A Youtube Video You Must See

Watch the whole thing. It just gets better and better.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqg_ceFM30I

FN4N (it's worth the read)

Friday Night Forty Night.
This past friday night was friday night forty night, which is exactly what it sounds like, but let me start with the beginning...

It's friday, I've just gotten out of work early to take my friend to the airport. He's going to try out for Team USA in the under 19 section of the world championships of Ultimate. that's fucking cool. anyway, myself and Justin drive down to drop him off, we get him to the airport, and we came back. The drive wasn't that exciting, except i got to see a 35 year old get carded for a box of cigarettes. That was kind of funny.

We get back and the dining hall is closed, so we go to a bar to get some quesadillas. So we're munching on some dillas and we get a call. do we want to go bowling with some seniors we're friends with? FUCK YES!!! and off we go. They've already taken a cab, so we're driving. Justin took one for the team and stayed sober because we rock out safely. I, on the other hand, drank the whole way there in the car, as well as during bowling, which justin and I won with an embarrassing 110. It was a good time. I met arguably the flyest man in the world, who was visiting his friend and my friend (the same person). What's great is that he's fly as shit AND nice and outgoing, so he wasn't intimidatingly fly, he was just a really outgoing baller. it was great. anyway, so the end of bowling comes and people are turning in their shoes. Now, I've always wanted bowling shoes, but bowling alleys usually make you switch them for your shoes, holding your shoes hostage until you bring back their shoes. This place was different. all you had to do was make it past the front desk without returning your shoes, and out through a long hallway. I saw my opportunity when all my friends were returning theirs. I kept my bowling shoes on, and put my birkenstock clogs on over them. it didn't fit, and i had to kind of shuffle, but I just pretended i was really really drunk and people ignored the awkward way i was staggering out of the place. Then all 7 of us got in the car, which is a small volvo. I was in shotgun on my friends lap, and one person was literally closed in the trunk. We got back around 11, and it was time for the best party I've ever been to: Friday Night Forty Night.

I got there and, obviously, got a forty and got to business. We were in a house with a giant living room, a dining room, a kitchen and a large balcony out into the back yard. The several boxes of forties were kept on the balcony, so when i went back in to mingle and drink, i ended up in the dining room. Remember in the beginning of the year, the girl whose computer i accidentally smashed? yeah well i was standing with justin next to her and her friend (a girl who hits on justin a lot) and so they were talking and i was talking to a few of my girlfriends friends on the other side of me. I hear tho (because she's shouting because she's drunk) the girl whose computer i smashed talking to my friend. what she was saying was "see O'Neill? he's the boy who smashed my computer." Justin started making fun of me and i had to come to my own defense and thats how we got to talking. She admitted to me that she wanted to hook up with me. Wonderful. She also forgave me! so I'm in the clear for that officially. O'Neill: 1, Computer: 0. Later in the night i found out that my friend Charlie's girl-he's-hooking-up-with, Anna, is actually a somewhat distant cousin of mine! Cool! I went outside to pee, and thats the last I remember until DKE division. All I remember is walking away as Justin comes painfully close to getting into a fight with one of them because Charlie was doing pledge related events, and we were there with Anna, who wanted to find charley. Then, I remember throwing up on the way from charlie's room to my own room. The following is what I found out later.

Outside peeing, I called my girlfriend, we spoke for about a half an hour. Then I went back inside to find justin and anna. Anna must have told me she wanted to find charlie, or maybe i just assumed she wanted to. Anyway, justin anna and I went up to DKE division where we assumed Charlie was partying because he's a pledge. On the way there I couldn't shut up about my girlfriend, to the point that it was somewhat annoying. We get up there and we can't find anyone. we see 2 DKEs and demand that they "Tell us where the FUCK Charlie is." it came off as more hostile than it should have, we just wanted to get him some poontang. Justin was telling them that "We just wanna help Charlie out!" and doing the international sign for a blowjob. The DKEs took this to mean help him get away from them, and though justin was calling them cock suckers. This HUGE miscommunication almost got his ass beat, but luckily another DKE who loves justin showed up and cleared things up. Anna and I were still on a mission to find Charlie, and decided that he has to come back to his bed, so we should wait for him in his bed. We got there and passed out. So charlie comes back from a rough night of pledging, high out of his mind, to find his friend and the girl he's been consistently hooking up with sleeping in his bed. it took some explaining. So that's what several beers and 80 oz of malt liquor will do to you. I had one hell of a night.

High Tide Part 3: Action After the Action

Third place but no trophy? that's bullshit. We needed to return to school feeling but also looking like champs. We needed a trophy. We had a keg, which was a start, but we couldn't keep it, so instead of it being our trophy, it allowed us to get it. We got wasted, but needed something to do, so we went to some Michigan State Girls Team party, thinking it sounded tight. It was NOT tight. Apperently every dude within a 46 mile radius also had heard about this party, and also thought it sounded tight. So it was a bigtime sausage fest, and nobody had anything to drink. We decided this is where we would find our trophy. My friend suggested we steal something. It sounded at the time like a good idea. He reached over to the martini clock that was hanging on the wall, removed it, and walked out of the party. A Martini Clock: like Georgetown University, a martini clock is cool in concept, but kinda lame in practice. We wanted something more bad ass. We ended up with a touristy license plate, a wind up crab toy, the clock, and the big cheese, an old steering wheel from a boat. While I never actually removed anything from the house, i was just as excited about their plunder. We decided that with the cops outside circling the block, and an arsenal of stolen goods, it was the perfect time to leave. off we went. On the way back, the drunker of my friends stole a flag off someone's house, and the second drunkest stole a life saver tube. We had a shit ton of different shit. We had our trophy. We had victory.

High Tide Part 2: The Action

So there we were, an unlikely story of a tiny liberal arts college who came down to compete against D1 universities many times our size. But first: the hat tournament. the hat tourney was fun. every team was split up, given shirts of various different colors, and assigned to a team of people who were wearing the same shirt. It was a day for goofing off and meeting new people and getting drunk. One man was dressed (surprisingly accurately) as a pirate. Another man, a team member, introduced himself as Skywalker. I still don't know his real name. Anyway, the hat tournament came and went, and now it was time for pool play. We swept the first day, and the second day we lost only to Lehigh University (they later went to win the tourney). we did pretty well for ourselves, ending a 32 game winning streak which is not a lot to complain about. The last day was the bracket. We started off against holy cross, which turned out to be skywalker's team. After beating them, we went up against Georgetown.

Now, I'm just gonna put this out there, and you can take it or leave it, but Georgetown is an interesting case of schools. The idea of Georgetown is great, but in practice, not so much. What i mean by that is this: as a concept, a university, great at basketball, in my home city, located in a prime spot, if you ignore the fact that there's no metro stop. That seems like a great concept. the problem is the students... they just take themselves too seriously for me. The name of their frisbee team was catholic justice, and they all had temporary tattoos on their faces to make themselves look badass. It just made them look lame. One of them tried to fight one of us over a line call. our player thought he was in, someone else thought he was out, they argued a lot about it, this asshole tried to fight my friend who just laughed at him, we re-did the play for his sake, and we still scored. After that we played and lost to UVA, who went on to lose to Lehigh. It was fine, we got third place in the tournament, and we had a great time.

From our standpoint it was a victory.... Almost...
there was only one thing left to do.......................

An Arrangement of Atrophious Anecdotes

Just a couple quick things. I told Cyndi this one already, but here goes...

So, back in the day when we were all shopping for colleges still, Cyndi got back from visiting Oberlin and described how the students would smoke their weed in broad daylights on the lawns while professors walked by in close vicinity. Well, I became one of those kids the other day. Friday afternoon, I just got back from working out and my friends just finished rolling a blunt so I joined them. We went outside, spread out a blanket, and smoked on the lawn in front of our building while professors and parents strolled by.

Second thing, I wore my Dispatch: Zimbabwe shirt to my drum lesson the other day. My drum teacher noticed it, "Dispatch huh? they're playing Madison Square now? I know those guys." Apparently he played with them back in the day. You meet some chillass people in college man...

High Tide Part 1: Action Before the Action

We left school around 9 on Saturday morning, a ragtag Ultimate Frisbee team from a small D3 school. Our destination: Savannah, GA. We were making the 14 hour drive in a 12 seater van, a minivan, and someone's car down to Savannah to play in an Ultimate Frisbee tournament called High Tide. So we're on our way down to Savannah for 14 hours and pretty much going nutso. anything to entertain us is huge, for example, we stopped at KFC for lunch, and we all got bouncy balls and spend 45 minutes bouncing them around a parking lot (as it turns out the stores who's parking lot it was didn't really appreciate it and two different managers came out at the same time and tag team kicked us out). Around 9 we started getting worried. not because we were still in South Carolina and had who knows how many more hours, but because of a question that was looming over us... when we get to Tybee Island (the island we were on), will the liquor store be open? Nobody knew so, to avoid disaster, we went to WalMart and bought 10 or 12 cases of miller highlife, which is truly the champagne of beers and went on our way.

When we got to our condo on Tybee Island, after a solid 14 hours, all hell broke loose... in a good way. There were 22 of us, and the condo slept ten, which sounds shitty but is pretty good. We go in and see a sweet pad. big kitchen, big living room, master bedroom, 2 bedrooms upstairs, then we go downstairs. thats where the really cool shit was. it was an unfinished basement, with about 7 matresses just waiting for us (we didn't ask for them) as well as a pingpong table which we promptly ripped the net off of and started playing beer pong, and some 4x8 foot pieces of plywood, which we promptly put on chairs and started playing beer pong on. out the back was a huge charcoal grill and a HOT TUB!!!

We all got crunk.

The next day we had all to ourselves. we went to the beach and threw a frisbee around, and then came home. This is where it gets amazing. Tom Brown, a member of my team. was on the table playing beer pong with Rob Long. they had been on the table for 12 straight games. so my friend and I challenged them and lost. Rob quit after a while, but not tom. nope. tom stayed on the table for 17 straight games. AMAZING!!! I went out to the hot tub to spend a nice night out there. after Tom's 17th straight game, he had nobody left to beat, so he did what felt normal to him and looked odd to everyone else. he walked out into the back yard, across the yard from where i was in the hot tub, and lay down in the bushes. we asked if he was ok and he said yes so we figured we'd keep an eye on him. after about 5 minutes sleeping in the bushes he gets up, takes a few steps, and boots what must have been about a case and a half worth of beer. it was amazing. I've never seen so much beer come out of someone before. we had begun drinking that day around noon, and were all shitfaced by about midnight, so in the wee hours of the morning, we went to bed and got ready for a week of Ultimate.

easily the most outrageous thing i've ever seen...

So I'm driving down Ohio Rt. 229, really in bumblefuck rural Ohio, and i pass through one of those shoot-me-in-the-face-if-I-ever-live-here towns, Marengo, OH, to be specific, that are so common in this part of the country, and out the window i see what is literally the most shocking thing i've ever seen. It was a restaurant called (i think) fajidito's. I dont know if i have the name exactly right, but it was some made up word that was supposed to sound like something mexican. It was an older looking building, clearly a tex-mex place, with old wagon wheels on the side, and that kind of thing. Also on the side, however, was a large mural. The mural was a mexican dude wearing a cowboy hat standing, smiling next to an equally happy white cowboy wearing aviators and a cowboy hat. kneeling between these two people was an angry looking asian guy, in old school chinese farmer garb. why, you ask, was he angry? because the 2 cowboys were amusing themselves by extinguishing their cigars on his head. Let me run that buy you again in case it didn't sink in... 2 cowboys, one mexican one white, putting out their cigars on the face of a chinese dude. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS COUNTRY!?!?!?!

Partying With a Murderer

So, second weekend of school this semester, I partied with a murderer.

Saturday night WM plays Old Dominion in basketball. At the time we were on a 6 game winning streak that started with ODU, so we definitely didn't want it to end with ODU. The game was at 7, naturally we started drinking at 6. Pregamed, punished a 40 and some whiskey, went to the game, went nuts, trash talked the other team, WM lost, what else is new...

It was pretty sad after the game because it was pretty close, so me and my friends who i pregamed with decided to drink our sorrows away. So that was fine, we chilled, punished more beer, 40s, and whiskey, when my roommate rolls into the room inviting us to go with him to his frat brother's apartment off-campus. Last time i was there it was pretty chill so I was excited.

So after getting our shit together and arranging rides we get there and theres pong going already in the front, hookah in the living room, various bottles of beer and absinthe in the kitchen. I was already pretty hammered by the time I got there so I signed up for pong, took a seat, and took it easy.

So i get up for pong and about 2/3 into the game someone comes in from outside and says to the host "yo, your neighbor wants to talk to you." Just before the door closes i catch a glimpse of a short, stocky black man smiling back at me. I gave it no thought and continued my game. It was falling to shit, it was past the re-rack and there were only like two cups left and it was just getting tedious. My partner was so drunk she had to lean against a wall for support and I knew that this shit had to finish up quickly.

So evreyone got wasted. Well somehow in the drunken haze, the black neighbor of the host of the party was at the party! His name was Tony and he was fuckin creepy from the start. He tried his best to understand the game of pong but ended up just throwing the balls into his own cups so he could drink. He made all the girls uncomfortable with the way he'd touch their stomachs and engage in conversations with them about pregnancy all while calling them sexy. He brought us a pizza he made that was practically bread with melted american cheese on top. He poured out libations on the table to his friends who are in prison or have died. He told everyone in the party that they had to refer to my roommate as "original" and anyone who didn't would get a bullet in their head. He mocked one of my friends saying "whats up dude" in the best surfer vernacular he could muster. Once my friends started smoking weed, he asked "where the weed at?," smoked their bowl with them, and referred to weed as "gold" after that.

Did I mention his tattoos? You know that saying used to describe situations where everyone in the room is aware of an uncomfortable topic that should be addressed but no one wants to speak up and say anything about? The one about the awkward elephant in the room? Well the elephant in this room was the size of a teardrop...the teardrop tattooed under Tony's eye. That scared everyone shitless. We all knew what it meant and the whole time he was around people were whispering shit into each other's ears like "yo...if shit hits the fan, im running out the back and taking you with me."

Well, we were all weirded out by him and we bounced like Tigger. I got back to the dorm, threw up, and went to sleep.

read this after you read my last post...

i forgot to say....
just a tidbit of info...
in ohio, the state in which i went streaking, if you get arrested for streaking, you have to register as a sex offender and go door to door and tell all the neighbors you're dangerous. thank god i didn't get arrested.
one love

BLACKOUT! (how to piss off your girlfriend)

It's saturday around 8. I'm racing to the mainstage theater on campus to catch "Blood: of Brothers and Sisters," an experimental ensemble performance piece in disguise as a play. needless to say it didn't make a lot of sense. anyway, it was closing night, so after I left the show, and after stopping briefly at my friend's appartment for a beer or 4 and some laughs, i went to the after party. It was the first party I've ever attended with a professor, which was cool, because the professor was drinking out of a handle of grey goose, and I was drinking shitty beer and shitty whiskey. after a few beers and a few shots, i started feeling sick because i had had way too much to drink in only about an hour. Pop quiz: what's the best thing to do if you're drunk and you feel sick? a) lie down and/or call it a night, b) eat bread or something else starchy, c) boot, get it over with, and continue drinking. thats right... c. so i booted and grabbed a couple key lights to wash the taste of the shitty dinner i had eaten several hours earlier out of my mouth. after a couple hours we decided it was time to pay our good friends, the brothers of Delta Kappa Epsilon, a visit, so we headed up to their area. we got there and it was good times all around. we continued to drink and everything, we rocked out to some salsa music and some classic rock and maybe a little snoop dogg. then it hit. the blackout. now, counter-intuitively, it was not me who blacked out. it was the building we were in. the power was gone, and never have I seen all hell break loose as quickly as it did then. within 2 minute of the power outage, there was a naked french 20 year old encouraging, will ferrel style, everyone to join him in streaking. the masses responded well, and people got naked. everyone headed downstairs to watch the streakers go, and my friend justin and I decided that it looked like fun, so we went and hid our clothes in a corner, and ran outside. after a lap of the building and much shaking of our genitals in the direction of innocent bystanders, we went back to get dressed but UH OH!!! no clothes. they were stolen except our shoes and socks. so we went around looking for them in the building. we found his boxers, then the rest of his clothes, then my shirt and coat, which i put on. so here I am, naked from the waste to the feet, walking drunk around a dorm in the pitch dark, looking for my pants. so i'm walking down the hall, and I see a door open. in the door is a girl who was looking confused. she was confused because she had come into her room to find a pair of boxer and a pair of pants that were not hers or anyones that she knew of. Then she looked up and saw me, a man with no pants and no boxers. it was hard to explain myself to her and harder to explain myself to my girlfriend.

coming soon...

hey everyone, sorry i've been such a flake lately when it comes to the blog, but i promise i've got some shit coming at you tonight. tune back in and find out why almost every graduate of my college is technically a sex offender, learn the multiple meanings of blackout, and learn how not to please your girlfriend.

It's Been Awhile...

My shit's been busy this semester. I'm only three weeks in and I've already landed a job at the library, found a recording studio on campus, and gotten entirely too fucked up while partying with a murderer (expect a blog post about this soon) all while contemplatinng the various ironies of college life. But now I'm here to tell you about my latest accomplishment: today, I made a bong out of bamboo.

It started earlier in the week. It was a sunny day, around noon. I had just gotten out of class and I was sitting on the porch drinking my last beer and talking to my girlfriend. The clumsy dumbass that I am I managed to drop my phone mid-conversation off the side of the porch. Luckily, I was on the first floor so I just hopped the rail and landed in a patch of Ivy under a tree. Lying in the Ivy under the tree were three dead bamboo branches of varying sizes. I picked them up and put them on the porch, and after I finished talking to her I brought them inside.

My roommate was asleep when I went in the room, so i repeatedly poked him gently in the side until he woke up.

"What the fuck is this?" he said.
"Fuckin' bamboo," I replied.

My intentions were to cut each of the sections and make bongs out of them so me and my friends would each have bamboo bongs. Well I toyed with the idea with some of the guys on the hall.

Yesterday is when we seroiusly got to work on manual labor of the production of the bong. We got a pocket knife saw and cut some of the branches down to appropriate sizes. So we found a good sized branch and cut through one of the barriers separating the sections of it. After some debate, we decided that we'd take the bowl and stem from an old piece of mine ("Woody" if anyone was familiar). The piece could be unscrewed and disassembled into various parts and we assembled it into a straight piece (this may confuse people becuase the structural properties of this bowl are similar to Optimus Prime, but we didn't use Optimus). So with a screwdriver and a knife we put a hole in the side inserted the piece (to which we modified by adding a stem from a mechanical pencil to make it longer) turned it at an angle and sealed it with poster gum. A little higher up and 90 degrees away from the bowl we put a smaller hole for the shotgun. Cool stuff huh?

I think we're gonna christen it tonight. I feel pretty innovative.

Any ideas for names?

Super good night

So in the interest of keeping up with the blog, and not having a story of my own yet, here’s a funny incident that one of my new friends told me about. It happened to two of his friends in SoCal last spring.

These two guys had been at a grad party which had gotten loud and a little out of control. As is the case with almost every high school party that is any fun at all, the cops showed up. Luckily, the two slipped out of a side door and jumped in their car. When they reached the end of the street, of course, there were two cop cars blocking the way.

The driver passed the breathalyzer but stupidly gave the suspicious cop the permission to search his car. The cop looked through the trunk and then moved on to the backseat asking the standard, “Is there anything I should know about in here?” questions. As far as the two boys knew, no, there was not.

That’s when the cop reached into the driver side seat pocket and pulled out… a handgun.

Now. I’m not sure what would be going through my mind if a police officer produced a firearm from my own car but I think it would be something to the gist of jumping into oncoming traffic.

The cop calmly told them to, “Put their hands where he could see them,” and “not make any sudden movements.” The pair complied, absolutely mortified.

“Does one of you want to tell me what the hell this is?”

The boys didn’t speak. The cop stood there looking at their ashen faces.

Then he started to chuckle.

“Just kidding,” he said, placing the gun back in his holster. “Have a nice night.” Clearly, Supertroopers has had a few unintended consequences.


Hope you guys are doing well.