Party...?

So I went to this party the other night. I mean, I guess you could call it a party, although it was more like a Bohemian, splatter painting, hash-munching, luke-warm wine swilling, asexual, sketchfest. Seriously I would’ve been more comfortable walking into a room with Roman Polanski, Michael Jackson and Jerry Lee Lewis and a naked 14 year old boy tied face down on the floor …it was that fucked up.
Can’t quite put my finger on it; maybe it was the guy who answered the door wearing a leather vest and a dog collar, maybe it was the bed in the middle of the living room with a huge bedroom covered floor-to-ceiling in paint so thick the whole room was probably several cubic feet smaller or maybe it was that none of the men seemed remotely fazed I was in the company of a lady.
I’ll tell you this much, that’s the last time I take a sip from the bottle marked “Drink Me.”