It's Like There's a Party in My Mouth and Everyone's Throwing Up

There was a kid (looked about 9-12) on the bus today that had a mullet. (The guy I'm assuming was) His dad was blind though, so it was party everywhere.

It was my neighbor's birthday last night. He's at the very least the fourth different person to have been living in that apartment since I moved in, the second to have a birthday party, and the first guy. Anyway, at 9:00 he informed me that he was having a party (as the basic 'hey, man, don't call the cops' (slightly less straightforward than that)), and by 10:30 people were slamming into the walls. Bemused, confused, and slightly annoyed, I went up to my door, looked through the whateveritis (I refuse to call it a peephole (wait... Dammit)) and listened to whoever was out there. After a while, the host staggered out, chasing (if you had seen the scene, use of the word 'chase' would be a lot funnier) a friend. Said friend was adamant that he had to leave, but he was no match for the host's wordplay. "Fuck you dude, it's my birthday. No, fuck you. Fuck you."

Inspired, no?

I should clarify that this rhetoric continued for a good thirty seconds. Moving on, I was fairly certain by this point that the aforementioned slamming into my wall had been this egregious behemoth, so I was satisfied with returning to the nothing I had been doing prior. Something actually fell off my wall at one point.

Fin