It was March 17, 1762 in New York City. I celebrated the very first St. Patrick's Day as Irish Soldiers paraded through the street honoring Saint Patrick, the patron Saint of Ireland. We all celebrated with music, dancing and lots of beers to remind ourselves of our history and religion!Éirinn go Brách!
Alright alright... you caught me. I wasn't there. But with the way I celebrate St. Patricks Day, I might as well have started the holiday myself. I mean really, who doesn't love a holiday where you can get inexcusably drunk and call it cultural? And besides, this is the ONE time of year I choose to be proud of the ridiculous four-leaf clover tattoo my irresponsible parents let me get when I was 16. Thanks a lot mom and dad.
I'm an Irish-Italian catholic. So whether it's wine, the blood of Christ, or an Irish car bomb, you can guarantee I will be drinking it. This year is especially exciting because I finally get to participate legally! Of course, given my back ground, i've always used the term "legally" very very loosely.
St. Patrick's Day always falls on finals week. I don't know if this is a blessing or a curse. A curse because it is begging you to be hungover through your finals (provided you're not lucky and didn't get your finals over with beforehand) and a blessing because for the love of God if I write one more paper or solve one more quartile-deviation I might drive a nail into my foot. St. Patrick's Day is the perfect outlet for your finals frustrations, and by the end of three months of hard work and endless shitty weather, it is always much needed. So here I am, on the eve of my winter quarter freedom, embarking on my first legal St. Patrick's Day. One more pesky math final and then please, someone pour me a Guinness and let's cheers to St. Patrick!
I will be back later in the week to tell stories of my first legal St. Patty's, so stay tuned! But you know what they say... when Irish eyes are smiling, they are usually up to something!
"If I had my own world, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what it is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?" Alice's Adevntures in Wonderland
I was five years old, plopped right in front of my pink TV/VCR combo watching Disney's Alice in Wonderland with my mom.
This bond between Alice and I is certainly one I've cherished for a long time. I've read the books and seen the movie so many times I feel like I was the one that got the privilege of falling down that rabbit hole. So, obviously you can imagine my excitement when hearing Disney was doing a new version of Alice.
History of Alice
"Well, I never heard it before, but it sounds uncommon nonsense."
The original story, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, was written in 1865 by Lewis Carrol, the pseudonym for english writter Charles Dodgson. Filed under the category of "literary nonsense" the story of Alice is a whimsical tale that takes you through a fantasy world. Coined as the originator of the fantasy genre, Carrol carries readers through a world excruciatingly different from the world in which we live.
The majestic and nonsensical characters were brought to life in 1951 in the Walt Disney adaptation. The Disney Movie titled Alice in Wonderland was based off of the original book and the sequels Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There.
The "remake"
This year, Disney released a new version of Alice in Wonderland. Directed by Tim Burton, this version was half animated and half real-life. The cast was stacked with Hollywood bigshots, Johnny Depp as the Madhatter, Helena Boham Carter as the Red Queen and Anne Hathaway as the White Queen. New to the scene, Mia Wasikowska brought 19-year-old Alice back to wonderland.
I obviously saw the movie at midnight the night before its release. I went with my friend Kathy, who without doubt is a bigger Alice fan than I am. She knows everything about the history and has been waiting for the release of this movie for years. She came down to UC to go see the movie at the AMC theatre in Newport with my roommate and I. We had a blast. I was especially happy because the kid seated next to me was clearly tripping on something. Good for him, I bet Lewis Carroll would be proud. We didn't get to see the movie in 3D but I wasn't concerned, that makes me nauseous anyway.
I will spare you my recount of the movie, but as a huge fan of all that is Alice, there is something i'd like to make clear... This is not a REMAKE. It is Alice later in life, in the books like Through the Looking Glass and the others made after Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. So for those of you whining that it is nothing like the original, it isn't supposed to be.
With that said, I obviously loved the movie. The March Hare is fantastic in this movie, so funny. I was disappointed in the cheshire cat and unfortunately very disappointed in Mr. Depp. The hatter should have had so much more to him and so much more time on screen. I was really impressed with the Red Queen, Helena Boham Carter did an excellent job.
I got some reviews from my friends on facebook and they went as follows...
Brian: I enjoyed it very much. It was worth paying an ass load of money for. Tweedle Dee and Deedle Dum were by far my favorites.
Sommer: Matt lucas is the MAN
Andy: I was unimpressed. The 3D was unnecessary and Johnny Depp was not that great. I didn't even recognize Anne Hathaway....the whole thing was just off to me.
Emily Wandland 1. the beginning was a little choppy 2. it picked up, and i liked it! 3. the 3-d glasses made the colors a little less brilliant at times... like wearing shades inside 4. my favorite part was sitting next to andy while he squealed like a child when johnny depp was on screen
Andy (again): #3 on Emily's list is spot on. And I'm upset she put 4 on there.
Jon: I thought it was kinda weird. I didnt know what to expect because i dont remember the first one. I thought it was good but its not my favorite and i would definitely like to see it in 3D while Fucked up.
Derrick: I Give Alice a C. The story line lacked some areas of probability..Girls don't slay dragons! Haha but I did like the bright colors and it needed more 3D. I did like all the funky animals and of course Johnny Depp is that shit!
Kathy: Alice in Wonderland is beautiful. My life will forever be different. I'd like to thank everyone who made this possible. It's Alice in Wonderland, but at the same time, it isn't. It was perfect. Just perfect.
I told you Kathy was obsessed. So there you have it. This movie is something you definitely have to experience for yourself. Hopefully not as stoned as the kid next to me was. I will leave you now with my favorite clip from the original...
So, here it comes... have you been there? What did you think of Alice??
It's my senior year of college, and I attend the University of Cincinnati, home of the Bearcats, back to back Big East football champions.
I've seen this video about 267 times and it still gives me chills
In the state of Ohio, college football has always been defined by the Ohio State University, or as I fondly refer to them, the Overrated State University. The 2009 football season was different. College football in Ohio is now Bearcat football. We remained ranked above OSU for the better part of our season and to top it off, almost made it to a national title game. If only Texas could choke how OSU can... Anyway, we traveled to New Orleans to play the University of Florida Gators in the Sugar Bowl. Now, as all of you know, we lost. The Big East is not stacked like the SEC, and Florida was to say the least a tough competitor.
While I may talk a lot of mess about Ohio State, I still respect them. However, I am from Florida, and even I know NOTHING good ever came out of Gainsville. That city's idea of a seven course dinner is a six-pack and a possum. There is nothing but rednecks and football in Gainsville, so naturally, they are going to have a good football team. Even if there class level is something close to that of a trailer park luncheon. I was raised to hate the Gators. Literally. They have the WORST fans in the history of college football, hands down. So when they went up in flames against Alabama, I was overjoyed, especially since it was the day UC beat Pitt, giving us our second Big East title in a row. That day also gave me an image that I will appreciate for the rest of my life...
Someone call the Wahmbulence.
So now that we can understand how much I really truly hate the Gators, you can understand my excitement upon learning that the Bearcats were given the opportunity to play them in the Sugar Bowl. I was on a date and I literally released my dates hand to do a victory dance. Classy I know. But to add to my excitement was the very fact that the Sugar Bowl was played in the city that could make every college student's dreams come true, New Orleans, Louisiana. Within hours of our bowl announcement, the planning of our New Orleans trip began.
We booked our hotel, the Midtown Hotel, for three nights. We would arrive on December 30th and leave January 2nd. Plenty of playtime for four freshly-turned 21 year-olds and one very eager girl with a fake i.d. The trip included my roommate, Jon, two of my best girl friends, Brittany and Kayleigh, and our friend Kyle. This trip would be our holy grail, an experience of a lifetime and it was nothing short of that.
Day One... On the road and ready for Hurricanes (hopefully not named Katrina...)
We woke up at about 4am, our anticipated departure time being 5 a.m. This time got pushed back as one of our travelers works at a strip club (she just works at the front desk, no, I'm not kidding -- I already told you, my life is weird) and she didn't even get off of work (which was an hour away) until about 4:30am. Everyone in our group was annoyed, except me. She was my friend, who cares if she's late. Anyway, she arrived a little before 6 a.m., and as she got out of her car, followed by her dog who proceeded to run down the main road in front of my apartment. So there we are, in the wee hours of the morning chasing a dog around when all we want to do is get in the car an leave. This was the theme of our trip, chaos. So we catch Fido, hop in the car and we're on our way.
Most of the trip was pretty boring... I mean honestly, nothing exciting happens on a drive through Kentucky. Tennessee was kind of cool because I had never seen Nashville before, so that was neat. Alabama... now that was entertaining. By the time Alabama came around, we were all hungry. But of course, we couldn't get hungry on a convenient stretch of the highway. There was literally a 45 minute span where we drove and saw nothing. Finally we sucummed to our fate of eating crappy gas station food. Luckily, after driving 3 miles off of the highway, we found a gas station that had a Subway in it. Now last I checked, Subway's slogan is "Eat Fresh". That foundation of company excellence was not extended to this particular Subway in Stuckey's Express Mart in Boligee, Alabama. This decrepit and sad excuse for anything that should produce food was complete with all things pickled (pigs feet, eggs etc.) and also featured a wide variety of souvenirs, including Mexican themed ponchos (never mind the fact that the boarder of Mexico was hundreds of miles away) and the classic "Someone went to Boligee and all I got was this stupid hat" hat. If only Gainsville could be this classy. Needless to say our Subway sandwiches were nowhere near fresh and we flew out of that town as fast as possible.
Mississippi wasn't exciting, and regrettably we did not take advantage of the fact that in Mississippi you can have open containers. Oh well.
We arrived in Louisiana somewhere around five and as we finished up the end of our 12 hour journey, insanity set in. I either needed a beer or to be tranquilized. You start to get slap-happy after you have been in the car for that long and that resulted in a fist-pumping good time. We convinced Kyle, my friend that happened to be driving to give us an instructional on how to fist-pump...
Yes, he did just say "IF WE CRASH FIST PUMPING THAT'S HOW WE DIE!"
Thanks to modern technology, we were all checking our Facebooks via our cell phones. Kayleigh took out her blackberry to check out all the New Orleans related status updates, only to come across one from her friend Jason that said "... oh Midtown Hotel, you five star mother f*cker you. Only been here for five minutes and we had to change rooms twice because of puke stains on the bed. Oh well, lets drink!" . Yeah, that is our hotel. Great...
We arrive at the midtown and it is literally in one of the worst parts of New Orleans, however it was only $60 a night and the parking was free. Hepititis and shankings free with a two night stay as well. Luckily the girls and I checked into our room and it wasn't bad at all, sure it wasn't the Ritz but there was no puke in sight and everything worked so I was happy. The boys had a different fate. In their first room, their key didn't work. Their second room had puke on the bed. But the third time was a charm and they got settled in. We all got ready fast and headed on down Tulane street in search of beer. We came across a mini-mart that looked like a set from Boys N The Hood. Our shopping list:
2 Cases of Bud Light
vodka
powerade
captain
big shot cola
two cans of chef boyardee.
First class all the way. We get back to the hotel and start pregaming with our winnings from the mini-mart. We get a little tipsy and head off to diner at the BK lounge (Burger King) adjacent to our fancy hotel. I was the only one drunk at this point, and my asshole friends left me alone at the counter while I waited for my food. I spent most of my time talking to LaQuisha, the girl taking our order. She was asking me all kinds of questions about Ohio, what farms are like etc. Nothing I love more than ignorance. Anyway the next bit of entertainment came out of me when a fellow tourist came up to me while I was waiting for my food. The conversation went like this:
Tourist with fannypack: Hey, can you tell me how to get to the superdome?
Me: Oh yeah, we passed it coming in.
Tourist: Okay well how do I get there
Me: You know, it's really big, silver, and it is kind of shaped like a dome.
Tourist: Oh, okay. Well which highway is it off of?
Me: The one the runs directly in front of it.
I'm obviously super helpful. This was the theme of many jokes throughout the trip that aimed to make me look like an ass.
After eating my crown-shaped nuggets, we hoped in the Lexus and headed back to the Midtown for some more pregaming. Then it was time to catch a cab. We headed down to the lobby and waited... for about an hour. We roamed around the hotel for a while taking pictures of random things doing random poses and what not. That looked a little like this...
I was clearly the best cheerleader on the squad in high school
So finally our cab arrives and we head down the the world famous Bourbon Street. All I can say about Bourbon Street is that the rumors are true. Booze everywhere, cops on horseback, a constant pool of people and the stench of tomorrow's hangover lingering in the air. It was beautiful. I don't remember much but i'll tell you what I do remember. The hurricanes were delicious, and the little warning label stating that each one contained 151 was far too small to be acknowledged. Running into someone you used to date on Bourbon Street doesn't end well. Following around anyone that has orange and blue on and loudly stating "Sir, sir! You have shit all over your shirt!" will undoubtably lead to you getting into a fight. Going into a bar that is cowboy themed on Bourbon is far better, and at the very same time far worse, than going to one anywhere else in the world. Especially since they charge you $15 to ride the bull. Not fair. Here are some more pictures from day one;
Just a sober stroll down Bourbon
Group on Bourbon
(from left to right, kyle, kayleigh, me, brittany and jon)
This is a funny story...
We took this photo in the middle of Bourbon, and
just as it was snapped we started high fiving and yelling and
then, four frat guys from UF gave us the quote of the weekend
"Man, why don't you act like you've been here."
No, no I will not.
Bourbon Cowboy. Such a special place.
Yes, there is video footage...
I know, I missed my calling as a singer.
But my favorite part of that night is what happened the next morning....
Day Two... hangovers, fried gator, the mississippi, new years and angry sorority girls.
The next morning, I wake up with last night's eye make-up all over my face. I quickly hopped out of bed, eager to get day two started and to reminisce on the previous night's debauchery. The second my feet hit the ground, I realize that I feel similar to how one must feel after getting into a fight with an UFC fighter who just realized someone stole their affliction t-shirt. Dead to the world. The other girls wake up and we get dressed. About every five minutes I get the overwhelming feeling that my hurricane is about to come back up for round two. Being freshly 21, I know what a hangover feels like. This wasn't a hangover, this was God's direct punishment for my sins. I had to battle through the mess I had caused because it was New Years Eve. No way was I missing out on a beat in NoLa.
We finish getting ready and head up to the boys room. Their room smelled like I felt... like death. Everyone but me decides it's time to eat some cajun food. That's the irony about New Orleans, it makes you incoherently hungover and then tempts you with all kinds of delicious foods that contain every spice known to man. That's just mean. The horrible part though is that we had no idea where to find good food, so we trekked all around the french quarter trying to find somewhere to eat. Another activity that is not conducive to healing a hang over. The lighter side of this is the re-cap of the previous evening. I got the clear title of the most hungover and asked some ridiculous questions like:
Me: I'm impressed I didn't make-out with anyone last night.
Others: You did, and it only took you about 15 minutes to find your ex.
Me: Fail
Me: Why are my flats ruined?
Others: Because you jumped in a pile of hurricane you spilled.
Me: Fail
Brittany: I am glad I stuck with beer. I hate 151.
Me: Who drank 151?
Others: Um, it was in the hurricanes.
Me: Oh, no wonder i'm so hungover.
Me: I wish we would have gone into bars instead of staying on the street.
Others: Uh, Cassi, we were in like six different bars
You get the point. After about an hour of walking we finally stop in a convenience store on canal street to pick up some waters/pops to re-hydrate. Hungover me is really partial to excedrine migraine and Fiji bottled water. So that was like a $9 pitstop. Oh well. I just didn't want to feel like death anymore. We gave up on our search for cheap food and decided to have our nice meal for the weekend mid-hangover. We headed down to Mulates, the suggested restaurant from our cabby the night before. Mulate's is known to the locals as the original cajun restaurant so we were all excited to eat there. Minus me, I just wanted to puke and get on with my life, sans hangover. We got a table and were greeted by out waiter, Corey. Corey, was as stoned as the day is long. This led to an interesting Q and A between him and Kyle...
Kyle: How much is a mimosa?
Corey: uhhhhh, a what?
Kyle: A mimosa.
Corey: I don't know, isn't it like, on the menu?
Mind you, Mulate's does not sell mimosas. Despite Corey and his lack of enthusiasm for our presence, our meals were delicious. We got an appetizer of fried gator (yes, it does taste like chicken) if you know me at all you know it is impressive that I ate any, let alone while hungover. We all got Po Boys, the classic sandwich on the bayou, they were awesome, and bonus, my hangover disappeared and I was ready to go.
Fried Gator... nom nom nom
After Mulates we spent the day along the Mississippi (note : every time I type that I sing the song we learned in grade school, no, I have no idea how I have such a high GPA) at the river walk mall. That was cool because the malls here don't serve beer, and they do in New Orleans. I was unaware up until this moment that I could combine shopping and drinking, what an excellent combination.
Aw, aren't we cute sober?
We headed back to the hotel, after making a pit stop for beers. The boys went and took a nap (a common theme, boys just can't hang like the girls) while Brittany, Kayleigh and I sat on the balcony, blared Biggie Smalls, drank, and made friends with our new neighbors, frat boys from UF (they were actually nice). We started getting ready and geared up for all that is New Years Eve in New Orleans. We were dressed and ready, and the boys finally joined us are 7 p.m.
We hopped in the cab and were on our way to NYE on Bourbon. We met up with some of our friends down there and just started drinking. Unlike the night before, we steered clear of bars, as the covers were ridiculously high. Instead we focused our efforts on beads. I won't say who did and didn't flash, but it's New Orleans, that's what you're supposed to do there. I said I would all weekend and never ended up flashing anyone. Comforting, because I know no one is running around with a picture of my tots on their Blackberry, but upsetting because I feel like I missed out on something.
Luckily, we knew someone with a hotel room, complete with balcony, right on Bourbon. So we hung out up there for a while. We kept saying what a shit hole it was as a defense mechanism. This hotel was gorgeous and if it was possible made our hotel look even crappier than it did to begin with. There were all sorts of fabulous and classy parties going on but that didn't stop us from being ourselves...
This is why we can't go anywhere nice...
Does this picture look firmiliar?
five-star fist pump
We partied at the Royal Sonesta Hotel for a couple hours. Mostly, we taunted people from the balcony. Afterwards we headed downstairs as it was getting close to midnight.
As soon as we left the hotel, we headed down to the north end of Bourbon street. Midnight came with drinks and lots of kissing. At about 1 a.m. we headed back down to Canal Street to catch a cab. Along the way, Kyle kept getting into arguments with Florida fans, and then becoming their friends (see below photo) afterwards. This activity ended up with him getting lost from the group. No one could get a hold of him so we just left. A lot of his frat brothers were in New Orleans so we knew he would find someone to stay with. Catching a cab home was a challenge but we managed. Unfortunately for Kyle, catching a cab would have been the least of his worries had he come with us.
Kyle ran into his ex and a bunch of her sorority sisters apparently right after we left. One of the girls kept bitching at him, accusing him of cheating on the aforementioned ex. Kyle did nothing of the sort and was getting really mad. In his words "this ugly girl was really annoying me, so I called her ugly and ashed in her beer." In response, the girl took a full hurricane and chucked it at him, burning his eyes and staining his shirt.
Those of us not recieving a hurricane shower headed back to the hotel and passed out. Happy 2010!
The cops in this town mean business.
Kyle and one of his new 'friends'
Cheers to 2010!
what a mess
look at all those beads
Day Three... a different kind of hurricane relief, tailgating, tickets and grumpy old men
Our last day in New Orleans luckily didn't start in a fog for me. I wasn't too hungover and I was ready to get game day started. The girls and I got ready and went to check on Jon and Kyle. Or should I say Jon... Kyle never came back. I was the only one concerned, but whatever. We were all sure he'd pop up eventually. Jon got dressed and we all headed off in search of pancakes. We used Jon's iPhone to search for local pancake houses, but that lead us deep in to the ghetto to "Betty's Pancakes" which was conveniently closed and had bars over the windows. Ihop it was. We headed down to the Canal Street Ihop and had an amazing breakfast. We did a little shopping on Canal hoping Kyle would call and we could take him back with us. We stumbled upon this store called the Hippie Gypsy. They had a "karma jar" where you could put money in return for good karma. I put four quarters in there hoping for a win. We all know how that went. We were all wearing our UC apparel and went into a Foot Locker to look around. While checking out, the cashiers were telling us how excited they were that the Bearcats had an opportunity to play in the sugar bowl. They were in the middle of congratulating our amazing undefeated season when some 50 year-old asshole in orange butted in.
Orange Ass Hat: They don't deserve to be here
Us: Excuse me?
Orange Ass Hat: Ya'll don't stand no chance
Us: Sir, are you from Gainsville?
Orange Ass Hat: Yeah, how could you tell?
Us: Your complete inability to form a coherent sentence.
See what I mean? Worst fans in the world. Mind you while our season wasn't as strong as Florida's, we still remained undefeated. While Tebow was wiping away his tears and the shame of a loss against Alabama, the Bearcats were fresh off of an amazing comeback in the Pitt game. It may be fair to say that our team isn't as strong as some of college football's heavyweights but we deserved to be at that game. To say anything else is completely disrespectful to the senior boys who not only carried us through two amazing seasons, but had to carry the burden of Brian Kelly ABANDONING them weeks before their first major bowl game.
Sorry, I got off track. After the moronic battle with that guy we got in the car and decided to do something productive. We headed down to the Ninth Ward, the area of New Orleans effected the most by Hurricane Katrina. It was amazing that after almost 5 years, the damage o Katrina is still very much present in New Orleans.
sign leading in to the ninth ward
The X' on the doors notified rescue workers of the date
the house was originally searched, number of people
living there and how bad the damage was.
All of the yards were extremely overgrown.
After visiting the Lower Ninth Ward and paying our respects to the survivors of the Hurricane, we headed back into the city. We picked up beers for tailgating and got ready for the game. Kyle had finally called and was going to get food. Us girls were ready to tailgate but of course the boys wanted to take a nap. We got ready and Jon drove us to the stadium. On the way we picked up Kyle, who was still wearing his New Years Eve gear. We got out of the car and roamed around the super dome for a while, checking out the pre-game events and tailgates. We went and picked up our swag bags and headed off down the road in search of a more entertaining tailgate. Our goal was to find Alumni, because no one knows how to party like them. We found a parking lot full of them about a quarter-mile from the stadium and hung out with them. We were talking to some hot UC grad named Brian when a guy in full Allstate Sugar Bowl Apparel walks up to our group. The man asks us if we have tickets and everyone replies yes. He then says this gem...
Allstate Guy: Man, I need to get rid of these tickets, do you know anyone who needs them?
Everyone: No.
Me (smarter than everyone else): Well wait, what section are they in?
Allstate Guy: I'm not sure, the Fox News section, wherever that is.
Me (knowing that is obviously better than the nosebleeds we had): Oh, can I see?
The man pulls the tickets out of an envelope. I looked down and said out loud, "Holy Shit!". The tickets were right on the freaking sideline. My big green eyes and I convinced Mr. Allstate to trade us our tickets for his. He was reluctant but the goal was to fill the stadium and he could still give our shitty tickets away. Let me show you on the seating chart the upgrade I just made:
The second row of blue directly behind the end zone was our
original seciton, and we were moved to the red on the sidelines
As a bonus, we got five tickets even though we only traded in three after I explained to the man that part of our group was naping. The boys were able to sell their tickets for $40 each, giving us an extra $80 in gas money for our ride home. Perfect.
We headed back to the stadium to meet the guys. We got in line, super excited to go to the game. Our seats were amazing, they were right behind the football players, and adjacent to Nick Lachey. Yes, the guy from 98 degrees. I have at least 6 creepy pictures to prove it. Unfortunately we were seated around seven of the dumbest people I have ever encountered.
Man Number One aka Florida Fatty. He was seated two rows ahead of us and had a mouth that would make a sailor blush. He was wearing a visor and his head had more rolls on it than a danish platter at an obesity seminar. He did things like call Brittany fat (she weighs all of 115 pounds and is about 5'5), try to fight Kyle (who was easily 30 years younger than him) and demolish a hot dog in a way that would make Takeru Kobayash look bad.
Man Number Two aka SEC coattailer. This dude sat right in front of me. He was from LSU, dressed head to toe in Tiger gear. His reasoning for being at the game was to root for the SEC. Excuse me sir, but the SEC isn't in this bowl game nor is LSU. He never cheered for the Gator's, but every time there was an SEC chant this guy would hop out of his seat so fast your head would spin. Look around jackass, your school isn't in a major BCS game, step off.
Man Number Three aka Florida Geezer. Okay, this guy was dressed like a nerd and was irritating but I sort of felt bad for him. I mean he was there alone and had to listen to all of us swear all night. He was still an ass though.
Men Numbers Four - Seven. These morons were Florida Alumni. They were some of the most disrespectful people I have ever encountered. Minus the wanna-be Rico Suave that kept trying to hit on me, he was just plain pathetic. Never in my life would I expect a grown man to get in a small girls face and push her to tears. I am only 21, I am female, and I am not big at all. This guy could have seriously hurt me, but he still felt it necessary to jump up and down on my chair and get in my face in an argument (yet again) about how UC didn't deserve to be there. Wake up idiots, WE ARE IN THE SAME BOWL GAME!
This didn't get any better. The boys put up a fight but could withstand Te-Blow or the rest of Florida's stacked senior class. At the end of the day though, I am still so proud to be a Bearcat. We had one hell of a season and deserved every but of recognition we recieved. The game was a blast and our seats were amazing. The trip overall is one I will never forget, and I am so thankful that my Bearcats brought me to the Bayou for the best three days in the history of college football. For this girl anyway!
The girls tailgating.
(Not Pictured: Sleeping Beauty One and Sleeping Beauty Two aka Jon and Kyle)
See what I mean about Florida Fans?
Our last group shot at the game. GO BEARCATS!
this is how baller our seats were
Welcome to Mardy Gras :)
So, to wrap it all up, have you been there? My trip to New Orleans was filled with awesome-ness and I want to hear stories of your travels!
I was in the seventh grade, sitting in homeroom on valentines day. I had more carnations on my desk than anyone else in the seventh grade. Except for like one girl, but she gave out blowjobs already, so by default she got more than me. Life's not fair when you're thirteen. Anyway, three of them were from the boy who turned out to be my first love, but in the seventh grade, our relationship has barely past him chasing me around the monkey bars. He chased after me all year, and finally on valentines day, he caught my attention.
Mike had a girlfriend. Which in the seventh grade pretty much obligated you to nightly phone calls, dancing at socials and carnations on valentines day. But Mike didn't get his girlfriend any carnations. I walked past her on the way to homeroom, and I remember seeing her crying, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. But the pile of red and pink stacked on my deck put an abrupt hault to my curiosity. On my desk was a big teddy bear with a red bow tie and top hat. Around the bear's neck was a silver heart shaped necklace, and laying next to the bear was a giant chocolate rose. In the desk behind mine, there sat Mike, holding a bright pink card. Since my face already matched the color of my newest stuffed animal's top hat, I sulked over to my desk and sat down. Mike got down on one knee and handed me my card, the entire class and my teacher laughed and oooohed and ahhhhed. Inside the card he wrote "you're the girl of my dreams, happy valintines day" (yes, he spelled valentines incorrectly). Then the teacher passed out the carnations, of which I recieved 13. Blow-job girl got 15, for anyone who was interested. Three of those were from Mike as well. Anyway, this all sounds cute right? Every 13 year-old girl's dream right? Well, it wasn't far along into first period when I was informed that aside from the fact that Mike bought someone who wasn't his girlfriend valentines gifts, he neglected to buy her anything. Not one heart shaped candy, not a single carnation. To add insult to injury, his girlfriend and I had our very last period of the day together, and when we were sent to our lockers to pick up our stuff before getting on the bus, I returned to the classroom (of course I sat right next to her) with an arm full of presents from her boyfriend. I looked at her, and as she was holding back her seventh-grade tears she simply said "it's okay, I was going to break up with him anyway".
So I made that girl's Valentine's Day terrible, so I decided to look into the horrible memories of Valentines Days past and this is what I got....
I joined "The Experience Project" another social networking site and here they share there bad Valentines Day memories. My favorite is the BK Lounge story.
I was drunk, in a movie theater, at four in the afternoon. Only one man could make that happen... Tucker Max.
For those of you who live under the pop culture rock, Tucker Max is the author of the New York Times best seller, I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell. He is 34 years old, and a self proclaimed ass hole. Who better to explain it than the man himself...
"I get excessively drunk at inappropriate times, disregard social norms, indulge every whim, ignore the consequences of my actions, mock idiots and posers, sleep with more women than is safe or reasonable, and just generally act like a raging dickhead."
Tucker is not only an icon for college guys everywhere, as he tells stories of general male dubachery (sex, alcohol, etc.), but he's undoubtably smarter than the average asshole. He completed his undergrad in three years and graduated with honors, then topped his college career off with a law degree from Duke. Yes, that Duke.
I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell has spent the last four years on the NY Times best seller list, currently sitting at the number six spot. His second book, Asshole's Finish First, is set to come out in the fall of 2010. (click here for amazon.com and buy the books) He also started the message board rudius media.
But the thing that has defined my Tucker Max experience, is his movie, named and created after his first book, I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell. Tucker wrote the movie with Nils Parker, the man who the character Dan is based off of. The movie stars Matt Czuchry (Tucker), Jesse Bradford (Drew) and Geoff Stults (Dan). The characters Drew and Dan are both based off of Tucker's friends, who he references in the book. The movie, well, as a movie, it was okay, the production was sub par, but it was still a hilarious movie. I was expecting a lot out of this movie, Tucker translates his stories so well on paper, and I was looking for big things out of his movie. The movie is no doubt funny, but I think in order to appreciate all that is Tucker Max you have to read his book and read his blog.
My high hopes and I wanted to make sure we got to see the movie as early as possible. Tucker and company did something really cool with the movie premieres, they set out on a tour and visited college towns all over the country the month leading up to the movies release date. My friends and I headed up to The Over-rated State University in Columbus, Ohio to check out the movie. The movie may not have been as epic as expected but the experience definitely was.
This is the movie's official trailer.
We arrived in columbus around 3:30pm, the movie didn't start until 7pm, so what better is there to do to honor Tucker and his first movie then get shit-housed? We went to the bar, which was so conveniently located in the movie theater lobby (got to love college campuses) and wouldn't you know it? The drafts were only $2! God was sending me a message saying, "Cassi, get drunk, and do it for Tucker." I complied. The bartender was buying us beers, when this young business man, Malik, who was at the bar with his office, came over and said the two dirtiest words in the english language "jaeger bombs". His office bought us a round... and then another. Malik started to get creepy after a photoshoot (see below), and out of the corner of my blurry yet observant eyes I saw a line forming in the theater lobby. I said goodbye to Malik, the bar tender and all the other office nerds in the bar and my friends and I stumbled our way into the line. I walk in the theater and there he was, Tucker Max standing right in front of me. He was so modest (as modest as Tucker Max can be), it was amazing. He really appreciates where he is and that is the coolest thing to see in someone as successful as he is. Anyway, before the movie got started Tucker wanted to hear some of the audiences stories, on his blogs, he claimed it to be "one of my favorite pre-shows so far", for being on premiere 18 out of 31, not to shabby. Anyway, the first stories belonged to one of my best friends, 'Jackie'... in the words of Tucker Max (from his blog on ihopetheyservebeerinhell.com) this is how her story came out:
-This girl starts telling her story, and she is clearly waster and during her story she says she hooked up with a dude in sweat pants:
Tucker: So you hook up with guys who wear swear pants out to bars?
Girl (aka Jackie): No, I dated him for a while.
Tucker: Oh, even better, you date those guys!
Nils: And then he got tenure...
Tucker: Right, then he went to a club in them and shot himself in the lef and the punchline is it was Plaxico Burress
[She keeps rambling pointlessly]
Guy in audience: NEXT!
Tucker: Seriously. Just because the mic is big and black it doesn't mean you have to hold it in your hand this long.
[Girl keeps rambling]
Tucker: I feel like she's just randomly putting shit together. These aren't sentences or thoughts.
Nils: You're like a giant refrigerator poetry magnet. You're just rearranging words.
Tucker: This is like drunken slut Mad Libs.
Girl: Alright, i'll hand the mic back to little dick over here.
Most girls would be embarassed to call Jackie their best friend, but, I am not most girls. I was laughing harder than anyone else in the audience. We listened to a few more stories and then they played the movie. I was excited, but that quickly faded, I mean, have you ever tried to watch a movie while you're drunk? It's like trying to take a nap on adderall, or trying to explain the fundementals of abstinence to a group of horny teenagers, you're never going to accomplish anything. The movie ended, and Tucker opened the floor to questions, and some how, I got the mic first. There it was, my chance to ask Tucker Max, the man, a question. I could have asked him anything, but my drunk self went with "So, Tucker, on a scale of one to ten how hard is it to fuck a midget?" Really, Cassi? Your hero of the written word is standing in front of you and THAT is what you choose to say? Life re-evaluation ensued. I was too drunk to even pay attention to his response. Anyway, got to meet him, take pictures, all that. He signed my book too.
Because I had followed the movie premieres so closely, I knew that the minute we stepped out of the theater, Bill Dawes, a comedian and extra in the movie, would be waiting with a camera to film our reactions. My friends and I did a series of drunken commentary but mine was the only one chosen. I'm right at the end of this following video, following the creepy father/daughter duo...
Yeah, that's me, right around 2:33 rambling like the wrong end of an AA meeting
It was a great experience, even if the movie isn't going to be winning any academy awards, it wins an award with me. I'll never forget the day I got to meet Tucker Max, even if I can't remember it.
Here are some pictures, the first are from Tucker's Flickr account, the others are from the pregame, yes, Malik makes a guest appearance.
Oh hey, that's me, asking the worst question possible.
Tucker and Me The IHTSBIH tour bus
The men of the office.
That's Malik. And yes, I am impersonating Tucker. Epic.
Wait wait wait... this blog isn't about me (rejoice). It's about my friends, and all of their inappropriately-hilarious hook up stories, because lets face it, sometimes grace flies out the window when hormones get involved...
Guys really don't have "feelings"... Mark's Story
"I was seeing this girl for a while, and one night we went out for dinner and drinks. We were drinking a lot and talking, progressively getting closer to one another. In true gentleman form, I knew I had to get this girl back to my place. I had just bought the new trojan extended pleasure condoms and they were ready and waiting for us on my night stand. We started going at it, so instead of just grabbing for a condom, I thought i'd be sexy and rip off the condom from the strip with my teeth. I was so drunk that my aim was off and my teeth ripped right through the middle of the condom, splashing the numbing agent all over my face. Within seconds of this the entire lower half of my face was completely numb. Instead of any kind of extended pleasure, all my girl got was drool... all over her."
'PWNED!' a story of revenge... Anna's Story
"I was really into this guy and we talked spring quarter of school and well you know... fucked. So, I was under the impression we would continure through summer and when we got back to school in the fall. Well he decided he didn't want to talk to me anymore toward the end of the summer, it was whatever. Like any girl with half of a brain, I knew he would call me once he was moved back to school. A week after school he (shall we call him Danky?) calls:
Danky: "Hey can you get me beer?"
Me: "Um, I guess."
He picks me up in his obnoxious truck and I use my fake to buy him beer. After I get dropped back off at the party I was at:
Danky: "Your tits looked nice."
Me: "I'm wearing a polo? Whatever."
Danky: "I still noticed, maybe you should come over and play beer pong later."
CALLED IT. So, I go over, we mess around me knowing it was "that time of the month". I borrowed sweatpants and after I returned home I realized I had left him a gift behind... my tampon had come out in his sweatpants.
Next day:
(Text from Danky): Ewwww! THIS IS FUCKING DISGUSTING WTF! GUESS WHAT I FOUND!
My reply? Simply, "PWNED". The end."
This is one of my best friends, and no, this story does not embarass her to tell at all. If you ever met the real "Danky" you would understand why he deserved that. He is such a tool he makes the kids on "Jersey Shore" look like they have class.
On to the next...
Case of the Missing Coed... Kathy's Story
"I was a freshman in college and on my first day of spring quarter, as I sat patiently in my first class, English 102. I remember this class specifically as there was a kid in my class that wrote a research paper on the "Smoking Band"... not to be confused with the "Smoking Ban". What an idiot. Commuter college really produces intelligence. Anyway, I was just sitting there texting when this really attractive older-looking scruffy-faced guy walked in. We hit it off and talked a lot in the first week of classes, and he asked for my number. He was going to take me on a date and since I had dated the same guy for a year, my first date skills were a little rusty, so I headed over to my best friends house for some advice and encouragement before heading off on my date. This was around 7pm. Now the story splits into two right about now... my version, and everyone who cares about me's version. I'll start with mine.
My version: I head off from best friends and to this guys dorm. We get in his car and we're off to see Disturbia, the thriller with Shia LeBouf. Obviously, I turn my phone on silent. We see the movie and decide we don't want the night to be over so we head off to Steak and Shake. I don't want any judgement, it was the only place open still. Anyway, we were having a great time, and headed back to his dorm. We kissed a couple times but we kept it pretty PG before we fell asleep at about 5am. Now i'm going to tell the other half of the story...
Everyone else: Well, I can only assume that my parents, brother and best friends went along with their lives as usual... until about 3pm the next day, when I am still no where to be found. My best friend gets a phone call from my parents, after I hadn't been returning her text messages all morning. Because of the un-returned texts, the phone call alarmed her when my parents asked her where I was, as I never came back from my date. The next three hours were spent this way: Best friend calls everyone I know to see if I had talked to them. I hadn't. Parents call brother (who lives two hours away from us) to see if I had talked to him. I hadn't. I between they all spent their time frantically calling my cell phone, and eventually calling university police around 6pm.
This is where we'll switch it back to me. I wake up around 5pm, in a haze. I stand up and greet my date with a kiss as a reach for my phone. In this moment two things happen. I unlock my phone, seeing I have 34 missed calls, a statement I make out loud in shock, just as there is a knock at the door. It was a police officer, and my two best friends. None of whom looked very happy. Remember when I said I had turned my phone on silent before the movie? Well, I never turned it off of silent. Oops. Given the fact that I was 18, I scared everyone just a little when it had been almost 24 hours since anyone had heard from me, and I was off on a date with a guy they all barely knew. It was so bad, my brother was actually on his way home, from college, two hours away. Oh well. At least now I know i'm loved."
This girl, I can proudly say is one of my best friends, and I am featured in that story. I was the only one who had seen this guy before so when it came time to manhunt, I led the team. I am also happy to report that her and this guy (picture above) have been dating for almost three years and he has yet to turn her into a lampshade.
It looks sort of like a baby bracelet... Katherine's Story
"I was home from college visiting my family, and went out to a party with some friends one night. I was at a guys' house with whom I had hooked up with before and always had a crush on. My best friend was dating one of his best friends so with some encouragement, I decided to stay the night with him. Not a very good story? Wrong. Well this was only the second time I had ever had sex in the first place, and was the first time I had had sex when I was on birth control, which was the Nuvaring. For those of you who don't know, that has to be inserted into you know... well, you know. Anyway, I didn't think much about it because all the pamphlets said I was aloud to have sex with it in. When I arrived back to school the next day, I did a little self examination to make sure it was still in place. To my dismay, it was gone. Now I knew... if it had fallen out before the sex, I wasn't protected. If it fell out during, well, I was about to be embarrassed. I made the phone call, not quite sure which outcome I would prefer... I called the guy and left a voicemail for him to call me back, and when he did this is how it went;
Guy: "Hey, what's up?"
Me: "Um, you know. Not much."
Guy: "Well what do you need?"
Me: "This is going to be awkward... but, did you find anything that looks like a baby bracelet in your bed today?"
Guy: "Oh yeah, I did. It's on my night stand. What is it?"
Me: "Um... that's my birthcontrol."
Guy: "Katherine, that is disgusting... (long awkward silence)... do you like, want it back?"
Me: "Absolutely not, i'll talk to you later. Thanks."
The little troll just wouldn't accept it... JJ's story
"I dated this girl for about 9 months my sophomore year of college. We met in our learning community freshman year. Our relationship was pretty mundayne, sure she was alright looking but there just wasn't much there. Luckily for me, summer break came just in time. As soon as we both moved back to our respective hometowns (mine was a convenient two hours away from her), I pretty much stopped talking to her. I was just sort of over the relationship, and everytime I tried to express that to her, the little troll just wouldn't accept it. I went back to school to visit my fraternity brothers, and inevitably, she heard of my emminent return and insisted we went on a date, to see the new Batman movie The Dark Knight. I had promised her I would see it with her before we left for school, but being a guy I broke my promise and saw it without her. Twice. Anyway, we go to the movie, and after the movie she revealed to me that she wanted to have sex. I'm male, and my moral compass isn't always aligned so I of course said yes. The funny part is that she comes from a very strict family, so we couldn't have sex at her place, so she stole her parents RV key... yeah, we had sex in an RV lot. Afterwards she tried to pull the I love you stuff. I rolled over and went to sleep. Finally two weeks later of no speaking, she finally got the hint, and it was over. I guess it took a short loveless camping trip for her to figure out that over meant over. I saw her on campus the first week of class and she wouldn't even look at me. It took everything I had not to say 'Why so serious, troll?'"
So... have you been there? I want to hear your best hook-up stories. I know there have to be equally funny ones out there... gimme what you got!
And while you're at it check out some of the following...
www.textsfromlastnight.com -- great website where you can post last night's mistakes.
I was a sophomore in college and deeply confused about so many things I could have written a James Frey memoir and recorded an entire season of Dr. Phil. Out of desperation and a deep seeded need for a connection to anyone but myself, I started dating a guy that a met through a friend. Hindsight being 20/20, I have absolutely no idea what I was doing for the seven(ish) months that I spent with this guy, believing that I was dating him. But if that was dating, sign me up for enrollment in the nearest Convent.
Now that I have moved on and grown out of the phase of being in love with love, I am now able to share my stories about all the ridiculous things I put myself through all in the name of dating.
I met Ben* through a mutual friend and we dated for a while, although I guess "dated" is a highly inappropriate word considering the fact that we never actually went on dates. I allowed this to go on because as I mentioned earlier, in my clouded mind it was better to sit in a room that smelled like body odor and bong water than be alone. Not only did he never take me anywhere, but he never came to my house and he was constantly complaining about my friends. He claimed that he didn't want to meet my parents because no one meets the parents until they are about to get married. What is this? A bad movie? Looking back on these little gems of knowledge he tossed at me for so long I honestly can do nothing but scratch my head and wonder what the hell I was thinking. I also let him get away with never holding my hand, and I never understood why he wouldn't. I always just assumed that I wasn't good or pretty enough for him. Now I know it is because there was a Xbox controller in one hand, and a bong in the other, his hands were obviously full. He'd call, I'd jump. It was about as unhealthy as all the weed that he smoked. Ben also liked to lie a lot, I think next to rolling blunts and blasting emo-indie rock lying might of been his favorite activity. Nothing he said seemed genuine but it did seem to fit into a persona of who he thought the world wanted him to be. This became excruciatingly clear during a night out.
A friend and I met her boyfriend and Ben at a mutual friends apartment. The plan was to hang out and go listen to a band play at one of the local bars. Friend and I had been at this apartment for maybe ten minutes when the incident occurred. Apparently, Ben thought it would be wise to drink and get high on a stomach that contained a measly cup of rice. He was mid-throw in a game of beer pong when he projectile vomited all over himself and the table. That's right, mister cynical unloaded in front of a party full of people. Embarrassing. He was really upset so I took him to his place so he could clean off, because I have this innate need to try to save the day. Yes, I have grown out of that. Anyway, the evening ended with him telling me about how embarrassed he was and how he could never show his face again and how pathetic he thought he was and blah blah blah. This kid really hated himself. I always looked up to him because I thought he had it all together, well, he didn't and no one really does.
To quote an episode of Dr. Phil, there was something about him that I don't like about me. This quality in Ben of him being someone he thought he was supposed be rather than who he really was, is a problem I learned to deal with through my time with him. I really spent the better part of my first 19 years putting on a show for everyone. I guess all that abuse and time I wasted on him wasn't completely useless after all. It took this joke of a relationship to teach me that I always need to put myself first, and through this I learned how to be who I am and never make apologies for it.
And oh by the way, I now know that sometimes, when a person shows you who they are that you need to believe them the first time. You would think that I would have learned with him after he barfed all over himself, but there's no teaching me a lesson I'm not really willing to learn. I tried to contact Ben a few months after we cut off all ties for good, friendship and otherwise. I simply asked him how he was, how his 21st birthday went and all that. And this is what I got.
"Fatty B,
I'm doing great, school is good. I've been working my ass off
so that I can get out of Ohio as soon as possible.
My birthday was amazing. I can now drink legally.
LA was awesome. It was beautiful and I got to meet some
amazing people.
I regret ever having "dated" you. I can do better. I went for
who was readily available rather than who I was emotionally
and physically attracted to. I never took you out on a real
date because being seen with a girl of your frame is, to say the
least, very embarrassing.
I have no desire to talk to you again, and I could care less how
you are doing. Don't regret trying to talk to me. I hope you
now truly understand that I never want to speak to you again.
I think you are a joke, and if you died today I would be overjoyed
to have the chance to walk across your grave.
The end, you dumb, obese, cake eating bitch."
Really? First of all. I don't even like cake. It's cookies or ice cream for this girl. And secondly, I'm not dumb, I'm not the one who lost my license while lighting up a bong in a parking garage, moron. Not to mention, that is most definitely the pot calling the kettle fat if you know what I mean. My friends and I laughed at the fact that we could literally picture him in front of his macbook, fresh hit off the bong, laughing at how funny he thinks he is. Lucky for me at this point I had decided who I was and didn't take much offense to what he had to say. I was okay having him out of my life because I had finally realized he didn't belong there in the first place.
To put the icing on the cake I was so rudely accused of eating "Ben" tried to get a hold of me this past March. This time, I got the last laugh. I've deleted the message off of Facebook but the conversation went a little like this;
Ben: I thought I saw you the other day and I was frozen in my footsteps. Just wanted to know if it was you
Me: Where
Ben: Down on third street
Me: No that wasn't me, I moved remember. And it's too bad you weren't "frozen" in oncoming traffic.
That felt pretty good, cheap or not it was fun to laugh at him. Karma really does come around. Even if it took me a year to learn how to give it back
So, it's time to move past the tears of love lost stupidity. Can you put down that pint of Ben and Jerry's to answer the question, have you been there? I'll give you a minute to wipe the remnants of Cherry Garcia off of your mouths.
"Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once and while, you could miss it." - Ferris Bueller
Hi, i'm Cassi and I am 21 years old. I'm nearing the end of my college career and the older I get, the more I can guarantee that I've been there. I've had my fair share of bizarre happenings, and i'm curious to see: is it just me or is life really as crazy and as unexpected as it seems?
I get my writing inspiration from anyone comical, i'd say i'd love to form my writing into something similar to that of Tucker Max. I met him this summer and it was amazing, I don't care if loving him sets me back 100 years as a woman, that man can tell one hell of a story.
