The Art Of Coming Off Casual: Letting Your Neighbors Party

Let your neighbors party. I’ll say it again: let your neighbors party. I know I know, if this is about the art of coming off casual, shouldn’t you be AT the party?! Well um yeah, probably, but coming off casual isn’t about being a party animal (though it often comes with the territory you rascal.) The truth is, you can’t be at every party, and with summer nearly upon us, there are going to be a lot of parties. Expect it, prepare for it, AND DON’T YOU DARE CALL THE COPS!

This past weekend was Memorial Day weekend, a day for celebrating our troops the way they’d want, by getting dangerously drunk in a pool at a buddy’s house while slamming Mexican and Jamaican beers (I mean fuck it, Budweiser isn’t even an American company anymore.) and listening to stone cold gangster rap. Tradition be damned we’re celebrating the multi-cultural tendencies of this pretty great nation. How can you not support that? By being a dick about it like my buddy’s neighbor and alerting the landlord to the party and having it cancelled before it even started.

We’ve all been there, on autopilot rounding the final corner to your home, near salivating over that glorious couch with it’s perfectly formed buttock indentations that you perfected with your perfectly weird shaped buns, when all of the sudden, you realize, “Well holy shit there are a lot of cars on the street,” and as you hop out the car, “OH SHIT NO!” Stop. Count to ten. Why are you upset anyway huh bub? Does that party remind you of your youth when YOU used to party? Maybe it reminds you that YOU weren’t invited to the party (or were too damn good to go)? Maybe they’re partying in a different language and you find it both confusing and frightening; how about instead of calling the cops, call Rosetta Stone and learn some Spanish or whatever the case may be and EMBRACE ANOTHER CULTURE AS YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS. Also the food! My goodness this will only benefit you. Or you know what, maybe you’re upset because subconsciously you hate yourself for being a pawn in the failure that is the suburbanization of our once great nation; gone is the bond that congealed Americans whether they be legal or illegal, as a society – gathering together and getting drunk in a backyard. Or maybe you’re just lame. Probably that one.

Now I’m not defending the party assholes that want to go at it every weekend. I respect a person’s right to life, liberty and the parachute of happiness but for the most part, you have got to lighten up ‘ let them let it all hang out. Every house should be allowed at least one serious party once a month during the summer, with an option to three daytime shindigs. And of course limitless casual evening hot tub sessions. No cockblocking, it’s un-American. These are now the rules, abide. Let your neighbors party, after all, your neighbor might be me.