What I've Been Up To

OK. So when I created Crayons Taste Good as my address I set this whole thing up to be a listing of the adventures of my friends and I. Our 'Life and Times' written down for all of cyberspace to enjoy. So far I've just been a stark raving bitch about odd little things that have happened in our day to day lives, but today I've got an actualy 'life and times' entry for y'all. Here goes....

As everyone knows, the weekend in Kentucky starts on Thursday night. This is because kids here go home over the weekends, like, every weekend, so Thursday night becomes the logical night to go out with the crew. So the women's rugby team (yay lady ruggers!) gets this bright idea to go out to the club with a bunch of the new rookies. It's a good way to get to know people off the field and outside of practice. But the club here sucks. We have one in Richmond that people under the age of eighteen can get into and it BLOWS!!!!!!! Especially on Thursday night when everyone and their incestuous cousins are down there. So we decide we're not going to go there, but to Knoxville where there is a club called Cotton Eyed Joes. Knoxville is in Tennessee for all of you who are geographically disinclined. It's TWO HOURS AWAY!!!!!!! So we meet up at nine, cuz, honestly, who wants to be at the club EARLY. And show up at Eleven-ish. Only one car gets horribly lost, but they make it in due time. Those of us who aren't twenty one are branded with giant N's and O's on our hands. Says, NO to the bartender if you try to get a drink. They have a mechanical bull at this place and we get two of our rookies to ride it. Oh yeah, and the bull operator is hititng on one of the rookies HARD! So we laugh as they ride the bull and complain about their thighs hurting afterwards. Then they go to do Karaoke. Bad Idea. They pick some song that is so freakin' fast it's ridiculous. The one rookie (who's twenty one) is pouring whiskey down her throat like it's water. She's getting wasted. Guys are hitting on our cute players (not me though) and talking up the one returner because she has a full back tattoo of angel's wings that fade from blue and purple at the top of her shoulders to red at the top of her ass. She enjoys showing off the work. So these drunk asses are talking her up and the rest of us (who aren't getting hit on) are making fun of people. Especially the couple we've lovingly deemed, "The Train Wreck". Now, the Train Wreck consists of (we think) two separate people. One semi attractive country boy and a blonde country girl. We think they're separate but when we first saw them we weren't quite sure because his tongue was so damn far down her throat. We laughed it off. Then he did the ass grab. OH MY GOD! This is so far into PDA it's disgusting. So some people are watching, but generally laughing at the whore-ishness of it all. We're having a good time....and they quite obviously are too. They decide to move though and go one hundred and eighty degrees to the other side of us where he can sit on a bench against the wall and she can stand in front of him. They continue their Tonsil Hockey match. Some of our better spies keep watch. His hand goes up the back of her shirt, looking very much like he was trying to get her bra off. Then it went up the front of her shirt. Hello, that's not meant to be displayed in public. Then, apparently while I wasn't looking, he went DOWN THE FRONT OF HER PANTS! They were all but having sex in front of the entire club. I mena, I was ready to take bets to see how long it was gonna be before they stripped buck nekkid and just screwed the lights out of each other. They finally came up for air (seriously, I don't think they had yet) and EXCHANGE NUMBERS! We're floored and laughing. So I leave for a minute and go to the bathroom and when I return I get the update from a rookie. Apparently they finished their make out session while I was gone (no sex) and returned to the original table. No one was quite sure, but they're pretty sure the woman sitting at the table was the GIRL'S MOTHER! Mother, Aunt, older neighbor...it doesn't freakin' matter.....the chick was practically screwing this guy in the corner and there was a matronly figure with her! Jesus Christ! So why are we referring to them as Train Wreck? Because as my brother would say, the whole event was "horrible, terrible and ugly. But, like a train wreck, you are compelled to look." So we stick around until two thirty AM. The club doesn't close until Three. Some of our girls get asked to dance, and we make fun of them, lonely bitches that the rest of us are. Then we go to Awful Waffle. While there we see some people from the club, including one hottie and his uncle. Apparently this kid is gonna be Brownie's future husband. So anyway, we drive the two hours back to campus which puts my happy ass into bed at roughly five thirty. Now, yes, I told Brian I'd call him, but I was tired and had no energy (sorry Brian). So I wake up four hours later to study for a test that I had. Ooops...yeah, school's a bitch.

The test was easy, and so was my next class. Then I went back to my room and couldn't sleep. Even if I wanted to. So I stayed up. Then went to dinner, went back to my room and chilled for a while. By Ten o'clock my eyes were heavy and by eleven I was in bed passed out. I slept until nine the next morning....best sleep of my life. So anyway, Saturday dawns and I go get breakfast. Today is Maze Day. The day where four of us trek up to Indiana to go to an absolutely BITCHIN' party. So we get ready. Now, Ali and I have made shirts for the occasion that say "TKB Drinking Team" which everyone knows represents the imaginary frat/sorority Tappa Kegga Beer. We are proud of our shirts, but we look like the fucking Bobsey Twins. Tough noogies. So we finally get to Indiana, eat dinner and go to the frat house. And boy let me tell you what.....

First we'll talk about the Frat. They are called Triangle. They are an engineering fraternity out of Rose Hulman University in Terre Haute Indiana. They are KNOWN for this party. Now I went last year and had a blast, so this year was a definate repeat venture. The whole point of Maze is that they build a ginormous maze in the common room of the frat with nothing but cardboard and duct tape. This thing is sturdy enough to support the weight of the brothers walking on top of it. It is a marvel. There are even 'secret rooms' inside the maze where brothers can take lady victims. It's interesting. They build a tunnel out of stacked cardboard to get into the house and also a cardboard/ziptie wall around the house to keep other frat boys out. Boys not belonging to the frat have to be on a list and pay to get in, girls get in free...well, duh. So anyway, this year we go up and get in the house and start drinking. Budweiser was the sponsor so we were drinking Busch Light. Wow....cheap beer.

I hadn't started drinking yet (the beer hadn't yet been set up) and didn't feel like slugging down Mojitos cuz they were nasty. Anyway we get the offer to do whiskey shots. Now I'm definately a whiskey girl and go to do the shots with everyone else. It was shit whiskey. S-H-I-T SHIT WHISKEY. THe stuff that's just nasty going down....and we did double shots. Yuck. shots being done, I need a beer to chase it. So we head out. Everyone else in our group is drinking wine coolers, I'm sluggin back beer. yippee me. So we wander, but we aren't really socializing much. Everytime we try, guys seem sort of leary. One guy takes a mondo interest in Emily. No one else seems interested in the rest of us. Kylen is a real conversationalist and is chatting a bunch of people up, and Ali and I are just drinking. So we go through the maze a few times, meet a few cuties it was all good. Anyway, the following ovservations were made.

1.) Kylen gets this one all to herself. Here's a very accurate description of the guys at the party...

"half the guys have their hats all on sideways and their collars popped and they think they're all cool and shit and the other half are like "Hey, I got this outfit at the goodwill" and are all like "I'm so cool....look at me!""

This is true. Standard attire for the night would seem to be, jeans and tees if you were from the frat, Jeans and button downs if you weren't or you had a hat on sideways and your collar popped. Or if you were from the frat and a dork, you were wearing nasty colored pants, tweed jackets, mismatched button down shirts and six-year-olds ties. Not classy in the least.

2.) Girls are whores. It's thirty degrees out and they're showing up with a yard of fabric covering their bodies. I swear this one girl had less than a quarter yard of white fabric wrapped around her hips and was trying to pass it off as a skirt. Oh my god, go get some decency. Most were wearing club shirts or tank tops....and then mini skirts and heels. I wore heels....but I was wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt. So were the rest of my group...come on. These girls couldn't hold liquor either...they were hanging on people and grinding on guys and....oh it was a terrible display of femininity.

3.) So we're standing around, minding our own business when a total hottie catches my eye. Probably wouldn't have ordinarily except that I had to look up to see him. Now ladies, let me tell you he really was a cutie. Dark hair, narrow features, cute eyes.....SUPER CUTE smile. But the mother fucker was tall. I'm a tall girl at 5'9....I hit roughly 5'11 in heels when I stand up straight....he was WAY taller than I was. So Emily tries to start a conversation cuz I'm too shy to. She can't even hear him and he's gotta bend way down to talk to her. My interest is piqued, I want to know how tall he is. So we wait around and later I see him. I finally get enough courage to tug on his sleeve and ask the question that's been gnawing at me since I've seen him...."How tall are you?" Well, that wasn't the only question, I must admit, but that's the only one that I had balls enough to ask. He grins and says "Six Nine." Six foot nine. Six foot fuckin' Nine. He's a whole feakin' foot taller than I am. Oh my god. I think I just died. Oh, and ladies, he was ALL LEG.

4.) So Ali and I are anti-social. Big freakin' deal. I don't care enough to start a conversation. So this guy staggers up to Ali and I and the first words out of his mouth are "Are you girls cops?" Granted, we were wearign matching dark blue shirts, so I'll give him the cop guess, but the two of us are holding onto Beers.....yeah, cops are really gonna stand there swigging beers. So we tell him no, but that doesn't convince him. He then asks if we've been through the maze and if we know how to get through to the other side. Of course we do, so we escort him through and he says he'll be back to talk to us later. His name is Jimmie, and Jimmie is of course drunk.

5.) So the party is dragging on and everyone is getting drunker. Except for me. I'm not feeling much of anything. Emily is still talking to Chris (guy in bad tweed jacket, bright green pants and a six year olds tie.) and she sends chris's buddy over to talk to me. Chris's buddy is a shady mother fucker, but that's ok. He starts talking to me. He likes my shirt. He says he wants a TKB shirt...."Will you trade me?" I say, sure. He's surprised. So he gets me upstairs and finds me a shirt to trade. Now I really wanted a shirt that said Triangle or Maze on it, but he was gonna give me one that said something about mud volleyball.....no thanks. that's not a fair trade for an original Nee Nee and Ali Design. There are only two TKB shirts in existence and they were both at this party. So he digs through this guys closet...not even his or his brothers, and starts scrounging for a suitable trade. Now, he can't give me a triangle shirt because he's not a triangle, but he eventually finds one that says Rose Hulman on it. This is suitable for trade. So I strip out of my TKB shirt and put on my brand new Rose Hulman Shirt. I go back downstairs. Now the whole exchange took roughly ten minutes (the rest of the group swears it was closer to twenty) so you know what they were thinking was going on. ANyway they give me hell about it when I get back downstairs. By this time, the party has ended and it's time for us to go home.

Now, we can't leave yet cuz we're supposed to bring Emily's brother Jimmie home. Ali is relaying to me the fact that the other Jimmie (the one who thought we were cops) is STILL convinced that we're cops and no amount of convincing will get him to believe otherwise. He said he wanted to go camping with us and get drunk, but he never took our numbers and never gave us his, so I guess he's shit out of luck for that idea. This other guy, named Andy walks up to us and starts a conversation. Now, I'm not convinced 'Andy' is this kids real name. I'm thinking more along the lind of Adams....as in Grizzly Adams. This kid is short (well, who isn't when Mr. 6'9 is still bouncing through your brain) barrel chested and has a thick beard and long scraggly hair. It's nuts! Anyway, he starts talking to me because I look like I'm an easy going person and that he can talk to me because he doesn't just talk to anyone, because some people are uptight ass holes, but I don't look like one of those types, I look like I'm real easy going. I say, most of the time. Something gets brought up about rugby. I'm not drunk enough to be dealing with this kid. I'm in Bitch mode. So he's all like "DUDE! You play rugby! That's fucking awesome! You Rock! Someday, you're gonna be my wife....not anytime soon of course....but someday." And he walks away. We finally see Jimmie, but he's going upstairs to the rest of the frat house. He's gone where we cannot follow. So we hop in our car and speed away.

Now on the way home I drunk dial Brian. But he doesn't answer his phone so I can't talk to him drunk. The one time I try to call him and the bastard doesn't pick up. Thanks Brian.....

Then we drunk dial Jesse. Jesse is supposed to be doing Re-con for us. He's failing at operation To be or not to be and Ali and I are drunk so we're calling him. HE won't pick up HIS phone. Honestly, who would at two-thirty in the morning? So then I call JT. JT answers. JT and I talk for some time. We've arrived at the apartment and I'm standing outside talking to JT. By the time I hang up and go back inside, Kylen is puking. The show is over, but she's decided it's time to pass out and pass out she does....HARD. A nuclear bomb could have detonated beside her head and this girl would not have moved and inch. Jimmie and Ben come in...someone went back to the frat house to rescue them. So Jimmie, Ben, Emily, and Ali and I decide to keep drinking. Two beers later Ben is passed out on the floor and we draw on his back.....yes, we're viscious maniacal bitches, but we love it. For some reason, we start thinking about the Charlie Daniels song "Devil went Down to Georgia" and trying to figure out what the lyrics are....totally drunk. We cannot think of two verses to string together properly....it's bad. We decide we are very drunk and should probably get some sleep. Time? 4:00 AM.

So the next morning we wake up to hear Ben bitching about his back....ha ha ha....don't ever pass out around us again.....and then we all leave. Still thinking about the sugar plum thoughts that was Maze 2005.

Granted, Maze last year was much better than this year. There were more people last year and it just seemed like a better maze had been set up than was this year, but it was still a good party and definately an interesting weekend. Besides, who can say that they trade a home made t-shirt for one that doesn't even belong to the person they trade with? And who else can say they met someone who's six foot nine?

A good weekend is full of friends.....a great weekend is filled with stories that you can't tell your parents!