An evening at the Venice camping ground acts as the theatre to a battle between the shining light of busabout and the bitter, weeping dark of Topdeck. Bedsheets and ivy. Expensive beers and Poker Face on repeat. Toga was the call, and toga we resounded. TOGA! TOGA! TOGA!
I am still amazed that toga parties seem to have this magical quality to them where just wrapping a sheet around yourself seems to make even the most hardened teetotalers down shot after shot until all personal dignity and self control is lost. Maybe it has something to do with Animal House. I am starting to think that maybe the directors of the hit 1978 film embedded subliminal messaging into every 163rd frame of the film, driving those who watch it to throw all caution to the wind whenever the word “toga” is uttered by a drunk overweight dude with a beer in his hand. I am very intrigued by an idea put forward by a few canadians of a “Pants Off Party” though. After all from what I’ve been told everything is more fun with your pants off. I’ll see what I can organise when I get home.
surely Sim getting one of these lovely ladies into bed wouldnt be so hard… they are already wrapped in a sheet and at least 3 sheets to the wind …… oh the humour, STOP IT
June 12th, 2009 at 7:16 pmYou’re building quite the vertical there simv. Although kicking the legs up does help
June 14th, 2009 at 4:37 pmi enjoyed the potential sideboob this night could have provided
June 16th, 2009 at 3:55 pm