Pirate Party is a sacred ceremony. A celebration of joy, established in 1348 when Claremont Men’s College was a mere infant of two years, Pirate Party holds eternal sanctity that we must all take full advantage of and bask in. Originally founded as a way to honor CMC’s primary funder and the original flex daddy Captain Henry Kravis, a veteran pirate who is widely known for his swashbuckling takeovers of struggling firms, pirate party is the epitome of inviolability.
This brings me to both my eternal and external struggle that pulsates through my veins and tortures me as I walk through the golden gates of Pirate Party: Bouncy Houses are meant for fucking and that’s what I intend to do, but this godforsaken school forbids me from following my unalienable right to get down and dirty in the bouncy house. I can certainly enjoy a good nut in a wide variety of places and because of that, I am blessed. But truth be told, I will never feel fulfilled in life until I bust so hard in that sexy, sexy bouncy house that Parent’s Field rattles and sinks into the San Andreas Fault.
As a child, there was only one thing I wanted in life. Now that I’m 18 and I can hardly relate to my childhood self, one constant remains: all I want to do is fuck so goddamn hard in the bouncy house that my genitals throb for days. Claremont McKenna College claims to be a “sex-positive safe space,” yet they uphold Draconian principles that restrict my ability to achieve true bliss by sexually peaking in the Bouncy House at Pirate Party.
Bouncy houses are inherently sexual places. You’re lying to yourself if you’re telling me that you’ve looked at the voluptuous and rolling curves of the entrance which gives way to the inherently sensual experience which lies within and felt nothing. Those brassy gates and sensuous rounded edges get me going like nothing else. And don’t even get me started on that thick, juicy air pump.
I understand that Pirate Party is a public forum but I see no reason why me just absolutely going at it in a bouncy house is any more sexual than anything else that is going on at Pirate Party. Especially when I’m surrounded by the contemporary hyper-sexualized media landscape, including especially erotic shows like Big Mouth, it is only inevitable that I’m going to end up wanting to do the Devil’s Dance in a bouncy house.
I am incensed that Campus Security has the gall to approach me while I’m playing peek-a-boo with your vein cane in the flesh pipe and ask me to stop. Then the fact that they refused to join to make it a good ol’ bouncy house passion pit is beyond belief.
There is no way to describe these absurd boundaries that prohibit me from fucking till I drop in the bouncy house at Pirate Party other than disgraceful. ASCMC has a strict “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy when it comes to checking student IDs for alcohol and fucking in the Bouncy House at Pirate Party, but Campus Security has a strict “ask and tell” policy on the same matters. We try to stop what we are afraid of. Campus Security, you are cowards.