Fear and Loathing in Philadelphia: Part 1

Last Friday I headed down to Philly for the birthday celebration of two great friends – Dave Johnse and Scottbrundage.com (aka- Scotty Penisarms, SPA, Bryno). The annual birthday bash is a chance for approximately 20 great friends to come together at Mockubunkport, drink excessive amounts of alcohol, hug shirtless with no music playing, and frighten the everliving shit out of the clientèle of some extremely unfortunate Philly bars. The following recap cannot do the weekend justice, as I was merely one man in a sea of sick fucks. I apologize if I miss any critical details, but here is my best summary of Part 1 of the destructive events:

Friday

After arriving in Philly via Chinatown bus, I joined the devoted first arrivals (Scotty Penisarms, Dougcowan.net, and Gerry) for our first (of 3) viewing of Big Trouble in Little China, followed by a trip to Pat’s cheese steaks. Although deciding to take it easy that night, we still headed to the beer distributor to buy some suds and cases of Sparks. Yes, I just used the plural tense – we purchased 2 cases of 16-oz cans of Sparks. We then used the holy drinks to construct a pyramid devoted to the malt-alcohol-energy-drink gods.

As our tongues turned darker shades of orange, more and more party-goers arrived for the festivities.

Soon enough, I was challenging Mocku to a Sparks-chugging contest in the kitchen of his home. Mocku is essentially a bigger, blacker version of myself. He enjoys comic books, role-playing video games, and making a damn fool of himself in public. He can also drink sparks about 2x faster than me, leading to his dominance in the contest. What did the winner receive, you ask? Upon finishing his can, Mocku would rip the still-half-full can from my grip and down it in a quick gulp. Needless to say, Mocku was properly shitfaced by the time we left for the bar. This will explain many of his actions that will soon be discussed.

Right before departing, some of us managed to squeeze in a shirtless hug.

Obviously, no music was playing.

The walk to the bar was pretty uneventful, besides my friend’s face becoming semi-permanently disfigured. As I was having a great conversation with Nuno, Mocku bum-rushed me from behind, launching my forehead directly into Nuno’s teeth. The senseless act of Sparks-fueled idiocy resulted in two very unfortunate physical conditions:

Thankfully, Nuno’s tooth was worse than my forehead. Feeling bad about the incident, Mocku quickly darted off to the bar like a big, black, drunk version of Little Orphan Annie running away from Miss Hannigan’s foster home.

Our caravan of morons eventually made it to the bar, descending upon the doomed establishment like a plague of locusts. Here are some of the highlights:

• Standing near a posse of meatheads, I screamed “THIS IS THE BEST GAY BAR IN PHILLY!”, and was met by threatening glares and a stone-cold response of “This is a straight bar.” As I was locked in a stare-down with the neanderthals, Mocku stumbled over, proceeded to lick the side of my face from jaw to hairline (for probably the 6^th time that night), and walk away like it was no big deal. SPA then began humping the female version of himself (FemSPA) while yelling “Boys, boys, boys…”. The dudes realized that our homoerotic posse was rollin deep and quickly averted the death stares.
• A girl asked Dan Wilson “How old are you? You look like a Professor.” This girl has clearly never taken a college class. Unless, of course, she is pursuing a Bachelor’s degree in being ugly and desperate, because that’s the only material that Dan Wilson is considered an expert.

• I waited outside of the women’s bathroom, challenging unsuspecting victims to dance-offs. I also gave some random girl a wet willy, which she actually seemed to enjoy. Could it be love? Would my girlfriend mind? (Hi Ellie!) I mean, it’s not like I kissed her or anything. Oh wait, I did.

• Cheryl got into a near-fight (surprise surprise). Thankfully, FemSPA was around to frighten the hell out of the challenger. This just goes to show, the liabilities in our group were not limited only to males.
• Mocku walked over to the front window of the bar, licked it up and down, pulled his pants down, and rubbed his penis against the glass. Onlookers were mortified. I mean, it was just gross. Who knows what could’ve been on that window? Licking it is simply unhygienic.
• After some girls gave Nuno an attitude, he fired back by calling them obese. Nuno really enjoys giving relatively thin girls eating disorders. According to the Homeless Wizard, he “could see their souls shatter” after the O-bomb was dropped.

I’m sure I missed some critical details, but that about sums up our experience at the bar. Feel free to write in more highlights in the comment section.

Upon leaving the establishment, we were all greeted by a puzzling site out on the sidewalk:

On the walk home, we bumped into some underage college girls (hopefully high school) and convinced them to come back to Mockubunkport for our after-party. They huddled together on the couch, scared to death as people began running through the house practically naked, and eventually escaped our clutches.

Since daylight was quickly approaching, SPA, FemSPA and I jumped into a pullout bed to fall into a peaceful slumber. This explains why my crotch has been so itchy since the weekend. The weekend residents of Mockubunkport fell fast asleep, preparing for another day of foolishness.

Click Here for Part 2 of the Philly Birthday bash!