They seem like a fun bunch.
Absolutely the worst party I’ve been to in my life.
It was in a horrible location: a difficult to navigate snow-covered mountain pass more suited for ox-drawn wagons than a proper vehicle. Seriously, rent a hall.
The only music they had was some old guy with a fiddle who couldn’t play it properly because he’d lost several fingers to frostbite.
Everyone was just dour. There was a lot of wailing and weeping–it was a real mood killer.
They ran out of hor d’oeuvres almost immediately; the food was the biggest disappointment.
It was a terribly planned party–I left early.
Don’t get me wrong, I prefer it to a family get-together at my aunt’s house, but I’d rather be stripped naked, chained to the back of a jeep, and dragged through a field of broken glass, than go to a family get-together at my aunt’s house.
I just hope things picked up after I left.
The Donner Party is sometimes referred to by historians as the Donner-Reed Party.
But I’m certain Donner-Reed would throw a fantastic party.
“I throw fantastic parties.”