4 August 2007 - 0:00Pat-a-palooza 2007.

Every so often, there is an event that occurs that can hardly be described without the use of sesquipedalian words so monumental that the average ignoramus reading this web page is forced to shit his pants in agony over his inability to comprehend the magnificence of the event. While any day I wake up and swing my massive nuts out of my bed of hot sauce drenched scorpions conforms to such an event, it just so happens that there was a gathering which garnered the same sort of awe inspiring jaw droppage recently. Thus, I, the Great Rigolega, deemed it necessary to impart the myth of the aforementioned event, subsequently known as Pat-a-palooza.

But since the audience that reads this page can hardly elevate its own fly without getting its collective cock caught in its zipper, let alone elevate its vocabulary to a level slightly higher than the average hobo, allow me reiterate (that means re-say it with smaller words, you morons): Pat-a-palooza was the fucking tits.

Before you mistake Pat-a-palooza for the aural holocaust that is Lollapalooza, let me reassure you that the former was more tantalizing for the senses than Turkish bathhouse whereas the latter is a constant reminder why the human race is doomed to a lifetime of suckage. I stumbled into Pat-a-palooza while walking around without a shirt, drinking 95% alcohol by volume whiskey mixed with the sweat and tears of virgins and children. The first thing I noted were two chums of mine, Pedey and DaltonB standing on the porch of my buddy DTrain’s house. When I asked them in a deep, bowel moving grunt, what they were doing there DaltonB spat a stream of pure American tobacco and grunted back: “Bouncing.” Then, from out of nowhere, Pedey roundhouse kicked some asshole in a pink shirt through a picture window and proceeded to kick the shit out of him. Then he grabbed some chick’s tits. Her boyfriend got pissed, so Pedey ripped his throat out. Then he threw the guy up in the air and teabagged him across the street into a group of elderly power walkers. He then proceeded to recite the three rules of bouncing from Road House (which is the best movie about bouncing and shit kicking this side of the Mason-Dixon line). Pedey successfully completed introduction to ass-kicking within the first 30 seconds of my arrival. After he brushed himself off and lit a fat cigar, he turned to me and said, “So will you put this on your web page? Huh? Please? That was so worthy of it.” I shook my head in disappointment and proceeded into the backyard. I dropped my goblet of children’s tears in the shock of what I saw.

No, it wasn’t plethora of drunk, hot chicks rubbing their tits on anything with a pulse; it wasn’t the eight kegs sitting out on the deck, begging to be tapped; nor was it the over-the-hill classic rock cover band playing on the lawn. While all of these were impressive in their own right, the thing that made me drop my testicle enhancing elixir was the presence of a real life, stinky and sloppy bum. “Holy shit! A bum!” I proceeded to shout, shaking him by the shoulders and demanding he regale me with tales of his bummery. People noticed the bum and started taking pictures with him. One guy rode him like a horse. Three people fought the bum. But all he did was stand there, smoking his tightly rolled cigarette, bobbing his head to the band and, as all bums do, pissing himself. After a short time, I got bored with the bum, so Pedey threw him out in an impressive manner. It gave me a mild but not life-threatening boner. I nodded in approval. Pedey nodded back and, lighting four cigarettes at once like a real man, he spat and said “Come on dude, how awesome was that? You definitely have to put that on your site.” Again, I shook my head and walked away.

After a few hours of sitting around, flexing my massive pecs and springing critical wood at hot chicks, I joined DaltonB on the front porch to discuss the finer points of anal sex with three chicks at once. While in the midst of a discussion concerning the morality of “Ass-to-Mouth Economics,” we noticed a guy stumble out of the alley. He couldn’t walk on his own and was bleeding profusely from the head. He fell down and began puking all over the lawn, getting vomit in his head wound. Now, I did what any sane human being would do in this situation: I laughed until I sharted. DaltonB, being a good bouncer, picked him up by the scruff of his neck and threw him through an oncoming car’s windshield and told the driver to “drive until he didn’t have any gas left.” No one messes with DaltonB, primarily because he’s 6′4″, 350 pounds of ass kickery, which is why it took three chick to blow him after this display of manliness. I retired to the backyard once more and met up with my friend TheSister and her friends TheMarried and TheEngaged. TheSister was being hit on by several guys, all of whom retreated when I shot them optical impetus; my glare is the substance of children’s nightmares. However, there was one doughy guy who kept up his (sorry excuse for) game. Figuring he could do no more harm than chafing his pud when he went to rub one out in his parents’ basement later that night, I didn’t interfere. Gentleman, a piece of advice: if you feel awkward around a woman and think she’s not interested in you, you’re right. She’s interested in me, so go jump nose first in the trough. You might pick up a pig there.

After an hour of shooting the shit with TheSister, I walked around to continue my conversation with DaltonB. However, he and Pedey were in the midst of an argument with some prick and a few girls who wanted their money back because they “weren’t drinking.” Pussies. Like real men, DaltonB and Pedey were having none of it and drop kicked the prick through a brick wall. Then they titty slapped the girls into orgasm, and they left. I nodded my approval once more. Pedey flexed a gigantic biceps and looked at me with a glare. As he opened his mouth I said, “Don’t. Listening to you is like listening to a deaf girl masturbate.” He nodded. I nodded. Then he fucked a deaf chick.

After this display of bouncing that would give The Swayze a woody, DaltonB was relieved from his post and went home to bang six chicks at a time (I assume). After a couple more hours of maneuvering my boner through the throng of hot chicks and making sure TheEngaged wasn’t raped by a scum, a fight broke out. I looked for the bum, but he was long gone. As it turned out, two brothers started throwing punches at TheSister’s cousin. Naturally, they had their asses handed to them because while everyone was flexing his beer muscles, I was throwing javelins through torsos. Pools of vomit and blood gathered on the sidewalk while drunk women rubbed cocoa butter on my triceps. I commanded that they gather me a goblet of virgin tears and even with all the crying they did over their amazement of my presence, not one could drop a virgin tear in my goblet. Cunts.

Ten minutes after my javelin throwing spectacle, officers of the law showed up, firing bullets wildly and for no reason. I deflected the bullets with my nuts, but a few ricocheted off my pubes and found their way into anyone with a popped collar. TheSister, TheMarried and TheEngaged and I walked out and began the trek back to TheSister’s house. About a block from her house, we noticed we were being followed by someone in a gold sedan. Nothing screams “I rape strangers” like a gold sedan. The girls were getting nervous, but I remained calm. As he rolled through the alleyway where TheMarried’s car was parked, the sedan crept towards us. They all piled into the car and I stood out in front of it. Hand on my zipper, I was prepared to whip out my nuts and crush the sedan with the force of a thousand gang rapes. But before I could, the sedan elevated and was tossed fifty feet away, where it exploded into a towering inferno. I turned and saw Pedey standing there. I nodded in approval and he said, “Dude, when you put that on your website, make sure you tell them how awesome it was that I threw that car.” I nodded as I ESPed him a vasectomy.

In short, Pat-a-palooza was an arousing success. Nothing can ruin anything that has eight kegs, hot drunk chicks, Road House-esque bouncers and Rigolega’s huge nuts all in one. Not even the homeless.

-Masturbating deaf girls moaned when they heard…erm…signed about Pat-a-palooza.