Did you hear about their party, the one they told no one to tell me of—as if that even should alarm me, or send me crying to the telephone, that they were throwing this big soiree, inviting everybody else on earth, and they conveniently forgot me, so they can chuckle to themselves.
Don't give a fuck about their party, pushing nerds into the pool, mixing mojitos at the barbecue like it's still 2002. I'm not going to their party: Too many asses just like you, with telescopes aimed at the sorority, with dopey 'staches to outdo one another.
They should call it a retarty. Some place where they can take their helmets and listen to the Arctic Monkeys, and shoot their shooters and their Jell-O. Yeah, they should call it a retarty. Bacardi floaters get ignited—tomorrow morning they'll be sorry. I'm glad that I wasn't invited to their dumb retarty, their stupid fun retarty. I'm not going to their party because their sorry party sucks.
from Platinum (2009),
released September 1, 2009
By Will Georgantas; Zivlizdin Songs/BMI.