This isn’t so bad. Just me, my wife, and some of our married friends. Oh, nice, someone brought out Trivial Pursuit. That’s cool. Why do we have to break into couples teams? What if I wanted to play by myself? I don’t even get a say? They just declare it’s teams without asking anyone? What is this Nazi f*&king Germany? Fine then I’m taking off this sweater my wife made me wear. Don’t shoot me a look, I’ll take off my sweater if I want to take off my sweater, because I do what I want! Hmm, I probably shouldn’t take off my sweater if I want to have the chance of having sex later. Whoa, Bob’s wife has some huge titties. I really hope she rolls a six and has to lean over and move their piece to the Sports & Leisure square. Six! YES! Look at those things. I’m definitely going to think of those later if my wife and I have sex.
Am I wearing a sign that says tell me about your boring as f*&k job? I think if I go to the bathroom I could probably sit in there until like ten or fifteen minutes before 12:00 and no one would notice. I wonder how many of these glasses of wine have I had. How does a party turn from a party like this to one of those parties where we start screwing each other’s spouses?
Ryan Seacrest is a f*ckin’ homo! I’m gonna tell my wife that. Whoa, that did not go over well. Everybody’s looking at me all weird and shit. F*ck them. F*CK…THEM.
I’m takin’ this sweater off. I wish someone had some weed. If my buddy Roger was here he’d have weed and we’d "s" to the "moke" that shit. I need to get some air on the balcony, bitches. Whoa, this party next door sounds waaaaay better than this dumb party. Dang, there’s some girls in that party with some really big titties. I bet if I told that party Ryan Seacrest is a homo they’d laugh and shit. Not like my dumb ass wife who just has medium sized titties.
Duuuuude, yo soy boracho. Oh shit, it’s like one minute. Whoa, what the f*&k is wrong with Dick Clark? Ha, I’m gonna do an impression of him for everybody , that shit will be hilaaaarious. Whoa, that did not go over well. Way worse than the Seacrest thing. Shit, twenty seconds. I gotta find Bob’s big tittied wife and stand next to her and then she’ll be like "where’s Bob," and I’ll be like "right here, bitch." Great, here comes "Queen whiny bitch" otherwise known as my wife! Ha, I should tell her that one. That would probably get me out of the shit house for the Seacrest and Dick Clark jokes I made earlier. Nah, maybe not. Ugh, I’m not feeling so good. Feels like a ferret shit in my stomach. Ugh, oh no, here comes the wife, keep it togeth- BLWAAAAAH….I just threw up all over Queen Whiny Bitch. I feel like I should feel worse about that than I do. Oh well. Happy New Year, bitches!