What is not to miss about the good old days of the trashy house party?
The cheap vodka, the drunken romances, the trashbags, the bisexual urges, the smashed glasses, the one person who spends more time spent in the toilet bowl than in actual consciousness, the lapses in memory the day after, the mess, the fun, the regrets, the laughs and not to mention the final vomit where the grotesque seediness finally disappears and you feel like you could do it all again right there and then.
Nowadays, decent house parties are scarce with the doof doof clubs and all - where you cant have a nanna nap on the couch mid party, where you can’t hear what your future pash is talking about, where you can’t go and steal the last beer from the fridge with everyone none the wiser and where you most definitely cant find a free room for some late night loving.
Last Saturday night, my best friend threw an impromptu house party as her parents are roaming the streets of Europe for two months. Last Saturday night, I rekindled my love for the good old fashioned house party, big time.
House Party, how I have missed you, and thank you - for all that you provide.
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