last night was kind of low key for me. i got real sick on wednesday so i wanted to chill out last night, so i was just chillin on beer, and not going all out. it's good that i did that because beatrice, the crazy girl from a couple of posts ago, ended up passing out about a half mile from her dorm so i carried her back so she wouldn't get fucked with at milk cartons (to give you an idea these are off campus houses that are even sketchier/crazier than frat houses). I'm such a good guy.
Anyway, so I'm tipsy, loose, enjoying myself, but not drunk at this party. I'm hanging out with the boys, and we're having a good time. The dancer girls arrive. it's this group of 3 or 4 girls who are all friends from dance class together. we're friends with them so we went over and said hi. for the sake of my story i'll call them DG (for dance girl) 1, 2, and 3. DG3 is very short and looks sort of young. this is important. she had her little sister too. it was cute. it was obviously this girl's frist party. i assumed she was like a freshman in highschool or something. so we're talking to these girls for a while and eventually they go to refill their drinks or something. I run into DG3 later, and, to make conversation, say "I saw your sister here, how old is she, like 14?" DG3 responded with "actually she's 12." i laughed because it was a funny joke. then i stopped laughing because it was not. she was not joking. she told me not to tell anyone and gave me that look that says "i know it's wrong, just dont fucking tell anyone." SHE BROUGHT A FUCKING 12 YEAR OLD TO A COLLEGE PARTY!!! WHAT THE FUCK??? my sister is 12. she's in 7th grade. she's NOT ready for a college party.
I'm not a conservative person, but seriously. a 12 yearold does NOT belong at this party. (although to the party hosts' credits, they did play the edited version of crank dat soulja boy.)
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
The British Have Douches Too!
Let me preface this by saying that generally while I didn’t think that all Brits were cool, I didn’t think any were Douche Bags—assholes perhaps—but not douches. I was wrong. I will also say that one of the things that pisses me off the most is when people assume that I am uneducated and dismissible.
It’s Tuesday night and my buddy Zach and I decide to take one of our friends, Liz, out to get drunk because she just broke up with her bf over the weekend. Nothing is going on because it is Tuesday so we decide to go to one our spots this “café” in Aix called Sunset.
Now this “café” It is an absolute hole-in-the-wall (you have to knock on the huge black iron door to get in), but it plays really good music and serves10 € Giraffes every night of the week before 20:30 (Fuck military time by the way). A Giraffe is the European pitcher of sorts. It is a vertical cylinder with a tap on the bottom filled with beer, 2.5 liters of beer to be precise. 10 € is an unbelievable price for 2.5 liters of beer.
We sit down and order one. Halfway through we decide to get two more—it is after all almost 10:30 and the deal is ending soon, so we might as well stock up for the rest of the night. We proceeded to get sloshed.
As we are finishing up our third Giraffe a group of British guys and American girls sit down at the table next to us. Now we are feeling pretty friendly at this point so we start talking to them. That is when shit started to hit the fan. (I’m going to add some of the subtext of the conversation)
“Hey do you guys want to make a bet?” Douche McDouchferson asks. This guy is a Brit wearing a polo with the collar up—warning sign number one.
“Well what were you thinking?” the Americans reply.
“How many states does the United States have?” English prick asks.
“50 (you fucking English prick).”
“Actually there are only 46. The other four consider themselves to be commonwealths. (You fucking uneducated American scum, how do you not even know this basic fact I learned in my American Studies class at (insert pretentious English school name))?” fuckhead responds.
“Well we don’t really care if West Virginia has its head so far up it’s own ass that it considers itself to be a ‘commonwealth,’ the rest of the (fucking) country considers it to be a state.”
“I believe you are mistaken (I’m an English douche bag, didn’t you know?).”
“Well the fact is that if they didn’t—at least to some extent—acknowledge their statehood they would not have senators. (duh)”
“Whatever. Fool yourselves all you want there are only 46 states.”
“First of all I’ve never needed to memorize a single fucking fact about England—probably because all you do is eat fish and chips and secondly who the fuck cares about some bullshit trivia you happened to pick up the one day you weren’t drunk during class?” (well yes, obviously I cared, but let me say that I was very, very drunk and getting pretty sick of the smug filling the room)
“Wait where do you go to school?” asks ugly American girl number one.
“USC” I answer.
“Oh, the University of Second Choices and Spoiled Children?” –Now I’ve heard this before and yes, it is funny. There are a few rich kids at SC (but aren’t there some at every school?) and the school probably is several students’ second choice—especially considering what a nightmare college admission has turned into. But, motherfucker, when an American sides with a Douche of a Brit and proceeds to basically call someone spoiled and stupid in the same breath shit ain’t cool.
“Oh… yeah. I’ve heard that. That’s what all the ugly girls say.”
That is when, luckily, I was escorted out of the bar and home to bed.
Cheers.
It’s Tuesday night and my buddy Zach and I decide to take one of our friends, Liz, out to get drunk because she just broke up with her bf over the weekend. Nothing is going on because it is Tuesday so we decide to go to one our spots this “café” in Aix called Sunset.
Now this “café” It is an absolute hole-in-the-wall (you have to knock on the huge black iron door to get in), but it plays really good music and serves10 € Giraffes every night of the week before 20:30 (Fuck military time by the way). A Giraffe is the European pitcher of sorts. It is a vertical cylinder with a tap on the bottom filled with beer, 2.5 liters of beer to be precise. 10 € is an unbelievable price for 2.5 liters of beer.
We sit down and order one. Halfway through we decide to get two more—it is after all almost 10:30 and the deal is ending soon, so we might as well stock up for the rest of the night. We proceeded to get sloshed.
As we are finishing up our third Giraffe a group of British guys and American girls sit down at the table next to us. Now we are feeling pretty friendly at this point so we start talking to them. That is when shit started to hit the fan. (I’m going to add some of the subtext of the conversation)
“Hey do you guys want to make a bet?” Douche McDouchferson asks. This guy is a Brit wearing a polo with the collar up—warning sign number one.
“Well what were you thinking?” the Americans reply.
“How many states does the United States have?” English prick asks.
“50 (you fucking English prick).”
“Actually there are only 46. The other four consider themselves to be commonwealths. (You fucking uneducated American scum, how do you not even know this basic fact I learned in my American Studies class at (insert pretentious English school name))?” fuckhead responds.
“Well we don’t really care if West Virginia has its head so far up it’s own ass that it considers itself to be a ‘commonwealth,’ the rest of the (fucking) country considers it to be a state.”
“I believe you are mistaken (I’m an English douche bag, didn’t you know?).”
“Well the fact is that if they didn’t—at least to some extent—acknowledge their statehood they would not have senators. (duh)”
“Whatever. Fool yourselves all you want there are only 46 states.”
“First of all I’ve never needed to memorize a single fucking fact about England—probably because all you do is eat fish and chips and secondly who the fuck cares about some bullshit trivia you happened to pick up the one day you weren’t drunk during class?” (well yes, obviously I cared, but let me say that I was very, very drunk and getting pretty sick of the smug filling the room)
“Wait where do you go to school?” asks ugly American girl number one.
“USC” I answer.
“Oh, the University of Second Choices and Spoiled Children?” –Now I’ve heard this before and yes, it is funny. There are a few rich kids at SC (but aren’t there some at every school?) and the school probably is several students’ second choice—especially considering what a nightmare college admission has turned into. But, motherfucker, when an American sides with a Douche of a Brit and proceeds to basically call someone spoiled and stupid in the same breath shit ain’t cool.
“Oh… yeah. I’ve heard that. That’s what all the ugly girls say.”
That is when, luckily, I was escorted out of the bar and home to bed.
Cheers.
Worlds Collide: Parents Weekend (part 1)
I got a call at 8:40 this morning. my parents were already here. "did we wake you up?" they ask. MY FIRST CLASS IS AT 10:10 OF COURSE YOU FUCKING WOKE ME UP! this weekend is going to be fun. of the things they brought me from home, the tennis racket is my grandma's not mine, and the desk lamp doesn't work. to their credit they did bring me my guitar and my grill. and my mom made me cake from scratch. none of that pillsbury bullshit. i'll let you know how it is. but basically, the paretns are at college. worlds are colliding. we can only pray for the best.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
reflections: words of wisdom from your favorite, the cush
if satan peed, it would be gin.
imagine a fight of pirates vs. vikings. that would be fucking cool to watch. except the pirates aren't allowed to use their cannons.
music by oasis is generally very good.
last year 40% of the graduating class at my school had genital warts. that's disgusting. it is my goal to leave college without any STDs or STIs. thats probably just as important as getting my diploma, so if i don't graduate, but when i drop out i don't have any STDs, it won't be a complete failure.
A good test of true friendship: get REALLY drunk. throw up a lot. if someone asks if you're ok, they are nice. if they check on you, they actually care. if they help you out while you're puking, they're a friend. if they sleep on the floor to make sure you live out the night, they're a true friend.
BYAH!!!!
tomorrow begins parent's visiting weekend. get pumped for some funny fucking stories.
imagine a fight of pirates vs. vikings. that would be fucking cool to watch. except the pirates aren't allowed to use their cannons.
music by oasis is generally very good.
last year 40% of the graduating class at my school had genital warts. that's disgusting. it is my goal to leave college without any STDs or STIs. thats probably just as important as getting my diploma, so if i don't graduate, but when i drop out i don't have any STDs, it won't be a complete failure.
A good test of true friendship: get REALLY drunk. throw up a lot. if someone asks if you're ok, they are nice. if they check on you, they actually care. if they help you out while you're puking, they're a friend. if they sleep on the floor to make sure you live out the night, they're a true friend.
BYAH!!!!
tomorrow begins parent's visiting weekend. get pumped for some funny fucking stories.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
the return of the computer girl
i have the first draft of a gigantic essay due on friday. my professor is grading our first drafts. however, in order to get a good grade on our first drafts, we have to submit a rough draft of them for him to look at. so last night i wrote my rough draft for my first draft for an essay. this morning i went to print it out, and my roommates computer is out of ink. so off i go to the computer lab. so i'm sitting in a room, literally SURROUNDED by computers, printing out my draft to hand in, and i look behind me and who do i see, looking at me, but the girl whose computer i carelessly smashed on the floor. AWWWKWAAARRDDDD!!!!!!! apperently she's still not impressed with me.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
you can't make this shit up: my past 2 weekends (part 4)
the last night of a 4 day weekend. half the student body is gone, and the campus is empty. the big question of the night: where do we party? justin had the answer. we were to play beerpong at the house of his friend from home. they were having the birthday party for a brand new 21 year old. i get there and i see a shit show. theres drunk field hockey girls, and drunk improv actors. one field hockey girl is so drunk she can hardly stand, and they're trying to get her to stop drinking. i saved the day by playing a game called throw bread into my mouth. the rules were simple. she'd throw bread at me, and i'd catch it in my mouth. then she laugh histerically and tell her friend how hot she thought i was. finally she decided to go home... so she gets on a bike. that was a bad idea. then, like 6 of us had to wrestle her off this bike before she killed herself or one of us. she went upstairs, passed out, and peed the bed. gross.
so anyway, she was out of commission, and i wanted to get drunk, so i went over to be table. "WANA BE MY BEERPONG PARTNER?" another girl, we'll call her jane, yelled drunkenly into my face. did i ever. we got up and started winning. then i got a call from beatrice from the previous post. where are you? at the ackland houses. cool, if i walk buy will you invite me in? yeah sure, whatever. we kept playing. so beatrice and my 2 hallmates come over. and i get those girls in. it's starting to get late, but we're invited into another house to smoke hookah. it sounds like a good time. jane and i have been barely holding on to the table, and it's come down to one cup three times now, so we're drunk. she's sloppy. we start smoking hookah and this girl becomes obsessed with passing the smoke from mouth to mouth. the trouble was, that she kept slipping me toung while we were doig this. it was real gross.
all of a sudden, theres a knock at the door. uh oh. security's here because it's 5:30 am and we're loud as fuck. this is where the comedy starts. he says "I'm here for a noise complaint, but i can see the pipe, and i'm gonna need to check it out" yes sir, says juan, the owner of the house. (his name wasn't actually juan, but it was a hispanic name. he was hispanic. remember this.) anyway, "yes sir," says juan, "let me take it out to you." good call juan, there's a shit ton of drunk under-agers in this house. the security guard takes one look at the hookah and is immediately sketched out. juan takes off the coal so that the security man can take a look at the tobacco and make sure that's all it is. "what's that do?" he asks. ignorant ohio fuck. "well it's very hot so it ignites the tobacco and turns it into smoke and pulls it down throught the water so it's smooth and enjoyable" juan says. the security man sees the tobacco, acknowledges it at such, and not weed, but is still confused as to why we are using a hookah. "you know you're not allowed to use bubblers, does housing know about this?" he asks. "....yeeeaaahh?" is the responce juan offers. the security guard believes him. that's amazing. then a lightbulb goes off in security man's head. he's figured out why we'd be smoking hookah and not just cigarettes. he then, with a straight face, asks juan (remember, he's hispanic) "Wait! are you guys jewish?" everyone in the house bursts out laughing. "yes sir, thats right." he responds, as he shoots us a confused look. "so it's a cultural thing!" the security man declares. he tells us to go home, and we do. I more than "go home." i fucking bust ass out of there, because by now jane, or whatever it is i'm calling her, has her hand on my balls. so i grab my boy justin, and beatrice and my hallmate, and we go home. i have a prospy in my bed, so i crash in my hallmates room and spend the next 40 minutes making out to the sound of justin snoring at probably a 4000 decibel level. what a night.
so anyway, she was out of commission, and i wanted to get drunk, so i went over to be table. "WANA BE MY BEERPONG PARTNER?" another girl, we'll call her jane, yelled drunkenly into my face. did i ever. we got up and started winning. then i got a call from beatrice from the previous post. where are you? at the ackland houses. cool, if i walk buy will you invite me in? yeah sure, whatever. we kept playing. so beatrice and my 2 hallmates come over. and i get those girls in. it's starting to get late, but we're invited into another house to smoke hookah. it sounds like a good time. jane and i have been barely holding on to the table, and it's come down to one cup three times now, so we're drunk. she's sloppy. we start smoking hookah and this girl becomes obsessed with passing the smoke from mouth to mouth. the trouble was, that she kept slipping me toung while we were doig this. it was real gross.
all of a sudden, theres a knock at the door. uh oh. security's here because it's 5:30 am and we're loud as fuck. this is where the comedy starts. he says "I'm here for a noise complaint, but i can see the pipe, and i'm gonna need to check it out" yes sir, says juan, the owner of the house. (his name wasn't actually juan, but it was a hispanic name. he was hispanic. remember this.) anyway, "yes sir," says juan, "let me take it out to you." good call juan, there's a shit ton of drunk under-agers in this house. the security guard takes one look at the hookah and is immediately sketched out. juan takes off the coal so that the security man can take a look at the tobacco and make sure that's all it is. "what's that do?" he asks. ignorant ohio fuck. "well it's very hot so it ignites the tobacco and turns it into smoke and pulls it down throught the water so it's smooth and enjoyable" juan says. the security man sees the tobacco, acknowledges it at such, and not weed, but is still confused as to why we are using a hookah. "you know you're not allowed to use bubblers, does housing know about this?" he asks. "....yeeeaaahh?" is the responce juan offers. the security guard believes him. that's amazing. then a lightbulb goes off in security man's head. he's figured out why we'd be smoking hookah and not just cigarettes. he then, with a straight face, asks juan (remember, he's hispanic) "Wait! are you guys jewish?" everyone in the house bursts out laughing. "yes sir, thats right." he responds, as he shoots us a confused look. "so it's a cultural thing!" the security man declares. he tells us to go home, and we do. I more than "go home." i fucking bust ass out of there, because by now jane, or whatever it is i'm calling her, has her hand on my balls. so i grab my boy justin, and beatrice and my hallmate, and we go home. i have a prospy in my bed, so i crash in my hallmates room and spend the next 40 minutes making out to the sound of justin snoring at probably a 4000 decibel level. what a night.
you can't make this shit up: my past 2 weekends (part 3)
a story about the first time i hooked up with beatrice, the girl from part 1 of this (at least) trilogy. here comes the preface...
Preface: in the beginning of the year i hooked up with a girl (we'll call her betsy). she's an ok looking girl who is AMAZING at dancing and TERRIBLE at kissing. it was a mistake and she gave me a cold sore. i got a lot of shit about it from my boys. it was disgusting and i regret it. i could have dealt with either the cold sore or the bad kissing but not both... not both...
so the other night, i was in the AD bullseye (a room with a big bullseye shaped window) enjoying a dance party. then betsy entered the room. she has these eyes that look at you and just suck you right in. it's especially bad when you're drunk. she she got me with her tractor beam eyes and amazing dance moves and i was sucked right in. i'd dance with her until my boy justin would pry me off her. he'd be like "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?!?!?! YOU DON'T WANT THAT!!!" then i'd go right back to it. anyway, we were dancing and getting closer and closer, and justin was getting more and more pissed, and finally beatrice saw what she had to do. it was like in any action movie when someone takes the bullet for the president. it was all happening in slow motion. betsy was going in for the make out. i was dancing, unsuspectingly. beatrice, still in slow mo, yelled NOOOOOOOOOO in a silly deep voice and saved me. i was free from the eyes, and therefore, snapped out of the spell. HOLY SHIT! i thought to myself. i was making out with beatrice instead of betsy. thank god.
Preface: in the beginning of the year i hooked up with a girl (we'll call her betsy). she's an ok looking girl who is AMAZING at dancing and TERRIBLE at kissing. it was a mistake and she gave me a cold sore. i got a lot of shit about it from my boys. it was disgusting and i regret it. i could have dealt with either the cold sore or the bad kissing but not both... not both...
so the other night, i was in the AD bullseye (a room with a big bullseye shaped window) enjoying a dance party. then betsy entered the room. she has these eyes that look at you and just suck you right in. it's especially bad when you're drunk. she she got me with her tractor beam eyes and amazing dance moves and i was sucked right in. i'd dance with her until my boy justin would pry me off her. he'd be like "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?!?!?! YOU DON'T WANT THAT!!!" then i'd go right back to it. anyway, we were dancing and getting closer and closer, and justin was getting more and more pissed, and finally beatrice saw what she had to do. it was like in any action movie when someone takes the bullet for the president. it was all happening in slow motion. betsy was going in for the make out. i was dancing, unsuspectingly. beatrice, still in slow mo, yelled NOOOOOOOOOO in a silly deep voice and saved me. i was free from the eyes, and therefore, snapped out of the spell. HOLY SHIT! i thought to myself. i was making out with beatrice instead of betsy. thank god.
you can't make this shit up: my past 2 weekends (part 2)
i'm really into prefacing things, so listen: I AM A NICE PERSON! i know, my writing on this forum makes me come off as a dick, but i'm not. i'm a genuinely nice person. this is a story about the one time i was a mean person... enjoy.
It all begins on friday. I had a prospective student with me, so i brought her to a 21st birthday i was obligated to attend, and she got real drunk. then i put her to bed, and went out again. my neighbor from 2 doors down had a friend from mount holyoke (sweeeeeet!!!) staying with her, and this girl was real hot. for the sake of the story we'll call my neighbor mary and this girl "moho girl." so me and my friend, we'll call him bigbird, decided one of us should be hooking up with moho girl. it was true, one of us should have been.
now i have to make clear the fact that these girls grew up together on an island. they've been "besties" for a long-ass time. "moho girl" was also good friends with mary's cousin. when i say good friends, i mean good friends, not "good friends." (the latter implies her touching his penis, which she was not.) because of this, the three of them did a lot of talking to eachother. however, moho girl came from mount holyoke, which is an all girls college. because of this, she flirts with EVERY GUY she meets, including myself and bigbird. so imagine the situation: me and bigbird are drunk and want to hook up with this girl. she's flirting with us, but she also spends time talking to mary and mary's cousin. so me and bigbird interpereted this to mean that she wanted us, but mary was cockblocking and trying to set her up with her cousin. lame sauce, extra spicy. eventually we gave up, and went to the AD fraternity house, and drank the punch. i went home quite unsatisfied, and passed out in the hall. next thing i know, i'm being woken up by moho girl, and she's telling me to go to bed. "but there's a prospy in my bed!" i reply. she tells me to get in her bed. SHWING!!! i go into her room, and proceed to climb into her bed. she asks me what i'm doing in all those clothes. AWESOME!!! i tell her i'm going to sleep. lame answer. she asks how i normally sleep. in my boxers, i reply. she then takes off my pants and shirt. get in bed, i'll be right back. i get in bed and immediately pass out. the next mornign around 8 she climbs into bed, waking me up. she went to check on bigbird who was just as wasted as i was, and passed out on his floor. great night for everyone.
***THE NEXT NIGHT***
we're up at the DKE frat area drinking. i'm double fisting all night. it's great, a night of dancing and hoorays. the last i remember of it, i'm walking down the hall in search of more beer. the next day, i hear mary and moho girl and nicely say hi to them. "oh, so today you like me!" mary angrilly replies. i was confused so i asked what she meant. she then told me what i had done the night before. here's a brief run down. I went into the other room to get more beer, and apperently i found it. then, she said, i saw them on my way back to the party. I accused mary of cockblocking, and screamed at her to allow poor moho girl to make her own decisions (she was standing right there). we all left the party together, and i continued to yell at mary the entire way home. i had my arm over moho girl's sholders and was still yelling things like "I DON'T GET WHY MARY HATES ME!!!" and "HEY MARY, EVERYONE THNKS IT'S FUCKED UP HOW YOU'RE COCKBLOCKING ME AND BIGBIRD!" etc. i then, in my drunkenness, accidentally ran moho girl into a lamp post, and she used the opertunity, as anyone else would, to run back to her friend, who then rubbed it in my face. then i peed on a church. after that, I passed out on bigbird's floor watching his roommates grey's anatomy. (I FUCKING HATE THAT SHOW)!!! i was put to bed by a girl on my hall. apperently i was mumbling about zach braff. good job O'Neill, good fucking job.
It all begins on friday. I had a prospective student with me, so i brought her to a 21st birthday i was obligated to attend, and she got real drunk. then i put her to bed, and went out again. my neighbor from 2 doors down had a friend from mount holyoke (sweeeeeet!!!) staying with her, and this girl was real hot. for the sake of the story we'll call my neighbor mary and this girl "moho girl." so me and my friend, we'll call him bigbird, decided one of us should be hooking up with moho girl. it was true, one of us should have been.
now i have to make clear the fact that these girls grew up together on an island. they've been "besties" for a long-ass time. "moho girl" was also good friends with mary's cousin. when i say good friends, i mean good friends, not "good friends." (the latter implies her touching his penis, which she was not.) because of this, the three of them did a lot of talking to eachother. however, moho girl came from mount holyoke, which is an all girls college. because of this, she flirts with EVERY GUY she meets, including myself and bigbird. so imagine the situation: me and bigbird are drunk and want to hook up with this girl. she's flirting with us, but she also spends time talking to mary and mary's cousin. so me and bigbird interpereted this to mean that she wanted us, but mary was cockblocking and trying to set her up with her cousin. lame sauce, extra spicy. eventually we gave up, and went to the AD fraternity house, and drank the punch. i went home quite unsatisfied, and passed out in the hall. next thing i know, i'm being woken up by moho girl, and she's telling me to go to bed. "but there's a prospy in my bed!" i reply. she tells me to get in her bed. SHWING!!! i go into her room, and proceed to climb into her bed. she asks me what i'm doing in all those clothes. AWESOME!!! i tell her i'm going to sleep. lame answer. she asks how i normally sleep. in my boxers, i reply. she then takes off my pants and shirt. get in bed, i'll be right back. i get in bed and immediately pass out. the next mornign around 8 she climbs into bed, waking me up. she went to check on bigbird who was just as wasted as i was, and passed out on his floor. great night for everyone.
***THE NEXT NIGHT***
we're up at the DKE frat area drinking. i'm double fisting all night. it's great, a night of dancing and hoorays. the last i remember of it, i'm walking down the hall in search of more beer. the next day, i hear mary and moho girl and nicely say hi to them. "oh, so today you like me!" mary angrilly replies. i was confused so i asked what she meant. she then told me what i had done the night before. here's a brief run down. I went into the other room to get more beer, and apperently i found it. then, she said, i saw them on my way back to the party. I accused mary of cockblocking, and screamed at her to allow poor moho girl to make her own decisions (she was standing right there). we all left the party together, and i continued to yell at mary the entire way home. i had my arm over moho girl's sholders and was still yelling things like "I DON'T GET WHY MARY HATES ME!!!" and "HEY MARY, EVERYONE THNKS IT'S FUCKED UP HOW YOU'RE COCKBLOCKING ME AND BIGBIRD!" etc. i then, in my drunkenness, accidentally ran moho girl into a lamp post, and she used the opertunity, as anyone else would, to run back to her friend, who then rubbed it in my face. then i peed on a church. after that, I passed out on bigbird's floor watching his roommates grey's anatomy. (I FUCKING HATE THAT SHOW)!!! i was put to bed by a girl on my hall. apperently i was mumbling about zach braff. good job O'Neill, good fucking job.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
you can't make this shit up: my past 2 weekends (part 1)
let me preface this by saying that i've had an crazy pair of weekends. there will be more posts to come, but right now i'm swamped with a paper and tech week for a show i'm running tech for, so i'm fucking busy.
Friday, 10:00 pm: I'm in upper Lewis residence hall driking nattie light. we're playing some card game i've never heard of. it's me, my man Charlie, and like 6 girls. sweet.
Friday, 11:30 pm: we decide to go out, but where? there's a party at the AD frat house, but the live band is done by now and it's supposed to have gotten kind of lame. We're headed to the off campus townhouses lovingly known as "milks."
Saturday, 12:45 am: New venue, same cheap beer. nattie light is nice because it's total crap. same with milks, they're nice because they're total crap and you can have huge parties in them. i see friends and enimies. one of my boys has been on the beer pong table for the past 11 games. i'm not even joking, he's an unbelievable drinking game player. he has just declared that he will play until he passes out. i'm not sure how that ended.
Saturday, 2:30 am: we've moved down 3 houses, and about 4 cents a beer. it's keystone light now, and we're having a dance party. There's a girl there i hooked up with a couple times last weekend (we'll call her "Beatrice" for the sake of the story because i don't want to use her real name and nobody is fucking named Beatrice anymore), and it was fun so i think to myself ok O'Neill, let's fucking do this. unfortunately, she is dancing with a soccer guy who believes they're dating. darn.
Saturday, 3:15 am: Beatrice and asshole soccer guy have left the building. i'm not really having a lot of fun, because at this point it's basically a bunch of people who have coupled up and are now making out on the dance floor, and me, awkwardly drinking keystone light.
Saturday, 3:30 am: O'Neill has left the building, and is making his way back to his dorm. (3rd person just sounded cooler this time, i'll be back to the 1st person in a second.)
Saturday, 3:40 am: I return to my room to find my roommate and 3 basketball players surrounded by boxes of pizza, debating which would be cooler to have, a giant beanstalk or a giant peach. stoners...
Saturday, 4:00 am: I'm finally asleep. In my own bed, all alone. (my roommate can bear witness to the fact that i'm alone at this point)
Saturday, 12:45 pm: having just come out of a wonderful dream, i wake up. the first thought that runs through my head is the following: "WHAT THE FUCK, BEATRICE IS IN MY BED!!!!" and it was true. Beatrice has, in the night, and without waking me up, come to my room (we live in different buildings), removed her shoes and coat, and gotten into bed with me. I had literally no idea how she had gotten there. she precedes to complain about how much of an asshole the soccer asshole is, and then try to make small talk. I was confused. in addition to trying to figure out why she decided it was appropriate to climb into bed with me, i was trying to figure out the following (and i want you to respond in comments to my blog): the morning after sex, when you've spent the night, it is a good idea to cuddle. however, nothing happened between the two of us... do we cuddle? tell me what you think.
Friday, 10:00 pm: I'm in upper Lewis residence hall driking nattie light. we're playing some card game i've never heard of. it's me, my man Charlie, and like 6 girls. sweet.
Friday, 11:30 pm: we decide to go out, but where? there's a party at the AD frat house, but the live band is done by now and it's supposed to have gotten kind of lame. We're headed to the off campus townhouses lovingly known as "milks."
Saturday, 12:45 am: New venue, same cheap beer. nattie light is nice because it's total crap. same with milks, they're nice because they're total crap and you can have huge parties in them. i see friends and enimies. one of my boys has been on the beer pong table for the past 11 games. i'm not even joking, he's an unbelievable drinking game player. he has just declared that he will play until he passes out. i'm not sure how that ended.
Saturday, 2:30 am: we've moved down 3 houses, and about 4 cents a beer. it's keystone light now, and we're having a dance party. There's a girl there i hooked up with a couple times last weekend (we'll call her "Beatrice" for the sake of the story because i don't want to use her real name and nobody is fucking named Beatrice anymore), and it was fun so i think to myself ok O'Neill, let's fucking do this. unfortunately, she is dancing with a soccer guy who believes they're dating. darn.
Saturday, 3:15 am: Beatrice and asshole soccer guy have left the building. i'm not really having a lot of fun, because at this point it's basically a bunch of people who have coupled up and are now making out on the dance floor, and me, awkwardly drinking keystone light.
Saturday, 3:30 am: O'Neill has left the building, and is making his way back to his dorm. (3rd person just sounded cooler this time, i'll be back to the 1st person in a second.)
Saturday, 3:40 am: I return to my room to find my roommate and 3 basketball players surrounded by boxes of pizza, debating which would be cooler to have, a giant beanstalk or a giant peach. stoners...
Saturday, 4:00 am: I'm finally asleep. In my own bed, all alone. (my roommate can bear witness to the fact that i'm alone at this point)
Saturday, 12:45 pm: having just come out of a wonderful dream, i wake up. the first thought that runs through my head is the following: "WHAT THE FUCK, BEATRICE IS IN MY BED!!!!" and it was true. Beatrice has, in the night, and without waking me up, come to my room (we live in different buildings), removed her shoes and coat, and gotten into bed with me. I had literally no idea how she had gotten there. she precedes to complain about how much of an asshole the soccer asshole is, and then try to make small talk. I was confused. in addition to trying to figure out why she decided it was appropriate to climb into bed with me, i was trying to figure out the following (and i want you to respond in comments to my blog): the morning after sex, when you've spent the night, it is a good idea to cuddle. however, nothing happened between the two of us... do we cuddle? tell me what you think.
Monday, October 8, 2007
I Just Realized Something Very Embarassing
This is going to be hard to explain, but I'm going to do my best. So picture a State Radio concert, Chad's just beginning Omar Bay, JVest on the kit. So...in the song(and in most SR songs), the verses are of identical melodies (naturally), so it's understandable that Chad messes up the words. He's done it before for Riddle, First One Shot, as well as a couple others that escape my mind. Anyways, so he starts out the song "Dear Mr Omar Bay, Heard the news that..." and here he blanks out. He stops singing. So my dumb ass shouts "YOU WENT TO SEE GOD IN A CHURCH." Well my dumb ass didn't realize is that thats the line for the 2nd verse, not the 1st one. No wonder he stared me down like that. Anyways, I apologized to him afterwards and he said it was cool he was fine with it, but now I feel like a complete idiot. And I'm sure on the recording my dumbass outburst will be audible, so in a couple of weeks I can expect people on RLT being like "who's the idiot that shouted out the wrong words to Chad?"
Well hopefully that'll make me memorable.
Well hopefully that'll make me memorable.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
My Ears Are Still Ringing...
...from STATE RADIO (duh). This weekend I came home for my 8th State Radio concert. Overall, it wasn't the best one I've been to, but it was up there. (The best one I've been to I think was the one this past November 15. That was a VERY good show.) A minor technicality was that Chad's mic wasn't as loud as it should've been, and that his guitar overpowered and dominated the sound, which is unusual. Besides that though, I feel like a lot has changed about SR shows now. The first most obvious difference was that I wasn't rolling up to the 9:30 club with a force to be reckoned with. There weren't 12 of us, just 2: me and my friend Eli (Pollack, senior at Sidwell). That was troubling at first. It was sad not having all my friends to geek out with when we saw Sybil come out of the tourbus. It was sad not going to dinner beforehand with everyone and going insane trying to psychoanalyze Chad's previous setlist decisions in an attempt to predict tonights. Also, with 2 albums and more releases than I can count on one hand, SR is getting bigger. The stage was moved back tonight and there was a barrier set up between the stage and the audience. The club seemed pretty full. I remember the days when I'd be in the front and I could look behind me and see the linoleum floor, none of that anymore. As their popularity grows, so does my elitism. This is my 8th show (Shannon's 103rd, she exists at a level of fandom that I can only dream of. Chad gave her a shoutout in the middle of the show. She had a State Radio Fall Tour 2007 All Access Pass. I would probably lose all my friends if I began to describe what lengths I would go to in order to obtain one.) I feel like I've grown up with the band, seeing them go from opening act to headliner. It bothers me that my breathing space is taken up by unnappreciative scum who go there to only hear "Camilo" and "Right Me Up." Well after routinely waiting outside the club for 40 minutes, peeing, seeking out our front row spots, and standing...waiting patiently, the opening act came out. The female powered Afro-beat/reggae sound of Zili Misik hailing from Boston exceeded my expectations. I was skeptical at first, but they were very good. They remind me of a more reggae Angelique Kidjo. Their guitarist was astouding, finger picking impressive solos. Their drummer was their secret weapon. Unsuspecting at first, but busting out a solo at the end with an intensity rivaling that of Mad Dog's. Her solo put a very large smile on my face. After their set, it seems like no time was wasted in getting State Radio onstage. The doors opened early for this one. 7:30. Apparently, there was a DJ (whose doors were at 11:30) who was playing later that night. There was barely a wait between sets and time between the end of SR's set and the encore was shockingly short. During this time between sets I picked Shannon's wealth of SR knowledge. She told me about a time when Mad Dog came onstage for an encore and started the drumbeat for Larkin, but he got frustrated because Chad and Chuck took forever to get onstage (he wrecked his drumkit Nirvana style at the end of the show). And then I started asking about songs from the new album and which ones would get played. We talked of Gang of Thieves, and Wicker Plane, and CIA...the expected ones. And I asked about Rash of Robberies, and she said that they had been sound checking with that a lot and that she gave Chad shit about it last night and that it was kind of the reason why they (she had a friend named, Neil) were in DC. SR comes on, Chad clad in a Red Sox shirt (he actually does wear clothes besides that goofy military shirt of his). Here's their set: Waitress (Mad Dog experiences some microphone trouble), Wicker Plane, Black Cab Motorcade, Gang of Thieves, Right Me Up, Omar Bay (With Jeremy Vest on drums. Not surprisingly, Chad forgot the words to the one of the beginning lines of the song. I filled him in shouting "GOD IN A CHURCH." He jokingly stared me down. I was blessed by his gaze. After the show I talked to him and he said he appreciated it.), Time Served (They totally broke this song down during the solo section of it. Chad didn't go so much for the flight of fancy this time. He deferred to Mad Dog who went apeshit on his kit), CIA, Camilo, Sudan (With Zili Misik. This was expected, I knew that they did this the previous night. I felt like they could've done without them for this one. Not nearly as memorable as November 15th's version.), Rash of Robberies (live debut, with Zili Misik. This was absolutely epic. Probably the best song of the night. If you haven't heard the song (you've got problems), it's very fast in the beginning, almost harsh. But during the build-up, Zili Misik came back onstage gradually helping SR increase the size of their sound to an astronomical behemoth by the time it all breaks loose. Chad visibly enjoyed this song a lot.), Gunship Politico, Demok, Olli Olli, Man in the Hall --encore-- Good Graces, Rushian (After this song they progressed into a very hardcore jam after which Mad Dog literally demolished his kit). No Larkin, no Diner Song. My ears are still ringing. My train leaves at 7:30am. Goodnight.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
brewing equipment saves the earth
I recently ordered a beer brewing kit on the internet, and have begun brewing my own brand of ale out of my dorm room. However, having all of that equipment is helpful for other purposes as well. Now I can take all of the empty Natural Light, Keystone, and PBR (seriously, THAT was America's best beer in 1893?), and empty them carefully into empty beer bottles using my funnel, cap them using my capper, and refrigerate. These stale, skunked brews can then be given out to unsuspecting persons the next night who generally are too drunk to be able to tell the difference, and who are also impressed that you are classy enough to be drinking beer out of bottles. It's recycling.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Fuck Greenpeace
Nick I feel you, but it is never a good idea to fight while inebriated. Let me rephrase that; it’s never a good idea to attempt to fight when inebriated.
We were walking back from a club on Saturday night when of course we run into a group of French guys.
Let me interject something here: I have come to the conclusion that all groups of French guys suck. They suck because they are sexually frustrated living in a culture that is all about dating. By day the streets are filled with couples walking to and fro and by night all those boys left out—because they fucking suck—are free to cat call and start shit. They have nothing else to do. Of course the American girls have not realized this and so still respond to these desperate attempts by prides of losers.
So the French guys yell something profane at one of our party, who I will call Valentine, and her friend, by the name of Dana, started screaming in French at the fucktards. I had no idea what was going on, not speaking the language.
Both the Americans and the French tried their best to use the other’s language to insult them so the encounter went a lot like this:
“Vous est un Connard!”
“Fuck to you Batch!”
But then the boys came across the street and started to get physical with the girls. Not. Fucking. Cool.
After that I don’t remember exactly what happened. There was some shoving, but nothing too bad. My roommate and I were fucking pissed off though.
And I decided to take it out on the next asshole that looked at me sideways. We continued walking and some motherfucker decided to test me. We’ll I let him have it.
I woke up the next morning and my hand hurt. A lot.
I had fought a tree.
Cross that off the list of things to do before I die.
We were walking back from a club on Saturday night when of course we run into a group of French guys.
Let me interject something here: I have come to the conclusion that all groups of French guys suck. They suck because they are sexually frustrated living in a culture that is all about dating. By day the streets are filled with couples walking to and fro and by night all those boys left out—because they fucking suck—are free to cat call and start shit. They have nothing else to do. Of course the American girls have not realized this and so still respond to these desperate attempts by prides of losers.
So the French guys yell something profane at one of our party, who I will call Valentine, and her friend, by the name of Dana, started screaming in French at the fucktards. I had no idea what was going on, not speaking the language.
Both the Americans and the French tried their best to use the other’s language to insult them so the encounter went a lot like this:
“Vous est un Connard!”
“Fuck to you Batch!”
But then the boys came across the street and started to get physical with the girls. Not. Fucking. Cool.
After that I don’t remember exactly what happened. There was some shoving, but nothing too bad. My roommate and I were fucking pissed off though.
And I decided to take it out on the next asshole that looked at me sideways. We continued walking and some motherfucker decided to test me. We’ll I let him have it.
I woke up the next morning and my hand hurt. A lot.
I had fought a tree.
Cross that off the list of things to do before I die.
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