the delicate art of flippy cup

My mother said I look like someone took a cheese-grader to the side of my head and ear. The artists think I was trying to imitate Van Gogh. The jocks are comparing it to Ivander Holyfield, The bloggers are speculating about possible abuse a la Rhianna, and the writers know full well that I was hammered, yet again.
I went the a 70's themed fondue party lastnight, and it was lovely.

I really like being in the situation of not knowing anyone in a house full of people. These are simple sentences.
Hindsight is 20/20, I should not have drank a six-pack of cider before indulging in copious amounts of red wine.
The last thing I remember before running into the side of a garage with my face, was feeling dizzy. I didn't expect the situation to get to that point, I will say for the record that I had full intentions of behaving at this party. I didn't cuss anyone out, though I wanted to. I didn't scream at Chris when he threw a glass of white wine at me-and i wanted to. I didn't take out any frustrations on the kid, or even on his ridiculous roommate and his questions.

I did however decide that it was not only a good idea to participate in an impromptu game beer pong, but also substituted the beer for wine. After losing pathetically at wine pong, I decided to take it an extra step.... enter the worst idea ever-flippy cup.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flip_cup <-- for those of you unfamiliar.

I don't remember trying any fondue, I don't remember any names of the people that I met.
Luckily Chris was there and was able to recall the events. Apparently there were a lot of things that went unnoticed by me.

1) One of the kid's ex girlfriends was there, dressed in red. Evidently Chris thought she was being rude by flipping through a collection of cds and dvds. He accused her of being a thief... nice.

2) When the kid came into the garage to see if was dead, his brother was asking everyone around the fire "Do I really want to know what's going on in there?"

3) I spent a portion of the evening referring to a "little person" as a nugget and Cheuy.

I remember when the kid's dick-head roommate found it appropriate to bust out drinking games at a fondue party,
I remember deciding to hijack the situation, filling cups with red wine.
I remember being in the backyard and feeling dizzy....
The last real memory was stummbling hard to the left and planting my face into the side of a stucco garage, apparently the mixture of rock and glass does NOT make for a soft landing.