All you need now is a colorful Tupperware© bowl full of prison-grade blow cut with veterinary anæsthetic, a couple of crack whores still throwing up from the container ship, and ... music, maestro, please!
Nothing gets the party swingin' like some Old School funk. Here at Th' House
|Humorous apron, yesterday|
EDIT: On re-listening to this, I find it laughably inappropriate for the kind of soirée envisaged above. I apologize if you have already gone to all the trouble and expense of installing an indoor patio.