I don’t know the exact demographics of Fat Dick Simon fans, but I’m willing to bet that most are creepy old dudes who come here for the free porn and stay for my detailed accounts of sexual experiences. If you are creepy and old, you are going to love this story because it is a detailed look into what happens at a sorority formal a.k.a. drunken madness that requires formal attire. I’ve heard about the mayhem that ensues at a sorority formal, but had never experienced it first hand until last night.

I should note (for the readers who do not personally know me) that I am not a creepy old dude who somehow landed an invite to a sorority formal. No, the age difference between my date and I was only one year AND she was over 18, so back the fuck off.

The night began at approximately 6:30PM, when I downed a bottle of champagne and mentally prepared for the night’s festivities. Obviously, the goal of everyone involved in a sorority formal is to get completely shitfaced before even arriving at the event. By the way, no one knows where the formal is going to be held. The deal is that you stagger onto buses and find out the location upon arrival.

Ask anyone and they’ll tell you that Fat Dick is no racist. I have the worst case of jungle fever known to man. However, before boarding the buses to the formal, I was pretty sure that we were all about to be abducted, raped, and then killed by all of the large black men working security and driving the buses. They really could have done all of the above if they wanted to. Luckily, they just robbed all of us and raped like two of the hottest sorority girls. Just kidding! They were cool.

Even though everyone is clearly completely wasted before boarding the buses, no alcohol is allowed on the buses. Why? I have no fucking clue, but I really enjoyed getting frisked by the large black men working security several times in a row. I also enjoyed chugging two Stellas in the middle of a Chevron station to avoid having to throw away full bottles of beer. Fat Dick don’t play that game.

Obviously, my date packed two flasks for the road. What a champ.

After a half hour bus ride, we found ourselves way deep in the San Fernando Valley. How deep? Too deep for comfort. I urinated in the sink of the bathroom because the line was too long for the toilets, ordered some drinks, passed on most of dinner in order to stay drunk, and then danced for a few hours. As expected, everyone was completely wasted and it was quite an enjoyable night. Enjoyable AND thought-provoking as I reached many conclusions about life, in general, which, for your convenience, I have listed below.

The Valley is Fucking Scary

This formal took place in the valley, and I was pretty uncomfortable for the whole night. Why? The valley is no Los Angeles, and consists mainly of shady businesses, halfway houses, and rapists. Don’t believe me? I wouldn’t suggest taking a trip up there to see for yourself.

Good Thing About The Valley: Cheap Drinks

I only paid six bucks for a mixed drink. In Hollywood, I probably would have paid around fifteen. Imported beer was five. I recall paying twelve bucks for a Corona one time in Beverly Hills.

Bad Thing About The Valley: Inexperienced, Ugly Bartenders

I guess you get what you pay for. At least when I paid twelve bucks for that Corona I got to watch some hot bitch uncap it. And when I paid fifteen bucks for that sex on the beach (not for me) I got to watch another hot slut mix it up. In the valley, you have to watch some ugly fat dude measure out shots for your vodka tonic.

I Know Every Word to Kelly Clarkson’s ‘Since You’ve Been Gone’

This was perhaps the most surprising realization of the night. I found myself on the dancefloor doing some sweet dance moves and yelling all of the words to this song. I was found out, straight up. It was cool, though. Everyone was so drunk they didn’t realize that I am actually extremely homosexual.

Sorority Chicks Become Remarkably Cool After Drinking Heavily

I’m not sure if this is because I become easily entertained after a few beers or if it is because sorority chicks do cooler stuff when they are drunk. Trying to figure this out led me to one of those ‘what came first the chicken or the egg’ conundrums. The bottom line is that I usually can’t stand being around most sorority chicks but I was actually enjoying my interactions with the sorority ladies I encountered throughout the night.

Roommates Are the Unsung Heroes of College Hook-Ups

Can we give cool roommates a fucking award or something? When most people think of college hook-ups they think of drunken frat parties and hot young bitches getting torn up by douchebag guys. When I think of college hook-ups I think of the major roadblock standing in the way of any successful college hook-up: the roommate. Upon arriving back at my place after the formal, I realized that my room was occupied, so I hit up my date’s place, but her room was also occupied. Then, out of nowhere, without being asked, my date’s beautiful, selfless, amazing roommate offered to vacate. What a team player.

Don’t get me wrong. Mother Teresa did a lot of cool shit. She helped out the poor and stuff, but did she ever offer up her room so a young couple could get down? I didn’t think so. Cool roommates are truly doing God’s work.

My Blog is a Really Fucking Big Deal

Starting this blog was probably my best idea ever. I am even more of a big deal now than I was before I started it. Gone are the days of repeating stories. Now all I do is post a story on my blog and tell people to read it. Usually I don’t even have to tell people to read it. A lot of people I don’t even really know make references to my blog postings. That is pretty sweet. Some people say I am funny. I don’t know if they are just trying to be nice, but I don’t really care. The blog kicks some serious ass.

So that is the rundown on my first ever sorority formal. I had a good time, and I wouldn’t be opposed to going to another one sometime soon, as long as it isn’t with the Jewish sorority. Not that I am an anti-Semite or anything, but I had an experience with one of their date parties earlier in the year that was about as fun as listening to the Matisyahu album all the way through.

This entry was posted on Saturday, May 20th, 2006 at 11:34 am and is filed under Crazy Party Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.