But have you seen this new underground party that being advertised on the New York City subway system? I hear that it’s one of the hottest new Thursday night events in years, and it’s called Darfur.

I know that right now you are thinking, “Isn’t kind of wrong of them to use a region in Sudan that is currently experiencing mass genocide as the name for their newest party?”

To answer your question, who honestly cares all that much about that when there is a weekly party at an underground club in the northern part of the western half of southeastern Williamsburg that has no sign outside to say that it is in fact a club, you must know which black door to knock on (HINT: it’s third from the right, with a red light above it), and you must know that you must know that there is a mandatory password to be said in order to get in (HINT: it’s GENOCIDE).

On top of that, when they have big posters using only words as advertisements for the parties using phrases like this one:

****************************************************

Here
Today.
Slain
Tomorrow.
Where?
Darfur.

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You know that this Darfur party must be off the hook; cause people are leaving it having been killed from previous parties. Their previous parties have killed! I’ve heard that the Darfur parties have been putting Rubulad parties to shame, and one party go’er was quoted as saying “Darfur parties as so insane, I’m never going back to another MisShapes party again!” Another partier was quoted as saying “I hope that this Darfur party gets written up on Gawker this way all of the real and faux hipsters not in the know already definitely get a chance to find out about the Darfur party! Yes, it’s that good!

I can only imagine that after a Darfur party you would need to crash on someone’s couch for at least three or four days in order to get yourself back to a normal enough mental level to ride a the L, and transfer to the 6 to get back to your real apartment in Murray Hill. Remember kids, too much booze and drugs = bad nights and even longer stays on a friends couch…four nights in a row is the limit on post party couch crashing.

How can anyone not want to go to the Darfur party?!?!? Other advertisements that I spotted were words such as “Mother”, “Father”, “Grandma”, “Grandpa”, “Brother”, & “Sister” crossed out. You know what that that could only mean one thing, and that’s that they are not going to be invited to the Darfur party, and not only that, if they would happen to show up, club security and club promoter George C’Looney wouldn’t let them in. If there is one thing club security guard / club promoter / party genius George C’Looney hates more than genocide, it’s gatecrashers to his hottest nightspots. Who in their right mind would want to be partying with their mom or dad around, YUCK!

Now that I opened this can of worms, I hope to see you all there on Thursday night!

I’ll be the guy wearing a white thong and painted green.