The night we almost died

This is a very long weekend, so I'm sure this "blog" is a little scrambled. Hang with me.
And I'll warn you now, it's not quite as funny as the older posts, but it was a good time... only because I survived to tell it. This could be an ultimate fail, but I'll try it anyway.


So, St. Patrick's Day, 2007.

I find myself on the receiving end of an invitation to go to Savannah, Georgia to throw down for the weekend. Being the cool Freshman that I was, I accepted.

England, Keens and I set forth on our journey around noon on that Friday. It's about a 6 hour drive, only took us 8. Impressive, huh?
Don't judge, we hit Raleigh rush hour traffic, got lost, hit some more traffic, and got lost again. But we got there, and that's all that matters.

We walked in the house. We're greeted by England's friend, Winston, with beer in hand. Good start, huh?

It get's better.

We all changed, started with the pregaming, and headed to River Street. England, not quiet 21, is the responsible (seriously.) DD.

After a full-blown Tenacious D concert, we finally parked, peed between some trash bins, and headed to find the actual party.
We found it.
And it was ridiculous.

Free beer. Green beer. Lots of free green beer.
Long story short, we get drunk, we yell "ohlay ohlay" until we can yell no more, and started the journey back to the car.

But not before we're flashed by a man, take a picture with the worlds tallest man(sort of...pictured below), and Winston gets praised for her "sexy knees."

We finally got back to the car, and England safely transports a car full of drunks back to the house.

Fast forward... the next day is pretty much the same exact thing, minus 8 hours of aimless driving.
A few of the events of that day include: a bus ride, a long line, McDonald's chicken nuggets, camel-backs, morelong lines, sleeping on the bus, getting in the wrong line for a different bus, beer, Aftershock (the signature drink of our Freshman year), some dankass corndogs, and some psycho bitches.

Psycho bitches, say what? Yeah.
Psycho bitches.

We get back to the house kinda late Saturday night. Probably 2amish. We're all just chillin, ya know, drinkin some, screwin' around.
That is when the psycho bitches come in...
Around 3:30am, we heard the other people staying in the house with us (all of whom we haven't seen the ENTIRE time, but have effeciently consumed MY beer...bitches) come in. They're drunk. Very drunk.

They come running up the stairs yelling "BITCH, FUCKERS, WE'RE GOINGTO KILL YOU"...you're going to kill us?? Well, what on earth for? Let's be rational.

We didn't know, neither did they. But that didn't make them any less angry.

We just all calmly walked (sike, we ran like little cheetas) into our rooms, shut and lock the doors.

Eventually, they calmed the fuck down and went to their room.After we think they've gone to bed, we go back out into the living room to get our beers, and continue our night, assuming these wild boars had finally just passed out.
Wrong.

We start to hear them yelling again. "BITCH, YOU OWE ME 7$" to which I responded, "who, me?" and was responded to with "YES BITCH, YOU! YOU OWE ME 7$" Winston calmly replied for me, "uh it' s on your sidetable"..."OH... WELL I'M STILL GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU." and they start to get up and come after us.

Panicked, Keens, Winston, England and I all head back to our room, lock the door, and start brainstorming.We're leaving. Gone. Getting out. For our lives sake, we cannot stay (actually, we could, but we'd really rather not be murdered in our sleep, because Winston would lose her deposit)

We pack, wait til we hear complete silence in the living room, and make a run for it. They hear us leaving, and start running after us.

We are literally being chased out of the house. We are able to shut a few doors behind us to slow the bitches down, and load up (Keens, England and I) in England's car.

As we're pulling off, we see them in the rearview yelling "YOU FUCKING HIT OUR CAR WITH A BAT! COME BACK! YOU FUCKING HIT OUR CAR WITH A BAT!!!"
Hit your car?
With a bat?
What bat?
Seriously, what bat? I'm curious.

This is when you see my bright side.
Being the brave, strong, stupid solider that I am, roll down my window, take a deep breathe, and yell...
"QUE? YO NO HABLO BITCH"
("What? I don't speak bitch")

She didn't think that was very funny. Infact, that angered her even more.
Surprise!
Luckily, cars can out-run wild boars.


The moral of this story is:
If you go to Savannah, Georgia for St.Patrick's Day, fight back. Or you'll find yourself driving 6 hours back home at 5am.
Oh, and don't try to tell an Australian that he isn't from Australia because you're from Australia... you'll probably loose... especially if you're not really from Australia (our fight pictured to the left... please take note of how unentertained he looks).

You probably had to be there, but.......

I spent the Spring Break of 2008 in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, with 8 friends from school, and a few friends from New Jersey.

We had a 4 bedroom house about 2 blocks from the beach, nice weather, plenty of frozen pizzas to get us through the week... and a lot of alcohol.

Only one of those things I listed is really going to be important in this story... can you guess which one?

Amongst the people that are with me are Rebashta (Birthname:Rebekah) and Lauren. Rebekah and Lauren are honestly two of the most ridiculous souls I've ever met. Ever. And I've even met Flo-Rida and Gucci Mane... that's sayin' somethin.

Anyway.
We were sitting on the deck one night around the "table of conversation love." If conversations could have sex, this would be where it would first happen. It's that magical.

We're all sitting out there and we've each got our Busch Light and/or Miller Lite's, horribly made jello shots, and double bottles of cheap wine near by. It's about 11:30pm, and we're one of maybe 3 houses that are occupied in the 5 square miles surrounding. With that being fact (or so we thought), we were flabbergasted when we saw a group of guys walking in the road beneath our deck, and went ape shit. And by we, I mean Rebekah. Everyone else sat calmly and watched the idiocracy that was about to unfold.

It started with a simple "Hey ya'lllll" from Rebekah.
...We got a reply...."hi"

Lauren, already becomming frazzled with the lack of enthusiasm from these fellow Spring Breakers, decides to initiate more conversation.... "What's goin onnnn?"

...We got another reply... "nothin'"

At this point, we're all coming to the conclusion that either this group of people were either on a quest for personality, or drinking O'douls, thus making them still very sober.

Not happy with the reply she received, Lauren sassily flicks her wrist down below and says "forget them" and goes inside to get another beer. Rebekah wasn't backing down. Rebekah never backs down.

She yells, "wanna come party? we got jello shots"
They reply "no"
Still very unsatisfied, she makes another effort... "and beer!"
...."no"

By this time, Lauren has returned.

After getting the second "no" from these obviously very disinterested group of people, Rebekah is about to step it up a notch... We see her giggling, trying to get a straight face, and taking a quick jello shot, then she leans her head back, preparing to project her voice for all to hear.......

"HOW MANY DICKS YA'LL GOT?????"...

And Lauren, never one to be outdone, follows with...

"CAUSE WE GOTALOTTA PUSSY"

The response we received?.... silence.

Shocker, I know.

Excuse me, bitch?

So, today was the 31st day of actual class days this semester (I counted).

I have 1 class on Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays (when I go), and 3 classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You might be asking why the fuck is this relevant? Well, I'm about to tell you why.

There's this one girl in my class on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and we also have a class together on Tuesdays and Thursdays. If you do your math right, thats a class with her everyday.

I remember the first day of classes when I saw her. She was hard to miss. She had a choppy haircut (but not in the good way) and a black hoodie with vibrant letters that spelt out "UNCG". I remember thinking "oh thats a very pretty pink." Good story, huh? No? That's because it's not over, asshole.

I didn't take note of the fact that she was wearing the same hoodie everyday until I started to notice a slight stench in class. I remember it clearly, it was a Wednesday. It was 52 degrees out, partly cloudy, 40% chance of precipitation.

Being the contribution to society that I am, I considered it my duty to the class to find the culprit, and take care of it. So I started sniffin. You know how you do the casual armpit sniff to see if YOU'RE the one that smells like putrid body odor? Yep. That's what I started doing. But I wasn't smelling me, cause I knew damn well I was smellin' good. Afterall, I had already showered that month(ocean breeze scent shampoo).

I smelt all the people in my close proximity, and it wasn't any of them. So the search continued. As I was looking for the next person to sniff, a very pretty pink caught my eye. Hm.

I sniffed her.
I gagged.
Literally gagged.
I would go as far as to say I was dry heaving, except it wouldn't have been dry. My esophagus still had beer in it from the night before. But that's a story for another day.

Anyway, after texting all of my friends about the disgusting discovery I made, I started to pay attention in class. Class goes on, and every now and then I would get a repulsive sour smell hangin out in my nose hairs. I just accepted the fact that not everybody can be as well groomed as I (insert laughter here), and almost got over it.

But I couldn't. I fixated on the fact that I had NEVER seen this girl in a different outfit than the one she was wearing. Not once. This was honest to god the only hoodie I'd ever seen this girl in.

Well, today, (a Wednesday) she surprised me. She had on a different shirt. It was a navy long sleeve t-shirt that said "University of North Carolina at Greensboro" in yellow type. It was somewhat large on her, but atleast it smelt good. I texted some (read: all) friends about the revolution. I was truly thanking the good Lord above for blessing me with an unsour scented shirt on my fellow classmates.




Class ends, we start packing up.
As I'm leaving, she stops me and quietly whispers... "I think you wore that shirt Monday..."



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