You’ve been waiting with bated breath and, yes, it’s finally that time of the month. Powder your wigs, wax your merkins, juice your loins, and grease your members; the Eclectic Sex Party is only a reach around away! “But what is the theme!?!” you passionately cry. Why, it’s Period Sex, only one entendre short of a ménage á trois. Recall, if you will, the Marquis de Sade ravaging Anne-Prospere and Robespierre reigning his terror on Marie Antoinette, while Louis XIV steadies the webcam — and Lady Macbeth really meaning it as she shrieks “Out, damn spot!”
This party will tickle your sticky bits and make your nipples cry. This party will abuse your bacon hole and make your groin ferret scream as only your mother and father remember. This party will be the last crusade of Dionysus Dong; a bloody tea party in a cum-drenched Versailles; 50 engorged geishas writhing on a dead man’s chest while licking Long John Silver’s third leg in a post-apocalyptic fluidic fallout shelter with only bags of flaming caca left to eat.
If you think you can bear it, please join us in your favorite “period piece” 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. on Sept. 20. However, unlike every submissive’s safe word, you can’t howl “Woody Allen” to get out of these rules:
a) No containers in the house.
s) Dress to get fucked. We will personally engulf every last inch of you.
s) Bring single dollars. There will be pay-to-play tricks and treats.
s) Tickets will be sold IN ADVANCE ONLY. Wednesday ($6), Thursday ($6), and Friday ($7), lunchtime and dinnertime at “Oozedan.”
e) Re-entry prohibited except up the cornhole
x) Without a ticket and a valid Wes ID, we will be tearfully unable to let you into our moist, milky wormhole that is Eclectic Haus.
Give us your best, and we’ll give you everything we’ve got, forever. Prepare for rug-burning Neanderthal cybersex at the event horizon of a universal orgasm, but real, with Crisco.
xoxo,
Phi Nu Theta
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