8/03/2007
You Think the I-35 Collapse Was a Disaster? It Was Nothing Like Kyle's Lame-O Party
Guest Editorial
By Nathan "Nappy" Jazubowski
People are going nuts about that I-35 bridge collapse that killed a bunch of Minnesota peeps and sent all kinds of cars into the muddy Mississippi and shit.
But that ain't NOTHING like the disaster that was Kyle Pemberville's wack-ass party last night.
Sure, the bridge collapse had missing people, but the 18 poor suckers that they can't find in the rubble just doesn't compare with the hundreds of no-shows at Kyle's place last night. He billed it as "The Bash to End All Keggers," and he promised tons of hotties, but the closest thing to booty I saw was Kyle's 14-year-old sister Amanda. I mean, she had it working, but braces and the Disney Channel are not my bag, you know?
And I know that the I-35W bridge is supposed to be "structurally deficient," but Kyle has that beat hands down. He's both mentally and financially deficient, and the dumb fucker thinks one keg and three bags of pretzels equals "party preparation." After I smoked this big bowl of Chronic, I had some serious munchies, and all I could find were those no-brand pretzel rods. What kind of a state of party readiness is that? I mean, sure, you can dip the pretzels in peanut butter or mustard or mayonnaise or stale salsa, but after that you are totally screwed. And having to sit next to some retarded ninth grader watching a History Channel episode about the rise of Nazi Germany pretty much blows, too. How about some pornos or music videos, Kyle-O?
Even stoners have standards.
Thus, while the Nappy-man recognizes the pain of the Minnesota families whose loved ones were so sorely smited in the I-35 collapse, I must hold fast to the assessment that Kyle Pemberville's party-of-epic-fail was a far greater disaster.
By Nathan "Nappy" Jazubowski
People are going nuts about that I-35 bridge collapse that killed a bunch of Minnesota peeps and sent all kinds of cars into the muddy Mississippi and shit.
But that ain't NOTHING like the disaster that was Kyle Pemberville's wack-ass party last night.
Sure, the bridge collapse had missing people, but the 18 poor suckers that they can't find in the rubble just doesn't compare with the hundreds of no-shows at Kyle's place last night. He billed it as "The Bash to End All Keggers," and he promised tons of hotties, but the closest thing to booty I saw was Kyle's 14-year-old sister Amanda. I mean, she had it working, but braces and the Disney Channel are not my bag, you know?
And I know that the I-35W bridge is supposed to be "structurally deficient," but Kyle has that beat hands down. He's both mentally and financially deficient, and the dumb fucker thinks one keg and three bags of pretzels equals "party preparation." After I smoked this big bowl of Chronic, I had some serious munchies, and all I could find were those no-brand pretzel rods. What kind of a state of party readiness is that? I mean, sure, you can dip the pretzels in peanut butter or mustard or mayonnaise or stale salsa, but after that you are totally screwed. And having to sit next to some retarded ninth grader watching a History Channel episode about the rise of Nazi Germany pretty much blows, too. How about some pornos or music videos, Kyle-O?
Even stoners have standards.
Thus, while the Nappy-man recognizes the pain of the Minnesota families whose loved ones were so sorely smited in the I-35 collapse, I must hold fast to the assessment that Kyle Pemberville's party-of-epic-fail was a far greater disaster.
Labels: I-35, I-35 collapse, I-35 disaster, parties