hi readers. i was really upset and sad and going through a hard time when the newsletter got cancelled, but i want to thank everyone for writing me all of the supportive letters and getting me back in my saddle. i know i am truly meant to be a world-renowned journalist and all of you loyal humans reminded me of that fact about my destiny. i am very excited to be here in my new digital home and hope that you will all enjoy being able to access my quirky, insightful and unique take on the important happenings of the world around us all on your home or work computers or telephones. it has been one heck of one long stretch of time so i have a lot to share. but i want to assure everyone…i am here to stay!

in case you are unfamiliar, here is my bio:
hello. i am a young, fun-loving, opinionated journalist and human who is very happy to be a part of the award-winning mishka bloglin team. please enjoy my message.

boyparty reviews: hard-hitting, up to date reviews of popular culture, everyday life and my memories. i use the pseudonym because it reflects my personality and also because i am uncompromising and it protects my integrity. sometimes i will have themes. today i will talk about cuisine, the weather, music, and an adventure. here we go!:

today’s weather: I don’t know, I’m staying inside. they’re showing Batman and Robin on FX.
hot wings: !!!!!!!!!!! satisfying. fuel for living right.
this hangover: a purple acid cloud with occasional pangs in my liver or appendix. walking it off.
yesterday’s hangover: a thin gray mist intermittently rolling over me, parting, then rolling over me again.

the crowd at Dallas BBQ last Wednesday: older, stately, sipped frozen beverages and rallied together against a grumpy infant who was not at all chill and wrecking everybody’s smiles.
the general ambience at Dallas BBQ last Wednesday: felt like an outer ring of heaven. hazy cloud of euphoria descended once they kicked the baby out.
Emily, my server at Dallas BBQ last Wednesday: a nice girl, not yet living up to her full potential as waitress or human.
my margarita at Dallas BBQ last Wednesday: bulldog style – the correct decision. spectators were jealous, followed suit, couldn’t handle it.
that tip is included on the check at Dallas BBQ: :/ please cool it Dallas BBQ.
the restaurant chain Dallas BBQ: fair service. okay patios.

Guy Fieri:
the onions in my philly the other day: grilled to perfection. paired well with coffee. really made the dish.
avocados: dreamy. magic earth butter.
February: mild.
the spicy lamb from yesterday: a surprising hit! the streets were in love! next time even more hot sauce.
eating subpar wings alone without your friends in the semidarkness: :(

the hypothetical band name attitude adjustment: juvenile. sell it to the disney channel.
the hypothetical band name second cumming: i think i don’t get it. what is the joke here?
the hypothetical band name daycare sex abuse scandals of the 80s: a little long but we can do something here. how about we bump it up to present day?
the hypothetical band name coprophagia: had to look this up. gross.
the hypothetical band name sister fucker: vulgar, controversial. may play well to small niche audience. excellent t-shirt potential.

big finale: my time travel expedition to ten cent beer night: For those of you who don’t know, Ten Cent Beer Night was an infamous MLB promotion during a game between the Texas Rangers and the Cleveland Indians on June 4, 1974. No limits were made on the number of alcoholic beverages purchased, and ten beers for a dollar proved too much for the crowd at Cleveland Municipal Stadium to handle. A riot that involved nudity, vomit, bleacher destruction and the Cleveland Indians rushing out of their dugout to defend the Rangers against their own rabid fans erupted.

I’m not going to reveal how or why (I had to sign contracts, plus if I told, everybody’d wanna try), but I was recently offered the opportunity to travel back to any historical event of my choice using a time machine prototype developed by government scientists using blueprints recently uncovered from one of the late Orson Welles’ top secret files. There was no other option in my mind. Hit the jump to see how my trip to the most disastrous baseball game in history played out in first person.

i dunno, you had to be there.

- boyparty