 |
 | |||
|
|
| |||
|
|
 |
 |
|||||||||||||||
| CANADA'S SOURCE FOR HUMOUR, PARODY, AND SATIRE
SOME PRETENSIOUS PARTY-- Brian didn't want to go this party in the first place. Brian hates to wear ties, and he can't stand talking about dead philosophers, unpronounceable wines, or 18th century furniture. But since the only way he is going to get laid is to do what his girlfriend Colleen wants, Brian has to go to these "stupid" parties. "I don't give a shit about European pottery," said Brian, who would have preferred to stay home and watch the game. "I don't know squat about Kafka, and one clothing designer pretty much sounds like the other. They're all fags anyhow."
Brian tried at first to talk about sports with the men at this party--hosted by some architect boyfriend of a girl that Colleen works with--but the only sports they were interested in discussing were rowing and squash. "I swear, I've never seen so many men in one room that didn't know about football," said a surprised Brian. "These guys weren't real men--they were like the Stepford Husbands or something. It was like they were special-ordered to be docile and to serve women. I did all I could to keep from puking into the spinach salad when two of them started talking about how happy they were to be in relationships." Brian gave up the pretense of being sophisticated, cultured, or even knowledgeable after about twenty minutes. "I found out where the beer was," said Brian. "Or what I thought was beer. Oh sure, it tasted like beer, but the labels on the bottles weren't any that I'd ever seen before. Anyway, they did the job. It was then that I decided I was going to enjoy myself, so after killing a few bottles of the Moldavian beer-swill I cornered some guy with round glasses and a goatee and told him what I thought the San Antonio Spurs should be doing to improve the team. He tried to talk about Kierkegaard, but I kept changing the subject back to Tim Duncan. That killed a good thirty minutes." After an hour, Colleen was already completely embarrassed with Brian, despite his efforts to "blend in" with the crowd. She discovered he had wiped his hands on the guest towels (isn't that what they're for?) in the bathroom, made a sandwich out of the liver paté and biscottis, and turned off the Miles Davis so he could listen to some Green Day. "It's
a good thing this wasn't a dinner party," said Brian after the inevitable
fight with Colleen. "I'm sure I would have used the wrong f*ckin'
fork for the salad!"
|
||||||||||||||||
 |
|
|||||||||||||||
| This fictional story about satire is intended for adults. | The World Leader in Canadian humour, humor, parody, and satire. | |
| Tell us what you thought. Visit our Message Boards. | HOME | DISCLAIMER | ABOUT US | Copyright 2005-2001 The Toque Entertainment. |
