Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Again with the E-Comedy - Drunk People!
I love drunk people! God bless you drunken bastards!
I especially love messin’ with drunk people. Like rearranging the furniture in their apartment while they are in the bathroom. Even better, a drunk person that has passed out! Yeah, gimme a passed out drunk guy and a Sharpie and I’m in heaven!
Do you ever get those emails that are titled “Never Get This Drunk?” Those are SWEET! They have pictures of people that have puked on themselves and stuff! Awesome! There’s always pictures of people who passed out and were written on or had some body part shaved… Some guy was kind enough to pass out in his own bed, only to have his buddies saran-wrap him to the mattress! Then there are the two guys that passed out and their “friends” stripped them naked and made them spoon. Try explaining morning wood the next day in THAT situation.
I went out with some friends from work the other day and we somehow got into a conversation about the first time you got drunk and crazy things people did in college when they were plastered. One of our directors was telling some stories about his roommate, which always ended with us questioning natural selection.
Then the girl sitting across from me spoke up. She was very pretty, mid-30’s, married with two kids – a little mom weight, which is fine. Just a beautiful girl. She told a story about visiting her cousins in Arkansas when she was 19. They had a homemade gin mill, “and you had to strain the alcohol through a paper towel. And it STILL made your tongue tickle!”
I was waiting for the Blue Collar Comedy Tour to bust in!
(In fake Jeff Foxworthy twang) “If you are drinking alcohol that has to be strained through a paper towel, yyeeewwwww might be a redneck!”
(Pretend to be writing on hand) “Will drink damn near ANYTHING to get drunk – here’s yer sign.”
Then I started to think about it a little. Back when this girl was 19, before the husband and kids and mom weight, she was probably pretty hot! And willing to drink that crap to get drunk? Now I’m thinking, “git ‘er done!”
I didn’t go to a fun party school for college. I didn’t go to Texas or Florida or California where the girls have two primary goals: 1) get drunk, and 2) no visible tan lines. Nope, I went to Creighton university in Omaha Nebraska where there are two basic seasons: 1) freezing rain with fifty below wind chill, and 2) tornado. Not only that, but Creighton is a private Catholic university, so most students came from small private Catholic high schools. Go ahead; picture the classic Catholic schoolgirl in the white knee-high socks and the plaid skirt and the white oxford. Now, let’s turn her into a Creighton girl!
Keep in mind that Creighton is in Omaha Nebraska, which means many of the students were from Nebraska and surrounding states, such as Kansas, Iowa, South Dakota, etc. I understand that there is a lot of inbreeding going on in those states, so your Creighton girl needs a minor deformity. Something slight, like a droopy eye or one nostril bigger than the other or a hair lip. In fact, the best player for the women’s basketball team was totally cross-eyed. We’d yell, “Throw it to the cock-eyed bitch! Yay, she scored! Go cock-eyed bitch!”
Also, (remember the location) people in that area of the country are usually about 5-15 years behind as far as style and fashion are concerned. Many of them still have mullets and wear Buttafuco/Zuba pants. So, your Creighton girl should have either a really bad perm or 6-inch high mall bangs.
Since Creighton is in Nebraska, you’re going to have to corn-feed your Creighton girl now. Just simply add about 40 extra pounds at least.
Now how does your cock-eyed, hair lipped, perm haired, chunky Catholic schoolgirl look?
You know, our cheerleaders were so fat, we used to call them the Moo Crew! In fact, I think we had a special budget for herding dogs to get them on and off the basketball court during timeouts.
Not many were cute, but I look back at my yearbook now and think of how I adapted to the environment to start hitting on some of them! Even better – they would play hard to get! Yeah, THEY were being picky! You’re drinking an Old Mill, but I’m not good enough? Oh, sorry – I forgot – you’re “saving yourself.” For what exactly? You ain’t getting any younger and my standards can’t get any lower!
I especially love messin’ with drunk people. Like rearranging the furniture in their apartment while they are in the bathroom. Even better, a drunk person that has passed out! Yeah, gimme a passed out drunk guy and a Sharpie and I’m in heaven!
Do you ever get those emails that are titled “Never Get This Drunk?” Those are SWEET! They have pictures of people that have puked on themselves and stuff! Awesome! There’s always pictures of people who passed out and were written on or had some body part shaved… Some guy was kind enough to pass out in his own bed, only to have his buddies saran-wrap him to the mattress! Then there are the two guys that passed out and their “friends” stripped them naked and made them spoon. Try explaining morning wood the next day in THAT situation.
I went out with some friends from work the other day and we somehow got into a conversation about the first time you got drunk and crazy things people did in college when they were plastered. One of our directors was telling some stories about his roommate, which always ended with us questioning natural selection.
Then the girl sitting across from me spoke up. She was very pretty, mid-30’s, married with two kids – a little mom weight, which is fine. Just a beautiful girl. She told a story about visiting her cousins in Arkansas when she was 19. They had a homemade gin mill, “and you had to strain the alcohol through a paper towel. And it STILL made your tongue tickle!”
I was waiting for the Blue Collar Comedy Tour to bust in!
(In fake Jeff Foxworthy twang) “If you are drinking alcohol that has to be strained through a paper towel, yyeeewwwww might be a redneck!”
(Pretend to be writing on hand) “Will drink damn near ANYTHING to get drunk – here’s yer sign.”
Then I started to think about it a little. Back when this girl was 19, before the husband and kids and mom weight, she was probably pretty hot! And willing to drink that crap to get drunk? Now I’m thinking, “git ‘er done!”
I didn’t go to a fun party school for college. I didn’t go to Texas or Florida or California where the girls have two primary goals: 1) get drunk, and 2) no visible tan lines. Nope, I went to Creighton university in Omaha Nebraska where there are two basic seasons: 1) freezing rain with fifty below wind chill, and 2) tornado. Not only that, but Creighton is a private Catholic university, so most students came from small private Catholic high schools. Go ahead; picture the classic Catholic schoolgirl in the white knee-high socks and the plaid skirt and the white oxford. Now, let’s turn her into a Creighton girl!
Keep in mind that Creighton is in Omaha Nebraska, which means many of the students were from Nebraska and surrounding states, such as Kansas, Iowa, South Dakota, etc. I understand that there is a lot of inbreeding going on in those states, so your Creighton girl needs a minor deformity. Something slight, like a droopy eye or one nostril bigger than the other or a hair lip. In fact, the best player for the women’s basketball team was totally cross-eyed. We’d yell, “Throw it to the cock-eyed bitch! Yay, she scored! Go cock-eyed bitch!”
Also, (remember the location) people in that area of the country are usually about 5-15 years behind as far as style and fashion are concerned. Many of them still have mullets and wear Buttafuco/Zuba pants. So, your Creighton girl should have either a really bad perm or 6-inch high mall bangs.
Since Creighton is in Nebraska, you’re going to have to corn-feed your Creighton girl now. Just simply add about 40 extra pounds at least.
Now how does your cock-eyed, hair lipped, perm haired, chunky Catholic schoolgirl look?
You know, our cheerleaders were so fat, we used to call them the Moo Crew! In fact, I think we had a special budget for herding dogs to get them on and off the basketball court during timeouts.
Not many were cute, but I look back at my yearbook now and think of how I adapted to the environment to start hitting on some of them! Even better – they would play hard to get! Yeah, THEY were being picky! You’re drinking an Old Mill, but I’m not good enough? Oh, sorry – I forgot – you’re “saving yourself.” For what exactly? You ain’t getting any younger and my standards can’t get any lower!
posted by Pat Angello, 5:58 PM
3 Buffaloes were bitter enough to post comments:
Why do I suspect Creighton girls all look like Steve Buscemi with a wig?
Probably because you thumbed through my yearbook when we lived together!
I stumbled across this the other day and I do believe it might be just the kind of thing you are looking for: http://unix.rulez.org/~calver/pictures/day_after_party/
And, if you drop back one level in the URL (to end at "pictures") there are all kinds of things. Some good, some bad, some nasty, some funny. It's a big ol' mess o'stuff.
And, if you drop back one level in the URL (to end at "pictures") there are all kinds of things. Some good, some bad, some nasty, some funny. It's a big ol' mess o'stuff.