If it ain't Baroque...
You didn't really think I was actually going to make such a horrible pun, did you?
I'm really blogging way too much lately. Maybe I'm becoming something of an egotist. Anyway, last night I went to this party, and I think there were probably a good 40 people crammed into this apartment, and most of them I'd never seen before in my life. Most of them the girl that I knew who lived there had never seen before in her life. A lot of them were these frat guy types, who I have to say are not my favorite species. However, my favorite drunken philosopher was there, so at some point around 4 am when we were all way past gone, a nice debate on religion broke out after the guy (who'd gone to Catholic school and therefore considered himself an expert on the subject) started critiquing Passion of the Christ. I'm also pretty sure that at some point he was trying to explain to someone else the difference between Renaissance and Baroque art, which I have to admit I know diddly squat about, so he could have been making it all up. The frat guys were running around "whoo"-ing and falling down, and we moved on to discussing politics. I think we got on the subject of politics when at one point this life-sized cardboard cutout of Bush came flying down the stairs, and we all stopped and just stared at it a moment, then someone stuck it up next to this guy who'd been passed out in his chair for about 3 hours. Of course when it fell over again there were all the requisite "ha ha, Bush is drunk" jokes. Um..what else. At some point this guy who I don't know but had seen once before at another party sat on my lap (and I was way too freaked to be interested) and started trying to convince me to play beer pong. Instead of trying to save me, my boyfriend just laughed. That's all I really remember, except that afterward the bf and I went to breakfast and they had a buffet, which was not bad, except I got into an argument with him when he tried to eat corned beef hash and I put my foot down.
Also, I managed not to steal the numbers off anyone's door.
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