it or not.  It is a necessity at every party no matter how big or small the rager gets.  It can become the main focus of the party who won or loss to who.  How long one team rained champs and who gets to play next.  The waiting list can be as long as the line for the new club downtown and if your name is on the list it is sacred.  As the names begin to be crossed off the the teams walk away in defeat you start to get excited and anticipation.  Then finally it is your turn to play and within two turn your done. Defeat.  And as you think about how long you waited to play and how long your game lasted you feel cheated but revenge will be yours because as you look at the list again your name pops up at the bottom with a new team you feel ready and anxious for your next chance at the champs hoping they will still be there when your turn comes around again.  The rules are subject to change from rager to rager but the basic rules are all the same.  It can cause fights over rules but in the situation of a disagreement of rules the final say goes to the owner of the rager.  It can be the highlight of your night and the reason you don't remember the night at all.  It can also be your escape from the stupid bitch upstairs ruining the party for you.  But in the end we all know it we all love it and we look forward to playing again.
Do you know what game I am talking about?

Party on Garth.

Drunkkkk texterwr;ougbaehpribguapi

So there is a serious problem when people, including myself, get drunk and try to text.  Texting is a simple task that everyone can perform thousands of times a day.  But for some reason when any amount of alcohol and texting mix the outcome can become hilarious, terrible, and in rare cases monumentally beneficial.  We all know that the truth comes out when intoxicated and hard to keep in when smashed drunk.  So we think it is a good idea to text our crush and profess our love for them and how they should come over at four in the mourning so we can "prove love".  And sometime this drunk texting booty call works,if the person receiving the drunk text is also smashed out of their mind.  But sometimes they are not and this is when our  conscious is completely shut up by another shot.  But at the time drunk texting seems like the greatest idea at the moment if only you could stop the "k" key from jumping around so you can spell drunk.  And once you finally it the fucking key, by closing one key and using your finger to randomly jab at the keyboard, you realize you have managed to hit 13 other letter that got in the way.  After realizing this you say "fuck it" and are too lazy to change the booty call message and send the the stupid thing.
Jump foreword to the next morning and while looking through your phone over breakfast you realize how big of an idiot you looked like trying to text last night. Oh you'll laugh at yourself seeing what you spelled and tried to say but after your delete the evidence and go about your day knowing that you're going to do it again tonight.
Party on Wanye