Where: 34th Ave and Union St

When: Fri Sept 24

There's nothing scarier than a surprise party. For the Suprisee, coming home to relax only to open the door to 50 or so of your closest friends and strangers screaming at you has to be a harrowing experience. Being forced to "live it" so to speak doesn't always seem like a fair birthday gift. But maybe that's just me.

This particular surprise party was in honor of one of Seattle's most well-known musicians. We'll call him "Herps" for short. Not surprisingly, the crowd assembled to yell at Herps comprised mostly local bands, record-label jerks, and bartenders/club promoters. Even with so many people from the "entertainment industry" present, though, things got off to a mellow start. That is until the beer bong arrived.

The other guest of honor was due home at 10:00 p.m., so that gave most of the partygoers an hour or two to pre-func, as they say in the business. (Pre-func, as in pre-function, is the act of getting fucked up before the party. Try it before your next all-ages show. You'll be glad ya did.) The bong was mostly filled with cheap beer (Budweiser, Pabst, and High Life) but the more adventurous dudes were also pouring in shots of Evan Williams (a shitty J. D. rip-off) and cheap wine as well. When the bongers upped the ante for nasty contents, the party took on a bit of Fear Factor quality. And that meant equal gender representation as well. The first woman blew beer all over herself and the bong holder, but her successors fared much better. One cute blonde took 10 seconds to finish the challenge as onlookers mixed commands of "Drink" with the more indirect "Tri-Delt."

A word to the wise, if you ever plan on hosting a party, make sure to have a beer bong on hand. The drinking tool is a great way to "turn that frown upside down" when you're not in the mood for a good time. One wise partygoer remarked, "If you ever show up to a party late and everyone's rocking out, just throw two beers and a shot of whiskey in the bong and you're fucking there." This particular beer bong was one of the nicer ones on the current party circuit, made by one of the guests after a quick trip to Home Depot. The bong even had a release valve so you didn't end up sucking down a bunch of foam.

It's amazing the ingenuity people show in trying to get fucked up faster. It's like prisoners in jail that brew pruno out of fermented fruit. Sheer boredom always brings advances in getting high. (Keg stands, knife hits, and gravity bongs are other excellent pathways to instant inebriation.)

The drinking games had to be stalled for a bit midway through this party, though. We still had to make it through the "surprise" portion of the evening. Herp's friends were in the difficult position of corralling the freshly drunk off the porch and into the house and trying to make them stand quietly for 10 minutes. This meant a lot of shooshing and "fuck you"s in the dark.

When the big moment came, Herps walked through the door on cue and was appropriately shocked. He even fell backwards through the front door.

With our one responsibility for the night fulfilled, it was back to business (i.e. beer bonging) as usual. The younger set sat on the porch with the plastic tubing while the older types retreated inside for karaoke. There was one spot-on version of an 'N Sync or Backstreet Boys song--but really, is there even a difference?

An hour later, people were already starting to pass out. Keeping with the theme of immediate drunkenness, one band dude explained he'd had "too many Long Islands before I came to the party," as his girlfriend aided him through the all-important water phase of his evening. That guy was one of the lucky ones. Another couple passed out in the living room and were both treated to an appropriately good tagging; a large cock on the face for him and various crude words on the head, arms, and legs for the missus.

Want The Stranger to crash your next house party? E-mail partycrasher@thestranger.com. And don't forget the beer bong.