Messenger Puppet

Fit and finish is OEM (look at the hatch glass)

Blurrovision, like a UAW assembler on a Monday after the Super Bowl

The Best Damn Fairmont blurb doesn’t technically apply.  Muls had one (green with a tan interior covered entirely by one sheet of shitty cheap plastic – even the seats).  Hummelberg had a newer black one with a T-roof (which acted like a torsion bar, the car was so flexy without its roof on).  Both were shitboxes compared to mine, but compared to IIs, and dorky Fairmonts, they were friggin awesome.  God, were we stupid.

OOO, I am so impressed

I understand the A Chi O’s not associating with us, just as i understood the privilege of the Alpha Phi’s deigning to appear at a joint party with us and the Fijis.

1. Money.  They had it, we didn’t.
2. Class.  They wished, we didn’t.

But the Chi Os?  Hanging with them was almost as impossible – once. maybe twice a year.  The Phi Mus would be over in a heartbeat.  The DZs were always up for a good time, and the AOPies were usually good sports.  But Chi O?

It couldn’t be the money – they rented out a dorm from Western after losing their house.

It couldn’t be that or class, as this parking lot shows:

• base Firebird  – equivalent to Pretty Boy.  Also mostly shit.
• AMC Concord – complete shit
• Ford Fiesta – same as Sheen.  Not complete shit, but cheap.
• ‘79 Ford Pinto – slightly less explosive than Pillar’s Pinto, but still beyond complete shit
• 4 cyl Mustang – same as Muls and Hummelberg.  Also, just a shitty truncated Fairmont.

You girls weren’t even Bimmer-driving poseurs, so what gives?  It’s me drunk humping the legs of everyone on your executive board, isn’t it?  (That or the fact that the Tekes and their ample doobage supplies were a lot closer.)

B-R-A-I-N-SSSSSS. (Or Prunes.)

and the delicious repleneshment of fresh corpses is running low in Hasppy Valley

Despite what your drunken penis-brain tells you, that hot redhead who reminds you of Louise (Padlock’s girlfriend) on the hysterical historical geology road trip to Niagara Falls is NOT hot for you. This is not the first time you will confuse a girl that talks to you with one who is interested in you.

It’s a really simple distinction – the first one is usually real.

Anyway, she’s just trying to get you out of the room so another couple can hook up.

Don’t worry, you DID offend her. And, no, she doesn’t have any cigarettes you can bum at 3 am, but pound on her door for 10 minutes just to make sure.

The defense held NIU’s senior tailback Garrett Wolfe to 25 yards on 18 carries, 198 yards below his season average of 223.8.

The Heisman race officially moved on seconds later.

Bronco Football Shuts Down NIU, 16-14 .

no, I just can’t say it

Clench, Joe, clench

Paterno leaves field, battling flu bug

What I can say is that his team was kicking ass without him on the field. He was back in the 4th quarter when his team went into step on their own dicks mode (aka “play like Colorado”) and bent over for the Bucks. Coincidence?

A little bit of Joe College, a little bit of big ass lake…

179. Meet a guy named Darrell at freshman orientation. Party with him and some other dork in his “suite” at the Downtowner ($19.99 per nite or portion thereof). Nearly kill yourself in a DUI going home, because DUI is still just a social issue, and is not really a violation of everything good and holy.

180. Months later, you should join a frat, and go to a party at Darrell’s frat. This is the first time you have seen this guy in months, so show him your frat is better than his because you (personally) can drink more than him and his brothers. Someone will tell you later whether you were right on either premise, Bluto. In the meantime, try to figure out what puke, your favorite yellow quasi-preppy sweater and the bath tub at the Lamb Chop house have in common. Yes, it’s that and not a Roman orgy with the A-O-PIs, you fool.

181. Go on a swamp run from the community college end. Drink, because alcohol makes you invulnerable to frostbite. On your way back, duck in the gym because there are GIRLS in there. (Never mind that they are all 16, and you are out of high school. Plus, it’s a church group doing a “lock-in”) Beg the chaperones to let you convert, as they are throwing your drunk asses into the snow.

182. Go to the nearby inland sea for pirate adventures like the following (most of these require abusing boy scout privileges):

• launch a 3 am raid on the nuclear plant that’s conveniently nearby (a raid being a stroll down the beach and happenstance discovery of this place). Look at it in that “WTF do we do now?” sort of way, which you have perfected for your dates. Tell the younger dudes that you commandeered the place. You will be so cool. Or arrested as a terrorists, depending on if this is the 80s or just 1984 disguised as 2004.

• Skip high school to go to the beach with Pod to pick up chicks. Discover topless hotties walking on the beach, 1/2 mile away. Instead of being stealthy, so you can get between them and their tops for a cheap thrill, parade towards them in the most obvious way possible, so that they run back to their chairs, and all you can see as you walk by is their adequately covered backsides. You are a dork.

• Take Phid to the beer store in town to buy beer with Tiny’s ID. Tiny and Phid are interchangeable for fake ID purposes, because they are both male, and within 100 lbs and 24″ of each other (barely).

• Drive all your hungover friends to the McDonald’s in town and back in Merloid’s Fury. At 100 mph. Or more. It’s hard to tell except that 85 mph speedometer will swing back towards zero. Back at camp, get the Fury stuck in the mud, 0.1 inches from a 100 year old Oak. Or three.

• Enter Penis, Lord of Scum mode after everyone else is asleep. Run around naked howling at the moon, nature boy. The one girl there (Yoko) is not drunk enough to boink you if she wakes up, but that’s a nice thought.

• If you can’t get a key for a legitimate entrance to the campsite, use Pod’s Le Mans to go 4 wheeling up the muddy, log-blocked “back way.” Bring a rope.

• Before the beginning of sophomore year in college, have an end of summer party. Phid, 8 Barrel and Birdy will show up on Saturday. Drink 100 Proof Popov and Squirt. Spend Friday night using a couple (or 17) cans of Raid to kill all the spiders in the cabin (think Harry Potter 2). The next night, sleep on a metal cot frame next to the bird girl, while your pals sleep outside. Pretend you are a rack of ribs. This counts as sleeping with this girl because your standards are REALLY flexible (sleeping in the same county would probably count).

Now playing: Thornley – So Far so Good

STUPID DRUNKEN THINGS NOT TO DO

Don't fuck with Wally Gator

Drive from Daytona to the gator farm in St. Augustine at ludicrous speed. When it’s time to pass the geezers, drive in the oncoming lane, while 8 Barrel and Phid, driving behind you, pass the same car at the same time, on opposite sides.

(Mustang GTs can go off-roading, in case you were curious).

It looks like this, if you pretend the outside lane is the Atlantic Ocean

Repeat this stunt (driving on the shoulder/beach to pass  on the right) the next time you are in Florida

1. to make sure it’s still stupid and
2. for pussy whip practice when your Osco GF has a conniption about your psychotic driving.

“But 8 Barrel did it” will not save you. Better start saving for a minivan.

* * *

Best Korean shitbox ever

The best way to figure out if your Festiva can top out its 85 mph speedometer is to go with Pod to Phid’s restaurant on the lake and drink like fish, before the customers get there. Then load in Pod and Mrs. Camaro (in order to maximize the downforce so the car doesn’t take flight – hey, it could happen). Neglect to check to see if the speedometer is in fact maxed, because you are too busy trying not to die at whatever crazy speed you’re up to. In a Festiva, this number is probably 65.

(If the road is long and straight and flat enough.)

* * *

Pretend that you have the will and ability to quit smoking for the 13th time right then and there (at Phid’s restaurant). Buy yourself a beer if your willpower lasts an hour. It won’t.

• Repeat this futile Nicorrette dance each time you are drinking with Pod, or have a new girlfriend.

* * *

Go to the pub in the mall with your new girlfriend Madonna, and drink two “Last Calls” (6 different liquors and 6 different fruit juices).  The recommended limit is one, so 2 should be just about right. This is a great time to play “I thought you picked up the check.” Having Madonna waiting by the door with the motor running will sorta undermine the sincerity angle if you get caught.

* * *

Go to the same chain pub in a different mall with Pod for some beers. Then drive to 8 Barrel’s house 110+ miles in 90 minutes (avg. speed: about 20 over the speed limit precisely 55 mph (highway only); avg. BAC: about [5th Amendment] over the limit exactly 0.0). This is way more impressive than rushing the school newspaper to the printers 18 miles away in 13 minutes, back in the day, because it lasted way longer. Have a woman explain the benefits of lasting longer to you. Fail to remember it anytime it would be useful. You rule!

* * *

Repeat this run to Detroit numerous times, with variations:

• lose all the clothes off the back of your motorcycle. Get a ticket.
• Blow up a Starfire in Parma. Get a ride at 3 am.
• blow up your Pontiac on the way back from a concert at the Masonic Temple in Detroit. Make that AAA card earn its keep. Try not to dwell on the real live gang bangers you taunted as you raced through the Cass corridor with a car that was about to have a coronary.
• drive to Canada to buy beer, because it’s cheaper than at 7 Eleven.
• as Pod, have the police intercept you because you were driving almost double the speed limit.
• take an abrupt detour to a lake in the middle of nowhere while you wait for the cop that noticed you speeding to NOT find you on the highway.

* * *

Drive at highway speeds down local/country roads with your lights off, to see if that car that looked like an undercover cop really was one. (He was.)  Sure seemed like he was following you. (He was.)

Learn how police interception techniques work in real life when the cops swoop out of nowhere and block you in. If you brought “suicide pills,” you can talk your way out of this by blaming a loose fan belt.

• Invent “suicide pills” (Velamints, in the pre-Altoids days) for just such an occasion. Big Red gum works in a pinch.

* * *

Try to figure out if lawn chairs can move that fast by passing out in one, after a day of painting Dribble’s pool, and swilling Bartles and Jaymes wine coolers. When you wake up, you will be on the other side of the house. Huh? Where’d those sprinklers come from?

* * *

Develop healthy habits, like having Pod pick you up every Sunday after your shift at the car wash. Go to Bacchus and grab a six pack of the weirdest beer you can find.

* * *

Meet someone named Kenneth S. B*****. Kenny works at Bacchus at some point, but will not give you a frat brother discount.

• Drive to AA for a football game with Ken at 2 a.m. on 11.1.86. Tooling around Ypsi in a Yugo looking for a place to crash is more fun than you might think when you finally get there at 4 am.
• Embarrass Ken relentlessly at the Michigan game. He wishes he was a student there. You wish you brought more beer into the stadium.
• To show what a fun guy you are, knee Ken in the gonads for real one time when you are trying to just pretend to knee him.
• That trauma may affect his brain, which will retroactively explain the business card he carried around during the Reagan years: “Ken B*****, Republican.” (Watch and rewatch the last episode of Star Trek TNG until you understand this reverse time phenomenon.)
• Ken B. went to the same school as Snell. Dribble went there too. So did Jody #2, and about 10 other girls from your church that turned you down over the years.  They still hate you, if you’re wondering.

* * *

Every Thursday, go to Pod and Dribble’s house for Euchre and must see TV. Every Sunday, go for euchre, “Nature” and “Monty Python.”

Be sure not to ever teach Dribble’s Pomeranian to drink like you do, with proportionately sized doggie buzz units. If the dog is walking funny, there has to be some different explanation, because you would never let a doggie go on a bender. (Relax, PETA, the dog will live 15 years after that.)

* * *

Remember that HS football game, the year after you graduated? The one where the kid you picked on in band had to drive you home. The one where you were hitting on the weirdo redheaded girl who lived near 8barrel, because you figured you could at least score with her (worry about consequences tomorrow, right?) The one where your Mom was in the stands and saw all this. Yup, that one. Possibly everything can be traced to the pint of SoCo you were swilling in the bathroom under the stands. You are SO COOL!!! Dumbass.

* * *

Go out for a walk and chain smoke about 4 More Menthols (the brown wrapped ones that look like thin cigars). Convince the Minute Market dude that you’re stoned (although its more like nicotine poisoning and 300/200 blood pressure). He will utter four words that will define your life (if your life parallels a guy named Chris and you are prone to turfing the high school lawn with your parent’s Buick wagon and drinking codeine-laced cough syrup on boy scout paper drives): “Keep that buzz goin.’”

(Remember the Minute Market for when need Merit Ultra Lights or a case of Lowenbrau to hide in your room, or you get some girl named Cindy who drives a blue Sunbird to buy you a pint of Chivas Regal. Ignore the fact that you could buy like 8 gallons of Huber beer for that price.)

* * *

Get busted with smokes, because your sisters (Milquetoast and Buzzkill) found them and immediately suspected you and narced to Mom. Deny that they are yours. Explain to your Mom that you bought them from a vending machine at Upper Crust (which is close to “I swiped them at Shifty Takers”), and you were going to trade them for tequila that some guy named Brian was going to get for you at the next boy scout camp-out (which almost sounds like “they’re mine”). Mom will be so proud.

* * *

Instead of tequila, takes that Chivas on a camp-out at TBJ. (TBJ is a good base for a variety of alcohol fueled experiments.) Hit the bottle a little while you are on “keep the fire going” duty overnight, then load up the stove with as much wood as possible. Grab a smoke, because booze and smokes is what Boy Scouts is all about. If only there were some hotties with you to complete the picture. Then you could sit there drinking while your buddies scored.

Anyway, now the stove cannot possibly run out of fuel before morning. (It might melt and burn down the cabin, but it WILL NOT go out) Criminal negligence is a disquieting thought, however, and Assistant Scoutmaster Darrell “Michael Jackson” Shithead, a future protective custody inmate will point this out in vivid terms at 4 am while you are trying to sleep through fire watch duty.

* * *

Try not to kill Assistant Scoutmaster Darrell *Michael Jackson* Shithead at that time or when he:

• powders his loins (to prevent crotch rot) in the middle of a campsite (and in full view – where is shrinkage when you need it?)
• screams at you to GTF outta bed at 5 a.m. because he is ready to hit the trail,
• feeds your shoelaces to the chipmunks
• adopts a kid nicknamed “Chipmunk” as his personal armrest and god knows what else.

A visit to Chipmunk - Artist's rendition

Stupid Drunken Things Not To Do

Golf, somebody else’s girlfriend, your girlfriends. What could possibly go wrong? If your friendships survive these… (well, they won’t, so don’t worry about it.)

1.  Go to 8Barrel’s house to hang out. 8barrel will crash around midnight. Continue drinking with his GF/Fiancé Easy E. Do not, under any circumstances do anything with her except drink, smoke cigs and talk about whatever stupid thing pops into your mind. (You are unlikely to run out of material.) Don’t even share the same piece of furniture. Kick yourself if you even half-entertain a thought of anything involving you + being drunk + this alive human female that will get you into trouble. This will be an important lesson later.
Go to 8Barrel and E’s swinging new pad to help them “redecorate.” Make it harder by starting as many projects for them as possible, like peeling ugly paint off the doorways and cleaning brass fixtures. Don’t finish any of them.

Guess what? Brass cleaner tastes like sulfuric acid.  Grab the right bottle when you want a hit of your beer.

2.  Show up at 8 &E’s place for beers and shit. Ignore the fact that it’s their 6 month anniversary and they would prefer boinking to your company.   This is almost universally true for every time you drop by.  Later, remind them that it was your birthday, and then bankroll the resulting guilt. You will probably need to use it later.

3.  Hop the fence at the country club to play “capture the flag” and look for your balls.  Well, they will be yours as soon as you “acquire” them. Hmm. Now that this task is over, why is your wallet not in your back pocket? %$#&^%$#&^%$. Before you make plans for survival in jail on some “trumped up” charge, maybe you should call Phid. If you’re lucky the wallet is in his car and not on the course waiting for an angry ranger to find it. He will let you fret for a couple of days before letting you know that, “yup, it’s right here. (nimrod)”  Since you never have any money, don’t bother to see if it’s gone when you get the wallet back.

Go to a different course called Thornapple. Something bad happens here. Something very bad, but you cannot remember. Tell yourself that the lack of memory (or arrest) is a good thing.

4.  Go on a sorority hayride at this same course with a girl named Theresa. She adores you. Get her alone on one of the greens and DO NOT BOINK HER right then and there.

In the weeks before the hayride, take Theresa to see a movie. Pick “The Big Chill” because you think it’s cool that everyone, including the dead guy are Michigan alums. You are completely oblivious to the fact that it’s a chick flick, but she will think you are oh so sensitive and metro for suggesting it. The heartwarming themes of camaraderie and sacrifices and yearning will light her fire, while you are sitting there wondering why they did not show more of a four year old football game in the movie.

Spend the next 3 hours in the car NOT making out. Why?

• Because you are secretly gay? No.
• Because you are hung up on Jody #2? No.
• Because you haven’t found your balls on the golf course? No, because you did that a minute ago.
• Because you are an inexplicable wuss, fearing that you will be roped into a shitty “relationship” if you fall for the sex thing? Probably the last one.

The only reason your man license hasn’t been suspended is that your frustrated dates are too nice to narc on you.

After the hayride, go home to the sorority house with her. She has arranged for a few hours of privacy, and will “spontaneously” get all naked, but DO NOT BOINK HER right then and there either.

Why? BECAUSE she is too interested in you.  Your dates, or lust objects need to loathe you, think of you like a brother, or their gay friend Maurice, be committed to someone else or otherwise unavailable.  What fun is rejection if it is not going to happen? How can you bitch about that bitch that won’t put out if she actually will, and right here and now?

5.  Obviously, as a sex hungry frat rat, you must step on her emotionally at some point (it’s the rule), but that smidgen of conscience you haven’t beaten with a 5 iron once again keeps you from getting laid before you just stop calling her pretending to be interested.

Karma:  You know, if you had worn the beer goggles, this would be a career highlight night.

After two unjustified turn downs of the same girl, your man card is immediately revoked.  Tell your frat brothers that you did her anyway. Tease the next brother that goes out with her. You’ll get your man card reinstated, under the “total asshole” exception to the “failure to get laid” violation.
6.  Go to a party hosted by Merloid in the next town over. Leave for the party when your shift at “Drug Food” ends at 8, and catch a ride with Phid and Camaro. Play cards and drink and chat. Get a little snotty and tell Mrs. Camaro to go make you a drink. Ignore Merloid joining her in the kitchen. Just drink whatever they put in front of you. That’s a good boy.

Then go sit in a car with Pod’s wife, Dribble. You have the hots for her because she :

1. is an alive human female
2. is married, so therefore unavailable to you.
3. will talk to you without screaming and running away.  [Karma:  "Obviously, she is not very bright.”]

Yeah, Baby, yeah!  Set her new Mercury Tracer on Fire Burn a hole in the roof of Dribble’s new car with your cigarette, to preserve the memory of what may or may not happen next.  [Karma:  This would be a good time to kick your own ass right out of the car before anything worse happens!!!]

It won’t work. While you have no specific memory about what happens next in that car, you will notice something that appears to be a hickey on your neck the next morning. You will have no explanation.

[Karma:  Maybe you should have asked Merloid and Mrs. Camaro to kick you instead of mixing gasoline and Everclear and serving it to you. Could that mystery drink have anything to do with this gap in your recollection? Hmmmm.]
Be sure to wait like 5 years (after the car has been crashed (by Dribble) and he lives in another state) before admitting to Pod that you “accidentally” set his new car on fire.  Never admit the apparent hickey.

7.  Later that same night [ed.: morning], spoil a trip to Denny’s at 3 am by deciding to pee in the middle of the parking lot, in full view of the customers. The late night crew always gets a kick out of this. Your friends will (again) realize that you are a dumb ass and wish that camera phones and YouTube were invented.

8.  Luckily for you, your Mom will make sure you go to work at Drug Food 3 hours later (since you are still on probation at the store), even though you stink of formaldehyde and Mercury Tracer ashes. You won’t remember the first couple of hours of your shift, and will pray for death during the remaining 6.

9.  Your ex-girlfriend Madonna will find that you work at that store. She will ask you to get a drink after work. You will accept to prove that you are not under her sexual spell any longer and can handle the whole emotional trip that comes with it. Things get a little hazy at the bar, and you will both need to yak on the ride home. Blame the food. You don’t care. The couple that barfs together…. uh, can still do something that doesn’t rhyme with “barfs” together. Go back to her dorm room and have the best drunken sex ever. EVER.

For kicks, go freshen up with some Scope from that bottle in the bathroom, but grab the shampoo instead.  (At least it tastes less worse than brass cleaner.)

Try to be invisible when the roommate comes in and pretends not to notice the extra lumps under the covers. It won’t work.

No, this doesn’t mean that every time you see Madonna it’s party time. Don’t let that stop you from trying.

10.  Agree to meet Madonna for another drink.  Bring 8 Barrel with you to the bar under Bilbo’s to keep you from hooking up with Madonna, since no matter what lies you tell yourself, you are completely out of your depth with her. Don’t tell him that despite the moral support you would leave him stranded there in a heartbeat to go tap that ass. You know you would, because you know exactly how ripe that ass is.

Audience: How ripe is it?
A: Ripe enough. Now STFU

He should know, as a man, that the chance of sex right now always trumps friendship or any future regrets, like, “I shoulda held out for dinner first.”. (He is also aware you’re not getting any elsewhere, so DUH.)

In any event, 8 will figure out his role in the scheme of things during an embarrassingly awkward moment when she’s leaving, you’re following, and the whole “don’t let me leave with her” scheme just blew up. Neither of you will care, due to beer and babe. Plus, 8 can now refuse to let you live down exactly how powerless you are with Madonna in the room, now that he’s seen it first hand. As if you care at this moment either.