Trick of the Trade.

3 Feb


It’s been a few moons, I realize. I have finally recovered from my hang-over from hell, and I’m up and running again. Last night was the first Wednesday Night Kegger since winter break, and MY was it a great night. Everyone wets their pants at WNK. That’s how we do, baby. Somehow I always get way more intoxicated than I think I am, and in no way is that depressing.

Funny story about Wednesday night actually: Beth and I were secluding our drunk selves in a bedroom where we had discovered a Catch Phrase game. Naturally we became very excited and tinkled ourselves, and decided to spend a decent amount of time playing with it. Some time later, two girls come in and steal our Catch Phrase and start playing it. Beth and I were not happy. I decided to become proactive about the situation. I ran over to the door and go, “HEY GUYS, DO YOU WANNA SMOKE SOME WEED?!” to which they replied in an excited manner, “Well we’ve never actually done it before!!” I go, “You wanna try it?!” They were delighted and said sure. “THERE’S FREE WEED OUT THERE!!” This was not true. This was a completely fabricated idea I came up with on my own. I enthusiastically point to the living room and continue to look over-excited. They drop the Catch Phrase and bolt out the door. I go, “Yeah, go to the kid in the green shirt!!!” Then I slammed the door and locked it, and Beth and I continued to play Catch Phrase by ourselves.

There was no kid in a green shirt in the living room, just as a side note.

Anyway, in other news, I’m currently sitting in the ITC COMPLETELY alone. It’s kind of nice. The air conditioner is being loud and obnoxious like before, on the other hand. I’m drinking a fruit punch Gatorade. Speaking of which, they are so good. There is nothing more refreshing than a fruit punch Gatorade, and I will stand by that til the end of days.

Dr. Pepper still kicks ass, however.

The other night I had a dream that I got arrested for riding a shopping cart down the interstate. I was flying, too–at least 55 miles per hour. That’s nothing to joke about. Also in my dream, I tried to distract the cops from arresting me by pretending to be preoccupied with feeding ducks in a nearby river. I still got put in the tank though, so keep in mind that the duck-feeding trick apparently doesn’t work.

So you know how at wild and crazy parties, people get way too tanked and then just start destroying things? Lamps get tipped over and shattered, drapes are ripped down–people just turn into destructive barbarians. What if, instead, people started just furiously cleaning when they were wasted? That would rock. A) You’d wake up to a party that has cleaned itself, and B) You probably wouldn’t remember the cleaning process, which would also rock. Let’s try to get drunkards excited about cleaning. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it won’t.

Maybe I’ll win the Nobel Prize.

Probably not.

I’m going to do some homework. Boo.

Tomorrow: Class, Ames, Drunk, Hangover, Sleep, Eat, Drunk, Hangover.



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