Hundreds of people inside the Evo snowboard store, most decked out in various neon duds, are glowing in the mild black light coming down from the rafters. There are DJs spinning, some sort of green-screen-karaoke-video thing, and all the free beer, vodka, and Vitaminwater I can drink. Most importantly, though, there are breakdancers. They call themselves the Fraggle Rock Crew, and they battle each other in a giant dance circle to the steadfast attention and cheers of the onlooking crowd. I'm sure I could have guessed this before experiencing it firsthand, but getting drunk and watching people flip and spin on their heads is a real good time.

After a rousing performance by Kid Sister and DJ Josh of Flosstradamus, and several Stoli Vitaminwaters, I find myself in a rather long line for the bathroom. I'm chatting with the gentleman beside me when a guy walks up wearing a neon-orange-stained dress shirt, sunglasses, socks, and no trousers. He begins sternly interrogating me and the guy I'm chatting with: "What are you two doing here? I'm an investigative journalist; I want to know your story," he asks with authority. "I work here," says the guy next to me. I look him straight in the eye: "I'm actually an investigative journalist. I'm reviewing this party for a newspaper."

He suddenly deflates. "Oh... dude," he mutters. "Ultimate cock block."

I look around. There are no girls paying attention to us. recommended

Want to spill your drink all over The Stranger's new white kicks at your party? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.

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