Flying Frankfurts and General Douchebaggery at Kids Parties

There's something wonderful about children's parties. Kids are remarkably social animals and I enjoy watching them interact. I like to try and work out the little cliques that develop and determine which kid is the glue-eating misfit who was only invited because his mother does yoga with the host.
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Watch Out! He's Going To Explode

By Andy Thompson, comedian (@AndyJTee)

There's something wonderful about children's parties. Kids are remarkably social animals and I enjoy watching them interact. I like to try and work out the little cliques that develop and determine which kid is the glue-eating misfit who was only invited because his mother does yoga with the host. I also love watching kids devour food they aren't normally allowed to eat. It's fantastic to see the look of glee on a child's face as they plunge their arm deep into a bowl of chips or back away from the table with a mouth and two fists chock full of sticky lollies.

Some kids do go a little crazy. Several years ago I witnessed a portly little fellow (who I had presumed was the designated glue-eater) tucking into cocktail frankfurts. It was an amazing sight to behold. He'd grab one, dip it into sauce and then shove it into his chomping gob as fast as he could. By the time his mother stopped him, he'd eaten a whole bowl. He went and jumped on a trampoline for a bit and the inevitable happened. He clutched his stomach, called out feebly to his mother and then let loose a voluminous torrent of chunky red swill. Kids screamed and parents shouted in disbelief. I stood there dumbfounded, staring at a lone sausage lying in the puddle of partially masticated crimson detritus. It was completely intact.

It was easily one of the most amazing things I've ever seen but it did put me off cocktail frankfurts for a while.

Click here to read the rest of Andy's stories.

Incubator For Douchebags

By Chris Begg, comedian (@cbeggformercy)

A while ago I had to take my son to a kids party. It wasn't a birthday party, just a dance party. The parents that threw the party had converted their lounge room in to a makeshift dance floor, complete with lights and a disco ball. To top it off, the music was all played from YouTube. This was a high class affair.

A bunch of 9 year old boys, dressed up like their favourite RNB artists, crunked and got jiggy with it as if they were Will Smith and Nicki Minaj's love child. They had their hats on backwards, their skinny jeans were sagging, and thought they were cock of the walk. You could literally see them transforming in to douchebags, and within minutes they were on the hunt for pussy, even though they were too young to know what pussy is.

The parents thought this was adorable, but they are another story all together. The women were completely fake towards each other. "Hi Jessica, long time no see! How are the herpes?"

For some reason, at kids parties there is always the older man that has to bitch about the kids generation. This older gentleman came up to me and proceeded to tell me what was wrong with the kids. "You see, the problem with this generation is that their parents love them too much. Back in my day we had to walk 12 hours in the snow with a gerbil up our arse for our love. And do you know how we knew our dad loved us? He'd whip us with his belt. You do that today and it's called abuse, but we called it love."

I can't wait for the next one.

Click here to read the rest of Chris's stories.

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