Drunkest Guy At The Party – A Song.

By Sam Hibbard, James Taylor & Oliver Green.

CHORUS

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Who knows what he’ll do.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Aren’t you glad it’s not you?

(Drunkest guy at the party)

His tee shirt smells of spew.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He can’t find his left shoe.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He’s pissing like a moose.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He didn’t flush his poo.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Says dodgy things about Jews.

CHORUS

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Who knows what he’ll do.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Aren’t you glad it’s not you?

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He’s quoting 2-Live-Crew

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He’s trying to fuck a ‘two’.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He just offended Sue.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He’s drinking stuff that’s blue.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He’s now completely nude.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

CHORUS

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Who knows what he’ll do.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Aren’t you glad it’s not you?

He broke your IKEA stool.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He just punched that old dude.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

He fell asleep on the loo.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Let’s cover him in glue.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Just be glad it’s not you.

CHORUS

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Who knows what he’ll do.

(Drunkest guy at the party)

Aren’t you glad it’s not you?

Selected Pop-Out Quotes From Penthouse Forum Letters Circa The 80’s.

“I slipped it in like a vote in Jesse Jackson’s ballot box. Right then, I didn’t care about the future.”

“She looked down at my throbbing inches devouring them with her eyes. ‘8 is definitely enough’ she whimpered.”

“Her pussy hair was shaved into a ‘V’. A really big serif font capital ‘V’.”

“My corvette revved it’s engine and the drive-in movie whirred behind us. Sophie’s choice? She chose cock."

“We heard the key turn in the lock. She unhinged her legs from around my waist and jumped to her feet – her hair leaving an impression on the pillow.”

“Right up the alligator strap of my wrist watch.”

Where I Write A Reminder On The Back Of My Hand And Go Out Into The World For The Day Wearing It.

Frustration™ Rules Of Play

Before reading these instructions to Frustration™ - tear instructions to Frustration™ up into tiny pieces and sticky-tape back together.

Getting Started:

Frustration™ is a game for 4-players ideally, each should be a different nationality and should not be able to speak the same language.

One player must be colour blind.

Choose a coloured 'piece' to represent each player – throw the piece out the widow and then search the house for something of approximate size to replace the newly lost piece.

Roll dice to determine starting order. Do not roll dice onto board. Roll dice off table and ‘call’ the number to the other players – argue.

If all players are present – one player must go to the toilet immediately. This is a good time for player to have a shave or try some new hairstyles out.

When all players are ready the starting player rolls dice moving his piece the corresponding number. Player must smash his/her piece down on the board so hard as to ensure the displacement of all other players pieces (throughout game). The starting player is then instructed to count the exact number of squares back again (repeat smash).

The next player must now stand, leave and make a phone call for no less than 25-27 minutes. Upon return player must relay entire content of conversation while talking like someone from (like) the MTV (like) hit The (like) Hills.

The next player must lose the dice down the back of the couch. Then moan and bitch about Frustration™ and suggest they all go see a movie or something even though the game is set up now... In the medium of mime.

Game Play:

If a Red Square is landed on the player to the left of the Red Square inhabitant must call and cancel said players Sky subscription and then make an appointment to have the Sky subscription reinstalled at a later date (sometime between 9am and 6:30pm).

If a Blue Square is landed on the player to the right of the Blue Square inhabitant must take said players car keys and mobile phone and go and lock them inside the player’s car. If no car keys substitute house keys. If playing a gypsy either will suffice.

If a Green Square is landed on all players must give inhabitant of Green Square really vague directions to a great party.

If Hexagonal Square is landed on player must get back together with ex girlfriend/boyfriend and constantly ask other players if they think it’s the right thing to do whilst ignoring any/all advice given.

If a 6 is rolled player must recount 6 scenes from any Will Farrell film and re-tell the scenes missing out some really obvious part that makes the whole scene actually work.

Rolling a 3 forces all players into a ‘joke-with-no-punch-line’ off.

Winning Frustration™:

The winner of Frustraion™ is the ___________ player who gets his/her piece to ___________ until all the ___________ have gone to the ___________ or are in the ___________.

NB: If someone looks like they are about to actually win Frustration™ please turn the instruction sheet over and begin alternate rules.

Enjoy

 

You _____________________ Ass Motherfucker 3

You-laughing-to-yourself-until-someone-asks-you- “What’s so funny?”-and-then-telling-them-some-thinly-disguised-boast-about-something-that-may-have-happened-fucking-months-ago-that –you-embellish-the-pants-out-of-because-you-need-a-widdle-boosty-woosty-since-your-girl-dumped-you-and-now-you-have-that-stink-of-desperation-on-you-and-women-are-starting-to-think-you’re-creepy-ass-motherfucker!

Dar Es Salaam

Alleys and dirt and bicycles and eyes and signs made by the blind and the sun and painted cars and us. In the middle of all this. Slow moving minute hands. Dead hour hands. Men everywhere. Women without a smile between them. Mobile phones, jandles, sandals. Scowling heat catching a break in sketchy shade from trees that look like photosynthesis is the last thing they want to do. Like their father caught them photosynthesising as a sapling and made them photosynthesis ‘the whole pack’. Black shining faces. Women with wide shuffling walks - in between somewhere they don’t want to be going somewhere they won’t want to be. Limp handshakes. Men with one AK47 between three. Who aims? Who squeezes? Buses tombstone above our car filled with staring faces. Alleys that would swallow us whole if we left the road into them – like the white lines are the blankets of our beds and the monsters under us know that anything under the blankets is ‘safe’. Portraits of a leader. No flags. Sun bleached blue paint. Finger smudged red paint. Tiles swept thin. Vinyl handbags. Vinyl belts. TV’s half on channel. The Indian faces that have come to symbolise ‘middle-man’ in every country I have visited. Nothing uniform – especially uniforms. Streets made with dirt and with sun and with slow deals and with nothing. The smell of coking fires at the airport. The dry mouths that could swallow us. Ungainly gone-ness through sheer numbers that spew out of those dry smoking alleyways. Hot and wide like toothless mouths with plastic bag dentures that cling to fences – caught by surprise like a boxers molar on a canvas… It’s nearly 10am.