My Big!Big!Boss throws house concerts, in which they basically host a concert at their house and charge admission. It seems sensible, assuming they have a big enough house, because they pay real musicians a decent fee but overall admission is less because there's no venue charge. I think the only people who profit are the musicians.
I would not be comfortable paying a cover charge for a private party unless there was an explanation about charity involved. Especially if I was already a little uncomfortable because I had to find a costume.
We used to call the living room rug the Vomit Magnet, because in an apartment full of gleaming, yet easily cleaned wooden and tile floors, the cats would inevitably choose to go get sick on it. In fact, once in a while you would see a cat rushing towards it, cheeks bulging....
Well,
yeah.
Otherwise the vomit splashes.
You know, I've been up for two hours. You would think it would have occured to me to turn the heat up instead of sitting here and being cold.
I'm going to blame it on the grogginess.
The bruise I had that itched was infected. It was also tautly shiny and hot, so I wouldn't worry if yours only itches.
The only time I've been to parties where there's a charge at the door was (1) college, to cover the cost of the keg[s], and (2) charity fundraisers, but the invitations for those say it right up front. Weird.
GodDAMN it. I think I fainted.
Have I mentioned recently, hating my body?
WTF, ita! Do you need some assistance or something? I could come over.
My experience of fainting is that you usually know it. (I have this charming thing where I get hot and dizzy, followed by my vision closing down like a television screen as it's being turned off. And then, on the floor! Luckily, I have not done this recently.)
Abducted by aliens, that's a little more ambiguous. Blow-darted by secret operatives determined to recruit you into their nefarious army, harder to say.
Have you had breakfast?
