Surviving Barstool S4 Ep. 2 | No One is Safe With Survival at StakeWATCH NOW

"Throwback Thursday: Barstool Foam Party" by Dylan

Happy Thursday my friends. You may remember that one of my fun facts at my audition was that I attended the first ever Barstool foam party at UDel when I was a freshman. I just re-watched that video and thought, “woah, I don’t remember that many girls being there.” But that was probably on me because I was a late bloomer and not as worried about getting with girls as much as just fist pumping till my eye balls fell out. Definitely not because it was 70/30 dudes to start and all the hot girls immediately ran onto the stage, making the peasant dance floor 90% horny young men, shaking there asses with foam up to their eyes not knowing who they’re grinding with the guy from the floor below him. Def not that. I, of course, behaved like a respectable gentleman but the things I observed were just pure savagery.

We threw a classic dorm pregame in which 7 young lads huddled around a desk slamming Limeade Burnette’s because our alcohol plug got off to only buying us the most disgusting flavors of vodka. That stuff is fucking poison, you couldn’t pay me to drink that shit today. (That’s a bold faced lie. I’d drink it for an embarrassingly low amount.) We yapped on about how epic the night was going to be and how much poonani we were going to slay. Spoiler alert, nobody got laid. Two of the original seven didn’t make it out of the dorms and one kid got lost on the way to buses because he had to take a piss and then didn’t know the campus well enough yet to figure out where the buses were parked. We were down to four brave souls and the bus ride there already showed what kind of night it was going to be. Kids passed out left and right, bus drivers questioning every decision they’ve ever made in their life, and people clearly more sexually advanced than me sucking face and more. I remember thinking, “if they’re already rounding second and heading for third on the bus ride THERE, are they going to go home, to go home? Or just go home in the foam?” I’d listen to that song.

We arrive at Club 302 which was just a warehouse somewhere in Delaware. I’m pretty sure it was in an industrial park. I showed someone my wrist band to get in, probably Devlin, and I walked into an 18 year old’s playground. There were for some reason batting cages along the first twenty feet of walking in, which makes a comeback in this story. The music was pumping and the foam was pouring out from multiple different machines on the ceiling. No exaggeration, some areas had mountains of foam twenty feet high. Of course my first move was to run full sprint into said mountain, not realizing there may be other people also playing with the bubbles and took out a group of girls. They very soon after declined my invitation to dance. The four of us got split up and I only had one companion left by my side. After striking out several times, we decided clearly the reason of our misfortunes was that we “weren’t drunk enough for this.” Luckily, the bouncer to the bar area at a warehouse party for college kids wasn’t a stickler for fake ID’s. We slammed some more drinks and tried to devise a plan to get on the stage because my buddy wanted to do a stage dive. His words, not mine. We walk up to the bouncer guarding the stage and you could see it on this guys face he was ready to tell us to fuck off immediately. But my buddy just comes out hot and goes, “yo, we’re the titty cam guys. We gotta get on stage to film the titties.” The bouncer busted out laughing and told us, “best one I heard tonight but fuck off.” My buddy was relentless and started screaming at the guy, telling him he wasn’t allowing us to do our jobs as the titty cam guys. At this point, I remember starting to slowly back away because I just met this kid two weeks ago and he seemed like a certified sociopath. That’s when a Barstool employee came to check out what the commotion was. Our cover was surely blown at that point but my buddy doubled down and said “don’t you guys need a titty cam man?” Whoever that was said, “no you fucking idiot,” but gave him a t-shirt as a parting gift which was honestly pretty nice. The two of us decided maybe it was just time to join our fellow peasants in the pit and enjoy the bubbles.

The foam at this point was up to at least my neck in most areas of the dance floor. I’m a tall guy so I was safe, but I genuinely don’t understand how people didn’t suffocate. The night was coming to an end and we started heading to the buses. As we were heading out, there was a group of bros, who clearly also struck out, diving head first through piles of foam. It looked pretty fun until the next guy up dove through the foam and came up with a GIANT gash on his thigh. It was spewing blood. If that guy is reading this for some reason please tweet out the picture of the enormous fucking scar that must have made. The place was pretty much pure anarchy as I was leaving and this is where the batting cages comes back. Some fucking savage, without a doubt a bro who got denied all night, was grabbing loose baseballs from the batting cages and GUNNING them in to the crowd. This dude was straight up Randy Johnsoning balls into crowd and probably got 4 or 5 pitches off before getting bundled by a security guard. If that guy is reading this, you sir are a fucking asshole. We took the bus home, I fell asleep on the floor of my common room, and woke up with the driest skin I’ve ever had in my whole life. Happy Thursday.

P.S. This girl was the spirit animal of the evening.

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