Luigi Russolo was that guy at the party.
A painter by trade, Russolo made a second name for himself by being both the life and death of the soirée. He’d often break into vile poetry, destroy textbooks, and even worse—burn the Italian flag before stomping out. While crass and offensive, his outbursts were apparently the most fun one could have in a politically-torn Italy and met with a torrent of follow-up invitations the following morning. Russolo would spend roughly half of the 1910s painting and the other half thoroughly offending Milan’s aristocracy.