–As Cracker, karate kick the back of the toilet and break off the water inlet tube. (There IS a technical term for this thing.) Once you do this, the toilet is out of commission. Plus, flooding – BONUS!!! Mom will be so proud!
The mechanics are really simple: run down the hall at full speed, hoping to make the toilet before the hangover spew is in full tsunami mode. Make that turn bouncing on one foot. Except you are wearing socks. And, it’s a linoleum floor. Between that and the projectile spew that is just now cresting – you are going airborne in a gyroscopic pirouette rotor of doom move,
Karma: Only if they haven’t met their dork quota.
–Score some domestic “dope” (an actual weed, that looks like WEED).Go to a former insane asylum and smoke dat shit with 8 Barrel. Dude, yer so wasted.
Karma: Or not.
If that doesn’t work, light a match, blow it right out and sniff some phosphors ‘n’ shit. 8 is full of good ideas.
- If sniffing match heads does nothing except singe your nosehairs, smoke some Boy Scout kirchcord.(remove the nylon core first, nimrod).Dude, that looks just like a joint.
- Never try to smoke dried up lettuce wrapped in wax paper. Don’t ask.
–Go to an engineering school demonstration at Michigan State. Your folks will think it’s career exploration. Really, you’re just going up there to drink a couple beers with 8 Barrel and smoke a few Tareytons. Don’t forget to steal some from your Uncle first (and steal the Buds from pops before he switches to Natty Light or something.) Man, that ½ a beer and the smokes still have you buzzed 3 hours later.
Karma: Or you’re a dork.
Next year, go to the same thing w/o the parents, but with 8 and Jimmy V. (of the infamous donuts in the median of I-69 fame). First, take your life savings to the liquor store in the ghetto (Better hope that Sterno bum buys what you ask for, instead of a bottle of ripple.)
–At career day in science class, impress the kids at your new school with how cool you are by describing your intended career as a FPERET (fermented plant experimental research engineering technician), like your uncle, “Al C. O’Holic.” No, Kip will not be impressed, despite getting the oblique and subtle joke. OTOH, Becca’s sister Lindsay will apparently take this as career advice.
–Get loaded at Shelley, Lisa and Krissy’s basement apartment. It’s a balmy summer night, so ease on over to your nearby frat house – you’re a wolf on the prowl. Say hey to Skeletor while you’re there. As you stumble back to the apartment for a fun night of “floor coma,” don’t pay any attention to gang banger wannabes behind you. Ignore their contention that your hat looks cool in a State Farm actuarial auditor kind of way.
Karma: I.e., you are the dorkmaster 9000.
When you get to the stairs, three things happen: you wind up at the bottom of the stairs in a blink, there is a big ass rock right next to you, and for some reason your have no air in your lungs. Obviously, you had a run in with the Crip fashion police. It is completely impossible that you just tripped down the stairs in a stupor and landed on the rock. Use this real or presumed attack to garner sympathy from the girls and score easily. Or pass out. Your choice. Only one will work. The latter one.
–Your Marquis is straight from Pimp My Ride. Don’t hate on those fools that park too close when you’re partying at Shelley, Lisa and Krissy’s. Instead, show some love. Bend their antenna like a coat hanger, so that they will not be stranded if they ever lock their keys in that POS that is 2 inches off your bumper.
–Wait until your Dad goes through a midlife crisis where he marries some harpy named Jane. You will be a good son and show up to his wedding (unlike Milquetoast or Cracker). You and 8 Barrel will help him move. You and 8 and Phid will even visit in the dead of night. At no time will sobriety be appropriate (or possible).
–Go to Liz Mango’s for a party. Her dad (Ward Cleaver, VP of world domination or something at the International House of Rogaine) is there, and so is Mrs. Cleaver. He’s a nice guy – chauffered you to the 9th grade dance in his exotic supercar after all. So. show ‘em how a beer bong works, right there in their kitchen. Parents love that.
–Reflexively give your real name when you pick up a street walker named Apple behind the Kalamazoo Center as a birthday present “for a friend” because you are too scared of this person to think straight. It SOUNDED like a good idea to do this at the time. Offering her rum-soaked grapes will not make her forget it. Maybe crack withdrawal syndrome will work to your advantage. Failing to bring exact change will not win any favors with this entrepreneur, either (bottles to return for a deposit and sofa change are not accepted forms of payment, and neither is American Express). Give it up, you can’t afford it, and the joke ain’t worth it. Drop her off three cities over, so you can GTF outta there before Huggy Bear starts looking for his commission on a $0 non-transaction. (Tell her you’re looking for an ATM).
[Be glad you're not sitting in the back seat, where she is. Be glad the car full of mostly virgins could not scrape together more than $7. Never order another "7 and 7" after this event. No. not ever]