Hey there, time traveller! This article was published 18/7/2010 (2624 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.
Man, did I ever get wasted at this party Saturday night.
OK, I didn’t. But 65 minutes of my life did.
Who crashed it? Whoever decided to turn it into an improv show.
Sorry for pooping the party, gang, but you kinda asked for it.
I mean, the horny British dude with the sunglasses and backward ball cap was wearing a T-shirt that read I’m a Genius, but he didn’t know what grad school was. As for the diva who didn’t know how to read the pregnancy test (she kept in her purse), and the itchy babe who kept telling everyone she thinks she has an STD, they’re not doing blonds any favours.
And what’s up with the four people who sat around drinking and moving their mouths, but never said a word?
Let’s do this again. After the hostess filled the toilet bowl with stuffed animals, I actually started getting into it.
Or maybe somebody spiked my Red Bull…
— Carolin Vesely
From the official Fringe Festival guide:
It's Saturday night, and there's a party.
An infinite number of choices and circumstances can affect the outcome of one night, but change one, and the night can change completely. Each (mostly) unscripted performance will show you how, with a mix of alcohol, secrets and scandals.