Craziest Drinking Stories
The “umstudents” LiveJournal community’s “craziest drinking story” thread offers a revealing look at undergrad life. A representative one: “i drank at this one girl’s dorm who i had a relationship with, and we both got drunk to the point of puking. while she was puking, i was calling her a dirty whore and a fuckin bitch.” WITH WHOM. WITH WHOM I had a relationship. Isn’t it supposed to be hard to get into Michigan?
Anyhow, we’re sure that the grad students and non-students have some even better stories. “I drank both of the drinks we were allowed at this department party.” “I was so drunk that I started arguing that there should be this big park going all the way through downtown.”
So, I take it this is “Perpetuate Snobbery Week” on AAiO. I thought the eletism inherent of the “Lets Bash Local Coffee Shops” thread couldn’t possibly be equaled, but your criticism of grammar has done it. That page is impressive and amazing in so many other ways.
posted by yo mamma on March 14th, 2005 at 12:25 amI think it is really inappropriate that this website is critical of University of Michigan undergraduates. U of M students are the BEST students in the country. Yesterday I saw a coed wearing a “Harvard, the Michigan of the East” shirt, and we all know that tee shirts don’t lie. Drinking natty ice until you vomit in your shoes is part of undergraduate culture, and there is nothing wrong with calling a undergraduate woman a dirty whore and a fucking bitch. Maybe she WAS a dirty whore and a fucking bitch. YOU don’t have any evidence to the contrary, right? Maybe she just sucked off this guy’s friend? Did you EVER THINK OF THAT? Vomiting on someone’s lawn is all in good fun, part of the tradition of college life. They call it Big Ten Miracle Grow. Just because you went to a LAME PUSSY school in the pretentious East Coast, doesn’t mean you have the right to criticize the country’s BEST school and the 2004, 2005 BIG TEN CHAMPION. GO BLUE!
This website is a disgrace, being critical of the student life here. Not ALL undergraduates are like the ones who post on the livejournal site. I am going to tell ALL my friends to BOYCOTT this website. Shame on you, AAiO.
HAIL TO THE VICTORS!
posted by DrMandrake on March 14th, 2005 at 12:32 amWhat I find most worrying about that thread is the complete and utter lack of actual crazy drinking stories. No getting drunk at a U of M frat and waking up in nothing but your boxers and a Go Blue knit hat on some residential side street in Ypsi? No worrying tales of squirrel abuse? No wild and wacky encounters with an inebriated Bobby Higginson?
I guess maybe the livejournal crowd doesn’t go to those kinds of parties. Color me disappointed.
posted by art student on March 14th, 2005 at 12:35 amI guess I was thinking that there was so much else worthy of criticism in that story that calling out his faulty pronoun usage would be sort of an understatement, and also that “relationship” is a sort of unwieldy psychobabble word that sounds especially pretentious and euphemistic in this context. (This has been brought to you by the it’s-not-funny-if-you-have-to-explain-it department.)
posted by ann arbor is overrated on March 14th, 2005 at 12:36 amWow, what a turn, Mandrake. I’m just gonna laugh you off.
posted by meg on March 14th, 2005 at 1:00 amYou left out the part about him getting mono. That’s what makes it so crazy.
posted by pfrank on March 14th, 2005 at 1:44 amThere is nothing worthy of critique in that series of postings. And I got to walk away with the alias “poopbucket.”
posted by Poopbucket on March 14th, 2005 at 1:45 amOh, “whom I had a relationship with” is fine too. There’s no real proscription against ending with a preposition.
(The lack of good inebriation stories is directly correlated to the decline of hallucinogens in college. But what do I know; I go to a state school…)
posted by js on March 14th, 2005 at 3:12 am…i weep for the future.
posted by old fat punk on March 14th, 2005 at 8:27 amI’m so glad I’m leaving academia, so I don’t have to deal with these kids anymore.
posted by David on March 14th, 2005 at 8:47 amThis thread is comedy gold. (Laughing for the last 10 minutes).
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 14th, 2005 at 10:00 amWhen I was at U of M (1985-88) I went with a freind to Mr. Floods Party (Now old town?) to celebrate his Birthday. As you may or may not know there are steep steps going up to the place. He drank pitcher after pitcher and started turning into a werewolf. When we were leaving he puked a giant puddle of mess (about 4ft diameter circle) from the top of the entry steps all over in front at the sidewalk. It was really gross and everyone who left the bar had to leap to try not to step in it. But most did. Then as we walked down State St. near the law Quad, he picked up a four foot 2×4 that was lying around. After the third car windshield was broke (with me tugging on him trying to stop him and a loud party coming fro the steamy-windowed frat-house inside) I took off. For at least another year he would walk to campus on a route three times as long as he thought somebody might recognize him.
posted by Al Pugno on March 14th, 2005 at 11:20 amOne night after some shots of Jaeger and a few doses of liquid morphine for cancer patients, my friend and I decided to take our dogs for a walk around River Rouge…he wanted to go to the park but I said, “dude, there are gang symbols all over that place…let’s cut through this apartment parking lot to the alley and go back to the house.” As we passed a couple of tots playing with their dilapidated big wheel, I noticed another small child run behind the apartment, and shortly thereafter a pitbull was released.
The angry beast chomped down on my 15-year-old dog’s head and I thought it was over. I leaped upon the back of the pitbull and attempted to pry his jaws apart, to no avail. Still riding the dog like a bucking bronco, I then tried to poke his eyes out, as my friend grabbed its hind legs and was punching the dog, and incidentally hit me full on in the face with a roundhouse punch, fracuring my eyesocket. The melee continued for what seemed like hours when a partially-clad man with his pants around his ankles came running out the back door of the tenement and issued a one-word command to the pitbull, and it immediately released my dog’s head. “It’s all good,” he said.
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 14th, 2005 at 11:33 amArright, see, now *that’s* more like it!
posted by art student on March 14th, 2005 at 1:30 pmSo I was in Japan, and I was invited by a bunch of colleagues to go to a campground and stay overnight in bungalows. So it is night time, and I have been hiking all day, and dehydrated, and the Japanese start handing me shots of sho-chu, the Japanese vodka. So I pound back about 10 of these, not realizing it messes with your head like absinthe. I am fucked in half drunk. So someone has the brilliant idea of handing me a lighter and roman candles, and so I started shooting them off at my Japanese friend. Someone then has the brilliant idea of taking these away from me before someone lost an eye. Then I suddenly got angry at the river there, so I jump in and started punching it, screaming, “Fuck you river! I own you, bitch!” I am pulled out. An hour later I really feel the need to pee, so I walk over to what I think is the bathroom, open the door, unzip my pants, and start to urinate. I am standing there wondering “who the hell is screaming and what are they saying?” Apparently, I missed the bathroom, opened up a bungalow that a family was staying in, and proceeded to piss all over this sleeping family. I was taken by someone and locked in a bungalow and I spent the rest of the evening punching the walls screaming, “Why have you placed me in Japanese Jail? I want to be taken to the embassy! You are violating the Geneva Convention!!!!!!!!!!”
In all, it was a very bad night.
posted by DrMandrake on March 14th, 2005 at 3:13 pmOk. I’m in Nashville for a Mastercard music internship. They took us out on the town, and because it was connected with the Music in High Places TV show, somehow every bar we went to was told that we were from MTV.
posted by js on March 14th, 2005 at 3:43 pmWhich meant that at each of the three bars, every drink we had was on the house.
Now, I was 23, but some of the other people there weren’t even 18 yet. They weren’t supposed to be drinking, but since everyone was getting rounds, we ended up with all of these inexperienced drinkers ordering shit for everyone like Come Fuck Me’s and anything with Curacao. And I, like an idiot, am drinking it (perhaps to keep up with them, I’m not really sure…)
We end up in this swank club that’s let us all in on the MTV scam, despite us looking like ass (generally- there were some club rats with us). I’m alternating peppermint schnapps and beer as we all take our turns doing kareoke. Somehow, we all end up there onstage for Sweet Home Alabama. About to the part where they start singin’ about Neil Young, I turn into a firehose of vomit. That’s the last thing I remember.
I’ve been told, afterwards, that I managed to puke all over the bouncers who were hauling me out, the limo that took us home, and that I somehow got involved in judging which of the girls in the limo had gone a better job grooming their pubic hair as some sort of consolation because I was distraught over being thrown out, being shitfaced drunk, and miles away from my girlfriend (I’ve heard I was crying).
The aftermath was a day of puking at Cowboy Jack Clement’s house, where some of U2’s Rattle and Hum was recorded.
I will never touch peppermint schnapps again.
WooHoo! my state school homie!
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 14th, 2005 at 5:59 pmYou know, I went here for undergrad and look how I turned out!
posted by Brandon on March 14th, 2005 at 6:00 pmget this…I’m hiking Mt. Kilimanjaro, and a local chieftan offers me a brew of something called bunga-bunga…litte did I know of its deleterious effects until after 3 days when I awoke from my stupor, having been made aware of my inapproriate actions by the members of the tribe. Let’s just say yaks were involved.
Boy, did I feel dumb.
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 14th, 2005 at 6:03 pmDrunk sledding in the Arb with trays swiped from the Couzens cafeteria and then being chased by the Ann Arbor police. Now’s that’s an undergrad experience.
posted by Anonymous on March 14th, 2005 at 6:42 pmSome friends and I were in Meijers Thrifty Acres at 4 in the morning after eating quite a bit of special mushrooms. We found a helium tank outside the floral department used for ballons, and proceeded to inhale most of it. After I passed out, I came to under the watchful eye of two eighteen-ish year old security guards debating whether to call the paramedics or the cops. After I convinced them that it would be a better idea to smoke a spliff with me (it didn’t take much), they did, and I left after making some new friends. Had to hitchhike home after my friends were nowhere to be found.
posted by jimmy on March 14th, 2005 at 6:42 pmJanuary 1986, an aquaintance from high school is a freshman at UM. He goes to the UClub for Reggae Night and gets loaded. His body alerts him that it is time to evacuate his bowels, so he wanders downstairs to the basement men’s room. He pulls his pants and underwear down to his ankles, sits down and begins the process. All is going swimmingly until he suddenly leans over and fills his pants and underwear with vomit. He pulls his pants up and starts the cold, wet weaving slog back to his dorm room at Mary Markley Hall. He gets to his room and changes his clothes (takes no shower, brushes no teeth) and goes to a party at a room on his floor. He meets a young lady, they retire to his chamber, and she performs orally on his vomit-encrusted organ.
posted by LF on March 14th, 2005 at 7:39 pmGo Blue!
holy christ! do all these stories have to involve vomit, shit or piss?
ick!
More violence! More blue-velvet-like absurdity!
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 14th, 2005 at 7:43 pmOkay, Insurgent…you want violence?
I was drinking tequila until 6:00 AM at a bar in Tokyo. I leave by myself, and as I am walking down the stairs, three Japanese teenagers come up and start talking with me in Japanese, which I couldn’t understand fully, but it was something like, “you come here, looking for Japanese women, dirty foreigner.” I tried to explain that I was just leaving the bar and that I have nothing but respect for Japanese women, but knowing my language skill at the time, I probably said, “Japanese women are dogs and should be sliced and placed into toasters.” The one goes apeshit and takes a swing at me. He was drunk, and I was relatively sober, so I ducked, but he got in a few hits. I turn back, swing, and bash him on the face with a quick left then a quick right. He tumbles down the stairs into his drunk friends - they tumble down the stairs like dominos, and I run up the stairs to a hallway, then jumped out the window on the third floor of this building onto the roof of the next building then ran across the roof to a ladder along the side of the building, climbed down to the ground, and ran for my life. I stopped along a river, felt that I had a bloody nose, took out a cigarette underneath a streetlamp, lit it, and started laughing.
So much for participant observation.
posted by DrMandrake on March 14th, 2005 at 8:14 pmJanuary 1985. I move to AA into a house with four people I’ve never met. One guy befreinds me and decides to show me around. We start going to fraternity rush partys with free beer. (He didn’t seem like a fraternity type.) We drink loads, he takes the biggest trophy mug off the mantle and pees in it. I laugh and e hands it to me. It weighs a ton, but we put it back up on the mantle. The we find our way to the basement kithen. We open up the walk infreezer to a cornicopia of food stuffs. We start heaving the sht out the windos into the snow. Hot dogs, steaks, ham. Holy shit I think. Then someone came down the stairs and asked what we were doing. He knewsomething was up and threw us out. We went around back and hauled all the suff home. I only had to buy tater tots to go with all my other foodstuffs for a good six months.
posted by Carp Diem on March 14th, 2005 at 9:07 pmShucks, my life is so boring. When I get drunk, I mostly just babble like an idiot. (Even more so than when I’m sober.) Maybe eventually someone will get tired of listening to me drone on about the poems of Eliot, stories of Hemingway, or paintings of Hopper and punch me in the face. Then I’ll have a good drunken violence story.
(Please, no volunteers.)
posted by Dave on March 14th, 2005 at 9:19 pmyou’re not boring.
a hint: not all these stories are actually true.
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 14th, 2005 at 9:32 pmcalling your mom sobbing about some stupid ex-gf drama shit and then asking her to hold on a second while you rescue the lonely cat wandering in the ann arbor cold at 4 AM is like a fucking mainstay lately
posted by Anonymous on March 14th, 2005 at 10:40 pmYeah, but I’m definitely pretentious because I order Bell’s at the Pig.
posted by Dave on March 14th, 2005 at 11:45 pmI’m pretentious because I order PBR at the Pig.
posted by Annie on March 14th, 2005 at 11:58 pmI wish they had Stroh’s at the Pig.
The $2.50 gin and tonics aren’t bad, either.
posted by Brandon on March 15th, 2005 at 12:00 amI had a few Newcastles at the GLMS show at the Pig last Thursday, but I must say I was more impressed with the warm up act (Zach Broocke) than GLMS (sorry hometowners).
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 15th, 2005 at 12:15 amFree popcorn!
posted by Anonymous on March 15th, 2005 at 12:33 amI’m pretentious because I don’t believe the pig is a bar worthy of my patronage. GO BLUE!
posted by DrMandrake on March 15th, 2005 at 12:48 amOFW, as I just wrote in my blog:
“Time to go downstairs to the 8 Ball while Nashvile John Mayer wannabe Zach Broocke seemed confused at the lack of college-town co-eds visible from the stage.”
Look for him on adult contemporary radio and VH1 any day now, as well as being featured in Newcastle commercials.
posted by Brandon on March 15th, 2005 at 1:07 amWell, shit, OFW, I’ll buy you a beer too, if I ever bump into you down there.
posted by Dave on March 15th, 2005 at 1:27 amHey: PBR *can’t* be pretentious, given OFW’s Blue Velvet criteria!
posted by Alex(andra) on March 15th, 2005 at 8:32 ampbr always will do in a pinch.
Brandon, I was about to post to your blog the other night when one of my ram slots blew out (seriously). I thought ZB was pretty good.
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 15th, 2005 at 10:16 amFrank Booth would be so proud of y’all.
posted by Dave on March 15th, 2005 at 11:13 am…a candy-colored clown they call the sandman tiptoes to my room most every niiiiight…
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 15th, 2005 at 11:27 amWhat’s your name neighbor?
posted by YD on March 15th, 2005 at 2:13 pmAhhh, the King of Beers. I prefer Heineken.
posted by Carpe Carp on March 15th, 2005 at 2:14 pmAhhh frat parties. April 1999- the last party of the year at Delta Chi Fraternity (while it was still cool). I was underage and there will some also underage friends drinking on the second floor balcony-like thing. Cops came to bust up the party after repeated noise violation calls apparently. In our semi-coherent state we go duckballs apeshit about the possibility of MIP, so my friend Clay decides to jump off the balcony and run. He lands in the dumpster, hits his head on the edge and gets knocked out, upside down in the dumpster. I freak out about him and jump after him (obviously not learning from his mistake) I miss the dumpster and miraculously land relatively unhurt, Clay is bleeding in the dumpster though. I don’t know what to do (remember I am drunk) so I run to the cops and yell “My friend fell in the dumpster and is bleeding!” They actually laughed at me. It took me about 2 minutes to convince them to look in the dumpster, after which they called the paramedics, who also laughed at us (Clay was concious now and puking in the much abused dumpster) He got 5 stitches, but neither one of us got an MIP.
posted by GoBlueMyArse on March 15th, 2005 at 3:23 pmLots of “jumping out the window” stories around here. I don’t get it. I thought that was an acid thing.
posted by OFW insurgent on March 15th, 2005 at 4:37 pmI spent my 21st getting drunk in a lounge at Couzens with a bottle of wine from Sgt. Peppers and 40s for my underage friend.
It was mildly annoying to be the first of my group to turn 21, and thus have no one to go bar hopping with.
I have better stories, but that’s the shortest. If I didn’t have to drive home across a heavily patrolled border sober, I’m sure I’d have great Windsor/absinthe stories. Damn shame.
posted by Jen on March 15th, 2005 at 7:22 pmYou are probably frustrated that you couldn’t get into one of the top unis. NO reason to stick around in ann arbor if you hate it so much. We’d rather not have you here anyways. Everytime someone who hates ann arbor leaves..the collective iq of ann arbor increase, while the collective iq of the new place decreases. So leave
posted by nonick on March 15th, 2005 at 7:26 pmyeah, I used to think it was hard getting into Michigan… until I saw you
posted by Anonymous on March 15th, 2005 at 7:31 pmI love it when morons try to make an argument.
posted by DrMandrake on March 15th, 2005 at 7:35 pmSome student has taken umbrage with your post:
posted by Elizabeth on March 15th, 2005 at 7:37 pmhttp://www.livejournal.com/community/umstudents/598262.html
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Did you check out that guy’s site? To stay on topic, let me provide an example of Mr. Torker’s drinking stories.
On the topic of drunkenness, I find a correllary (misspelled, but the Drunken Chip could care less) (lesh?) to my quandary with dancing girls (whom I have not yet touched. NOr particularly wished to. They’re sexy like (non-bizarre) hentai can be: An image, carefully created and maintained to inspire lust, yet inescapably fake somehow. Sexy that is paid to be sexy is not fully sexy. It has the wrong motive. Namely. Profit.) Anyhow, when I get drunk, I start going into a simultaneously released and analytical mode. I observe the symptoms, and categorize them, measure their severity, and enjoy them nonetheless (having never been severely drunk enough to suffer any noticeably ill effects) (”noticeably,” because I’m sure my liver is still none too happy.
Wow, Peter. You CRAZY!
posted by DrMandrake on March 15th, 2005 at 8:07 pmHoly crap.
posted by Dave on March 15th, 2005 at 8:13 pmYou people are lightweights. I went to a state school famous for death by alcohol (and Romanian alcoholic English professors).
http://www.dui.com/alcoholissues/Alcohol/BenWynne.html
If I came home drunk to a car parked in my space - I shat on its hood. (Was the grammar OK there? I’m kinda drunk.)
posted by Leighton on March 15th, 2005 at 8:28 pmPeter’s drinking isn’t limited to alcohol - here are his thoughts on drinking his own pee.
it’s been scientifically proven that pee is not a toxic waste product. 95% of it is water, 2.5% of it is urea and the remaining 2.5% is a mix of minerals, salt, hormones and enzymes. toxic stuff is removed from the body through the liver and bung hole, and your skin actually. pee is actually proven to be healthy for you if you drink a glass every day (i’d hate to be the one who did the tests for that). as amanda mentioned urea (an ingredient in pee) is toxic in large amounts but in small amounts is has a purifying effect in the blood. further more, pee has an antiseptic effect. if pee is applied to the skin in will get rid of skin problems like eczema and icky skin stuff that i don’t know the name of. i was once told that if you pee on your feet when you have athletes foot the pee will kill the bacteria and the fungus will go away, it works, please don’t ask me how i know. there is a name for the practice of ingesting ones own urine it called amaroli.
AND YOU SAY WE NEED A LIFE????
posted by DrMandrake on March 15th, 2005 at 8:33 pmLeighton- I’ve seen someone at the Elbow Room scooping vomit back into their mouth as they vomited (in the bathroom sink). I think in that environment, drunkeness leads to a different magnitude of behavior.
posted by js on March 15th, 2005 at 10:33 pmlordy
posted by OFWinsurgent on March 15th, 2005 at 10:35 pm(shudder)
posted by meg on March 15th, 2005 at 11:37 pmA.) Just because UofM is an outstanding institution doesn’t necessarily mean that everyone here speaks with perfect grammar. They probably just aced every other part of the ACT/SAT.
B.) You forget that UofM is one of the most diverse universities in the nation and for most of the students here, English is at least a second language. Forgive them for not knowing the difference between who and whom.
C.) Your own grammar isn’t so hot: “The “umstudents” LiveJournal community’s “craziest drinking story” thread offers a revealing look at undergrad life. A representative one:” A representative what? A representative look at undergraduate life? I thought the community as a whole provided this look - how does one quote from the source also accomplish that?
D.) UM effing rocks. Deal.
posted by HAIL TO THE VICTORS! on March 15th, 2005 at 11:47 pmHAIL TO THE VICTOR’s post is a great example of the kind of horseshit that passes as logic these days at ye olde state school. Riiiiight - no correlation between verbal and mathematical scores on achievement tests. Michigan must be full of brilliant mathematicians who just don’t understand basic syntax, but who CAN call a woman a fucking bitch and dirty whore as she vomits in the bathroom. Apparently, apart from English skillz, certain Michigan undergrads scored low on the PC section of the SAT. Second, the reason UM students can’t form a coherent sentence is that they must be foreigners who don’t speak English. Oh, that explains everything! I’m sure it’s just those damn asians who we can blame for getting wasted at frat parties and debasing women. Point C simply doesn’t make sense, and shows you’re an idiot. Point D isn’t even worthy of comment.
You’re right, AAiO - It must be really hard to get into Michigan.
GO BUCKEYES!
posted by DrMandrake on March 16th, 2005 at 12:12 amAnyone who’s GSId before knows how shockingly poor the writing skills of some of the (theoretically) “top” students in the nation are. I assume things aren’t actually much better at the “Michigan of the East” or any other school, however. I’m sure the scope of the problem nationwide is even more horrific if even students from top suburban, private, and magnet schools who tend to pack schools like UM are arriving so unprepared and often improving little over their four-plus years here. Awful writing is a national epidemic.
posted by Anonymous on March 16th, 2005 at 12:36 am*Dissociates self simultaneously from jingoistic undergrad and bitter Dr. Mandrake by moving in THE THIRD DIMENSION*
posted by Ben on March 16th, 2005 at 12:37 amDear HAIL TO THE VICTORS
I don’t care about grammar or English skills. I care about it when the person is teaching me and I can’t understand every other word, but I’m in engineering. I’ve learned to adapt, and to rely heavily on the textbook and what they write on the board if need be.
Now: There are people in this university, especially in the LSA classes, who seem simply unintelligent. Not just on a decent university basis, but just overall lacking logical thought processes, etc. It may be a facade, but it seems to follow through on the writing… Christ, I feel sorry for GSIs who have to grade that sort of thing on a regular basis. I’ve had a couple of heavy peer reviewing classes, and they were great to read outloud drunk, I’ll admit that.
For example:
I was in a medical radiation class last semester. The papers we had to produce were put in a newsletter for the department, and since some of our test questions were taken off of it, we had to read all of them as well. Granted, I think our paper (although a good percentage of our grade) was graded all or nothing. Still, many people - and mostly medical students over the nuclear engineers, although the residents beat us both out - who were natural born citizens and spoke perfectly fine put out horrible papers. Even if you neglected the factual errors, just the grammar errors were astounding.
I’m not saying I’m perfect, but I’m usually throwing out a post on here or the other site I frequent while it’s very early, very late, I’m drunk, or both.
posted by Jen on March 16th, 2005 at 4:33 amHa! I actually read the thread this time and realized I distantly know the kid who started it.
… and I may have been to the jello-wrestling party at the bottom of the post. I’ve been to one, mainly because it was at the house behind mine and free beer convieniently located is always a plus. Ah, student ghetto, I do kind of miss you.
Times like this this town feels more claustrophobic than usual. Or it could just be the internet.
posted by Jen on March 16th, 2005 at 4:44 amA few quick drinking stories:
Early on:
* Freshman year I puked in my pants while taking a shit. Unlike the guy above, I was not rewarded with a blowjob. Not even a banana chip.
* Freshman year East Quad Halloween Party. My friends JD and JB and myself mixed Everclear with fruit punch. JB wandered off to get his date, Eener. JD and I became the only two people intentionally slamdancing to the Flying Tigers. Stoney Burke turned down an invitation to have some Everclear. He also refused a monetary donation.
JB rounded us up and sat us down in Eener’s room with a box of Cheez Crackers. Then he went off to dance with his date. JD and I sat yards apart and tried to throw crackers into each other’s mouths. When Eener returned, she broke into tears over the cracker mess. JB did not get laid.
Since then JB got his Ph.D. from MIT. He does research at the FRB. JD is a punk icon in Detroit. He reads dirty poetry.
Middle times:
* Early one evening I studied Physics while drinking lime vodka. Later that evening I wandered around a Zeta Psi party without any clothes on.
* Flashes of memory:
#1) Someone — “The beers gone but I know here there’s a party in Saline.”
#2) Me — “You almost drove into the Goddamned ditch! Let me out of the car!”
#3) I am walking down a two-lane road at sunrise. There are cows everywhere. Fortunately, I ride my bike enough to recognize that I am on Wagner Road, well south of Scio Church.
Recently:
* My two female downstairs neighbors just graduated from Arizona State Art School. The brunette is flirty when drunk (as in “How do like the picture of me and my roommate dragging you upstairs sometime?”)
5 AM on a Sunday morning in late January. I am crashed out drunk and naked in bed. There is a knock on my door. I awake thinking “ohboyohboyohboy!”
My brunette neighbor says that there is a leak in here ceiling and she wants me to take a look at it. So I shave, brush my teeth, and get dressed.
When I get to her apartment, there is no water leaking. I think “ohboyohboyohboy!” At the doorway, I try to kiss her.
Within the last two weeks she has begun speaking to me again.
posted by A Different Jon on March 16th, 2005 at 6:20 amA Different John -
Wait, I’m confused…there actually is a woman named Eener out there?
Second, as to Arizona State Chick. All I can say is to quote Flanders on the Simpsons, seeing that Homer was rescued by God…”Heaven must be easier to get into than Arizona State!.”
You sure she didn’t really just imagine that there was this leak? I mean, art students from Arizona State must have a strong grasp on reality. But I hear they are loose women with questionable morals.
posted by DrMandrake on March 16th, 2005 at 8:01 amMy sophomore year of college our choir went to Chicago over spring break. It was the usual college hoir tour- sing all day, drink all night. One night, the hotel we were staying at was also hosting some frat’s spring formal. So we got plastered, and two of our group (one of whom was my roommate) wandered off to hook up. They thought they were walking into a closet, but it was actually a hotel administrator’s office. So she came back to her office at 2 a.m., after trying to quell some of the craziness from the frat’s dance, and found two people nearly naked on her floor. She thought they were from the frat, so she slammed the door, locked them in, and called the police. I was completely unaware that all this was happening and had decided to go to sleep. The phone rang and someone asked me to bring shoes downstairs. I hung up. This happened twice more, and I hung up both times. I was drunk, too, and did not recognize my roommate’s voice pleading for shoes so she didn’t have to go to jail barefoot. Not long after that, word began spreading through our rooms that two of the group had been arrested and taken to jail. When they’d finally been bailed out and came back in the morning, the girl was wearing very charming slippers provided by the Chicago police department.
I went to their wedding last summer. They’re very happy, even when they have to tell people how they started dating.
posted by Joy on March 16th, 2005 at 8:33 amhmmmm…sounds to me like someone is a little bitter because they didn’t get in…
posted by Anonymous on March 16th, 2005 at 8:40 amWait…isn’t Michigan like the fall back school for the Ivy League? Like if you’re too stupid even to get into Brown you come here?
posted by DrMandrake on March 16th, 2005 at 8:53 amOr too broke to go to Brown…
posted by Anonymous on March 16th, 2005 at 9:35 amMandrake, you know, just because you went to the third best school in the Chicagoland area (Northwestern, where my brother did time; Siebel Institute, where I did by Brewing & Malting Diploma time, rank one and two) doesn’t mean that you have better drinking stories.
I’ve nothing but respect for the U. that is home to Hutchins and Adler. You must’ve loved it.
I did my time at Bill Clinton’s school for Jesuits in DC before my brewing career started, and look what it did to my grammar. Sad.
I can tell you that starting your drinking day DURING a final (identifying flavors compounds in beer) rather than after a final leads to some pretty interesting nights……
posted by todd on March 16th, 2005 at 10:56 amTodd - HA HA HA. You know they have a tee shirt there that says, “Hutchin’s U: Where fun comes to die.” I doubt any undergraduate there could ever claim to have better drinking stories than the students here. But really, Todd, all my drinking started once I left there and came to Ann Arbor - mainly because your goddamn bar is so close to my apartment and 1/2 price night happens way too often.
But you know I’m just joking about the undergrads. I think Michigan is a great school, and the undergrads I work with are some of the most genuinely intelligent students I’ve ever encountered. Except the one that slashed my car’s tires during a football game - that guy needs a dick in his ear.
posted by Anonymous on March 16th, 2005 at 11:17 amWhat a great T-shirt. I love nerds.
My first glimpse at geek-greatness of this kind came when I visited Scott at Northwestern during my junior year spring break. I watched in wonder as two engineering students at his frat were fashioning a three story beer bong that ran adjacent to a sprialing staircase. The first funny thing is that they tested it with water. Only an engineer would actually test the damn thing. Good thing they they did, though, as they found that a thumb couldn’t adequately seal the tube…too much head pressure.
The second funny thing was the solution….they didn’t have time to go to a hardware store to buy a proper valve for the tube, so one of them suggested that they superglue a quarter on each side of the tube so that they could completely seal the tube using vise-grips.
I thought at the time (I was almost 16) that I had just witnessed God at work on his third day of creating the earth.
I immediately redoubled my efforts in school, and enrolled in a tougher math class the following fall.
Nerds rule.
posted by todd on March 16th, 2005 at 11:42 amQuarters glued to a hose - just about what I’d expect from Northwestern greatness. Now I saw some real contruction projects at the UofC. My good friend, for example, was known as the best bongsmith (the real kind) in all the land. One memorable piece was a bubbler made from a torcier lamp and a chambord bottle. Looked like a bubble gum machine, and was internally lit. Probably the most notorious was the ant farm, though. This was a parallel glass plate hookah with alternating wooden slates (so the smoke wound up and down, hence the name), and was also internally lit. Definitely took some beta testing - an early version imploded under the pressure.
And there is, of course, the time a few guys built a funcitonal breeder reactor from scratch for the 99 scav hunt. This thing was sitting in a makeshift metal shed on the lawn of Ida Noyes Hall producing minute (but measurable) abouts of Plutonium 239. They were the only team that got that item.
And come on, everyone knows that Siebel is just a cheap knock-off of Doemens…
posted by Nick on March 16th, 2005 at 2:05 pmLightweights,
We had the vomit-rescooping guy installed in the Elbow’s bathroom to remind you that the South (by extrapolation YpsiTucky) dominates such stories.
posted by leighton on March 16th, 2005 at 2:16 pmI took my pre-SAT and ACT drunk as a high school sophomore down South. Though I got more than enough to get into UoM, it wasn’t even on the party school (or good-looking female student) map. Down there, you either die or stop drinking by the end of your degree. Then you are an adult.
Nick…I am assuming you are kidding, but I did my post-grad work at Doemens in Munich.
Am I to assume you attended Doemens? Or are you just giving me *hit….
The quarters were impressive to a 15 year old kid. Much like colored blocks are for a toddler.
posted by todd on March 16th, 2005 at 2:34 pmLeighton - You talk as if you’re Tucker Max or something. I want to see you walk the walk, man. Mandrake
posted by Anonymous on March 16th, 2005 at 2:41 pmNick - I was in the 1999 scav hunt at the UofC and remember that reactor. Imagine that happening in Ann Arbor - I certainly wouldn’t mind making such a reactor and accidentally blowing up the Big House, at least so I could get some goddamn parking on Saturdays in Autumn in Ann Arbor and not have to hear Hail to the Victors EVER AGAIN!
But let’s not gag on the University of Chicago’s cock, now. That place sucks too, for very different reasons, and is most certainly overrated.
posted by Anonymous on March 16th, 2005 at 4:03 pmReactors don’t blow up.
But have fun anyway.
posted by Anonymous on March 16th, 2005 at 5:48 pmWere you comatose when chernobyl happened?
posted by Anonymous on March 16th, 2005 at 6:00 pmIt didn’t “blow up”. It had a meltdown. It didn’t explode like a nuclear bomb, and a power plant can’t. explode. like a bomb. Which is what I think you were getting at.
You’ll get your evacuation, sure, and a bunch of people will die of some nasty radiation poisoning in 3 days to 2 weeks, I think. But no pretty mushroom cloud.
posted by Anonymous on March 16th, 2005 at 10:10 pmBreeder reactors are meant for making fissionable fuel, not actually fissioning large amounts for energy. It’s not like the reactor you’d find in a power plant.
And yes, Todd, I was totally just giving you shit. I don’t know really know anything about either school. I’m just a wee amateur brewer. Maybe I’ll take that job at Grizzly Peak they were talking about on the AABG list.
posted by Nick on March 16th, 2005 at 10:42 pmDr. Mandrake –
Eener had a doo-dad on her keychain that spelled her name when she fanned it out. As an ice-breaker, she would sometimes fan it backwards to get ‘Renee’.
I don’t know what was going through my neighbor’s mind. I’ll own up to wishful thinking for the leak to be a pretext. They do party. (The redhead stumbled in at 4:00 AM this morning from an after hours showing of ‘Inside Deep Throat’.) But they’ve been chaste when it comes to me.
posted by A Different Jon on March 17th, 2005 at 6:40 amMeltdown is fine with me. So long as it involves the Big House disappearing, I’m cool with that. But a huge explosion would be pretty friggin cool.
A different Jon = I know the sentiment regarding the Arizona State girls. Don’t fret - they live in Ann Arbor = they probably suck. Not in the good way.
posted by DrMandrake on March 17th, 2005 at 7:22 amActually, I’m in Chicago.
posted by A Different Jon on March 17th, 2005 at 8:06 amWell, then, you’re just missing out on the Ann Arbor experience, aren’t you?
posted by DrMandrake on March 17th, 2005 at 8:24 amthen why the hell are you listening to us bitch about AA? ha ha ha ha
posted by Alex(andra) on March 17th, 2005 at 9:21 amDr. Mandrake — It is interesting to hear about an old stomping ground from an acerbic point of view. My friends who still live there couldn’t keep up this volume of reportage.
Alex(andra) — I don’t have a bionic liver or a bionic wallet. But tonight I am off to see the Beer Nuts at the Double Door, a club owned by a U of M Law School grad.
posted by A Different Jon on March 17th, 2005 at 11:40 pmwere your responses backwards?
posted by Alex(andra) on March 18th, 2005 at 11:10 am