In any event, at some point in the night Chowdah found himself needing to use the Little Boy’s Room, as anyone drinking prodigious amounts of alcohol is wont to do.  He eventually made his way through the crowd of drunken revelers, saw a man about a horse, and like any dignified gentleman in polite society, flushed.  At this point, “something” happened.  Details are sketchy, as the only person in the room was an almost blacked-out Bostonian, but the word I’ve heard is that there was some issue of concern with the toilet’s flushability.

As an upstanding and well-meaning citizen, Chowdah looked to rectify the problem and consequently popped the lid off the back tank of the toilet.  Unfortunately he followed it up like any degenerate alcoholic and proceeded to immediately forget what the hell he was doing.  Suddenly finding himself holding a relatively heavy tank lid, he obviously moved to quickly remedy the situation.  Unfortunately, the quickest solution was to toss the lid directly into the bathtub.

With a tremendous commotion, the lid proceeded to shatter into thousands of tiny porcelain shards.  To his credit, Chowdah immediately grasped the seriousness of the situation and hauled ass as quick as he could out of the bathroom.  Upon exiting, he ran into Mongo, who had hear the ruckus, saw the distress on Chowdah’s face, and determined that something had Gone Down.  Chowdah, realizing that other people had noticed things, tore off towards the front door.

(A little background is necessary here, I feel).  Chowdah is about 5 feel tall and routinely described as a “meatball”.  Not fat, certainly, but solid as a fireplug.  Mongo, conversely is in the neighborhood of 6′6″ or so and probably was carrying between 230 to 250 pounds of muscle at that point.  Physically, this was Goliath vs. David’s younger, smaller brother.)

Mongo, as any good underclassman would’ve, hauled ass after Chowdah.  It was sometime in the dead of winter, possibly January or February, and Chowdah had absconded without his winter coat.  By virtue of his long wingspan, Mongo was able to catch him by the back of the collar, but, as alcohol is the great equalizer, was unable to physically stop him and instead was dragged along in his wake as Chowdah began to initiate evasive maneuvers.  When Mongo described it later, he said he felt his arm jerk suddenly left and then quickly back to center.  It was at that point that he slammed headlong into the telephone pole which Chowdah had drunkenly dodged.  The resulting collision caused him to see stars and obviously lose his grip, and Chowdah spun drunkenly and unsupervised into the night.  After hearing the story, we were concerned, but ultimately not enough to leave the party.

One of the older tubas, Pecker, had not been out with us that night, and thus was heading back home alone later that evening/morning.  As he traveled back to the Tuba Haus, however, he saw someone leading a very familiar and obviously very drunk figure down the sidewalk.  As you might have guessed, it was Chowdah.  Calling out his name confirmed this fact to Pecker, as well as engaging the man who had control of him.

After catching up to and chatting, Pecker was able to find out that this random guy had awoke to find Chowdah, whom he didn’t know, rummaging around his house.  To Chowdah’s great fortune, he recognized that this was the kind of drunken trouble college students occasionally find themselves in, and instead of calling the cops he decided to help this wild inebriate find his way home.  Unfortunately for him, Chowdah was far past the ability to remember his address, and as a result they had been wandering the streets since that point.  Pecker assured the grateful man that he did indeed know this particular degenerate and would get him home.

The next day, we were able to get the gist of the story out of the meatball.  Apparently, in a misguided attempt to rectify his earlier transgression, Chowdah broke into what he “thought” was his friends house in order to take the lid from their toilet to replace the one he’d broken.  Once again, however, he fell victim to his base drunken nature, and once inside proceeded to rummage through the fridge in search of something to satiate his drunken hunger.  It was then that the guy discovered him, to his considerable consternation, and through some manner he was able to have a moderately useful conversation with Chowdah to get to the bottom of the misunderstanding and amazingly decided to help him out rather than call the cops.

Like any good story, all’s well that ends well.  I’m not sure if Chowdah did ever end up replacing the lid, although it seems likely.  However, odds are it was far from the worst crime we ever perpetrated at another band house in the name of drunken destruction, and it certainly wasn’t the last such occurrence.

For those of you who don’t even know what Trivia is, let me do a quick rundown. Every year the college radio station WWSP 90FM puts on this little contest for 54 straight hours of some of the most obscure, challenging, and insanely thought out culture questions known to man. The contest begins Friday night and goes straight on until Midnight on Sunday. On the outside, the comprehensible contest looks like a comic-con convention. A demographic mostly consisting of couch potatoes who live in their parents basement, taking notes on every television show they see… hardly the case. Those more serious teams may help the stereotype of the hardcore nerd, but don’t knock this thing until you’ve tried it. Trivia is some of the fun you may ever have.

This year was the 41st contest and brought in a total of 414 teams, representing over 11,000 players, located mostly in the heart of Stevens Point, Wisconsin, but not limited to the world via online play. My team was located in Plover, which is a few miles south of Stevens Point, a very doable drive for running questions, stones, or most importantly, the downtown bars. It is an intense weekend, not for the faint of heart. I moved two Friday appointments to the following week specifically so I could get into town in the afternoon rather than the evening. Cue up Friday…

Friday 4 P.M.

I arrived at HQ. No one being at the house, I found out they had head into Point to watch the Trivia Parade (Yes, there’s a parade) and catch up with some of the 90 FM staff. I forgot to mention this… my team is called the “90FM Staff Infection” specifically known for being a team of former 90 FM staff members and alumni. While they are gone I proceed to check out our digs. It was our team captains’ mom’s house, which was proceeded to be shelled out because she was in the process of moving. Ton’s of space and working internet, very clean… not your typical college house by far, I was already nervous about spilling my beer on the floor.

I drop off a few of my things and look in the garage. Stacked up are roughly 15 cases of beer and two mini kegs of Grolsch. Fun fact #2, one of our team members works at MillerCoors. Boom, beer is set for the weekend and I proceed to pop open a high life bottle. After feeling kind of awkward drinking a beer by myself in a house where the owner probably has no idea who I am yet, I decide to quickly finish and head into town. I just miss my team as they have already head back to the house (great timing) so I catch up with a few 90FMers at the station. After a while I head back to HQ to see what’s up. The team is there and we’re ready to go.

Throughout the entire weekend there probably was anywhere from 9-12 people participating, but there was a general core besides myself that never left. They were as followed:
Cdubyatron: Team captain, also provided the swanky pad that we would be housed in over the weekend. 90FM alumni now living in MKE
Megatron: C-Dubya’s girlfriend and former 90FM alumni. Lives with C-Dubya down in MKE
Meathorse: Remember all the free and plentiful beer I talked about earlier? All thanks to him. Works at MillerCoors now, former 90FM alumni.
Amanda: Meat’s GF, lives with him down in MKE
Sarge: I don’t know how Sarge got talked into playing but he was there the entire weekend, coming up from Madison. Friend to all, likes to drink.
Dan M: I personally don’t know Dan too well, but he was probably the most hardcore about the contest out of everyone. Without a doubt, if not for him, we wouldn’t have placed nearly as high as we did.
JMFH: JMFH drove in from Minnesota. Former 90fm alumni. The only one of us from the station that actually works at a major corporate station. Tells me the corporate world is brutal. I don’t doubt it.
Shanda: JMFH’s girlfriend.

Friday: 5:58PM
What better way to start the contest than shotgunning a beer. What better beer to do it with than a can of Mickeys. Fun fact #3: Mickeys does come in 12 oz cans. Shotgunning one was a poor choice.

Friday 6:00PM
Hour 1 Question 1: We didn’t even listen to the question. The answer is Robert Redford. In tradition with the contest the first question of the contest is ALWAYS Robert Redford. It could be asking what actor was in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid ,who is banging your mom, who is jumping out of a 12 story building. Always Redford. Congrats team, we are 1 for 1 and batting 1000. We will never get to say that again for the rest of the contest.

For the next few hours it’s the fairly typical, eat, drink, and play trivia, fairly standard among almost all teams. I have decided to break open a bag of sunflower seeds and see if I can fill an entire cup before the end of the weekend. More on that later. JMFH decides to break open a bottle of Goldschlager, and about half of us take shots. JMFH, then proceeds to take two more. We’re all on our way and a few more people show up to visit and see how we’re doing, it’s a good time. More shotgunning beers. Then JMFH has to do a trivia focus.

Friday: 10:00 PM
A trivia focus is simply put, the stations way of breaking up the end of each hour. They will randomly call a teams phone number and interview them. Afterwards splicing up the interview in a way that makes it a little more humorous and then places it on the air. Seeing how most of us were former staff members, this call was surely to hit us at some point. JMFH finally gets a call and he proceeds to answer the questions being laid out for him. Keep in mind, most of his bloodstream by now has tiny gold flakes running through it as well. Now I didn’t hear all of the focus but the parts I did hear consisted of JMFH saying that the first person to pass out in the house gets TBagged by everyone else. Then I heard the jokes on them because all of our nuts would be touching. Interesting thought process. Either way, I wasn’t going to be the first to pass out. Trivia focus was a great success. JMFH says nutsack on the air. Win.

Saturday: 2:00 AM
Sarge and I are trying to keep our sanity. Not sure why but our logical answer to this was watching Lady Gaga music videos. I am utterly horrified and stop watching. We agree that the Lady Gaga drinking rule is still established for this weekend. (Lady Gaga drinking rule founded by Boomer, a friend in Madison, if a Lady Gaga song ever comes on you MUST proceed to slam your drink in hand. No matter how full, or if freshly bought, you need to finish). Oh yea, we watched a lot of the Thundercat’s Snarf on youtube as well… like I said, we’re starting to hit the wall here.

Saturday 3:00 AM
JMFH has already passed out hours ago. Not sure if he got T-Bagged or not. Either way I was on my 4th cup of coffee and I was still falling asleep. Meathorse and Amanda had just cashed out a little bit before hand. Sarge was falling asleep on the keyboard, and I was about to do the same. I decide to pack it up and call it a night. I was sleeping at another friends house which was back in Point so I proceed to drive back into town. Not the most convenient but at least I got my own bed this way. I get back and instead of zonking out, the four cups of coffee decide to kick in now. I laid in bed staring at the ceiling for about an hour until I pass out, alarm is set for 7am. Three hours later, its time to get up and do it all over again.

Saturday 7:30 AM
I actually beat my alarm clock up and I head out the door. When I get back to HQ I find most of everyone is asleep yet minus Dan and Megatron. Apparently they pulled the all nighter shift and did the questions all night long. Hats off to them, I enjoyed my sleep. The two then headed to get some rest while everyone else proceeded to wake up and get back to trivia. I quick go grab a cup of coffee, which I then thought in my head was my 5th and 6th cup in the past five hours. I’m a goddamn animal by this point and apparently I’ve drank so much coffee that I’ve seemed to have warped it’s ability to put any effect on me.

Saturday 8:00 AM
Enough Coffee. I crack open a high life. Sarge, Meathorse, and Cdubya follow suit. Sidenote: Morning beer is awesome. Not only do you look like a badass but I think the beer tastes better as you watch the sunrise, and feel the cool morning air float in through the windows and hear the birds chirping. Total bliss.

Saturday 8:30AM
Scratch Morning beer as best thing ever. Cdubya just sacrificed an entire pig and made everyone bacon and eggs. Bacon and Morning beer. Best. Thing. Ever.

This morning was probably the best trivia I knocked out over the entire weekend. Now I usually am a good google searcher and can find the answers but someone usually beats me to it. Not that morning. I was on the ball and knocked out a crap ton of questions. One hour we even went 6 for 8 (eight questions per hour). I credit all my morning beers to my success.

Saturday 10:00 AM
Cdubyatron “Oh channel 7 is here”. This is how big the contest is, the news team from up in Wausau came down to interview a team. Why would they pick any other team? Of course they pick us and they interview Cdubya and take some awesome footage of the rest of us. I’m really glad they don’t show what time they came though, as if you watch the video of it, you’ll notice beer bottles everywhere. These aren’t bottles from last night either. These are freshly pounded or currently drank bottles. Miller really should just straight up sponsor our team because we just gave them free advertisement for the entire central Wisconsin area.

I later find out one of the coolest nerdy things ever. One of our teammates is on google earth. Yes, during one of google earth street camera views you can see him walking to class. Evan, who will soon come into the story, is a good friend of mine and I am so excited about the fact that he has been forever captured into google earth, I proceed to take a snapshot of it and post for the rest of the world to see. I think this is so cool mainly because it is one of my goals to be caught on camera if I ever see a google vehicle recording their streetview. I have yet to even SEE one of these cars and yet, Evan has been immortalized without even knowing.

Saturday 12 PM:
We break 100th place. This is a HUGE deal. Last year we placed 219 out of 430 teams. To break 100 with 414 is amazing, especially since our team is approximately 10 people and mostly drunk.

Saturday 2 PM
We unfortunately fall out of the top 100 and will never recover the rest of the weekend.
Sarge and I decide to go grab some stuff to grill. I introduce him to the mustard Arizona Heat. Yes, this mustard is so tasty that it deserves a piece in this article. Buy some now, thank me later.

Evan arrives. I praise him for his spectacular feat of being on google earth. He later tells me that, it has become his pickup line. “I have been on TV and google earth, wanna fuck?” By this time I am probably one of the least productive members on the team as I have now introduced the youtube video “160 greatest Arnold Schwartznegger quotes” to the group. The group is amused, but Sarge proceeds to quote the Arnold lines from that shitty Batman movie for the rest of the day.

Saturday 5PM:
By this point I have gone between participating from trivia questions, and yelling out random Arnold Schwartenegger quotes all day. I have had at least 6 different kinds of beer, (High Life, Coors Light, Hamms Golden Draft, Mickeys, and my weekend favorite Tyskie) and we proceeded to crack open the first mini keg of Grolsh. See kids, trivia isn’t just for nerds. It’s a heavy drinking weekend.. a weekend in which I’ve opened up my pallet to new beers!

Saturday 5:40:
Flipcup trivia break. Of course my team wins. Flip-flip-flip-a-delphia.

Saturday 7 PM:
I decide to take a quick power nap. An extra 30-45 minutes can be the difference between life and death during this contest. I find an air mattress upstairs in the room where everyone else was sleeping. It’s a long room that could be described as a livable attic space. It’s so far back from the rest of the living quarters I can’t hear a thing. I feel like Ann Frank.

Saturday 8PM:
Another 90FM alumni comes in for a visit. This time, through video Skype. Our old station manager Becca phones in from Colorado. It is all well and good to see her again, but Evan decides to take it to the next level. I have now seen Evan’s balls three times… and so has Becca.

Saturday 9 PM:
FRANKLIN ARRIVES! Backstory on Franklin Feltzberg real quick… Franklin was born 2 years ago when Cdubya got him. Frankin is a puppet. Two years ago our 90fm staff went to Las Vegas. When we were at the New York, New York everyone was doing there own thing. Most people were spending their money on little souvenirs or blowing it on the craps tables. Cdubya bought a puppet. Ever since he’s been around hassling people and being the unofficial mascot for 90fm. About a year ago, Cdubya let him free into the world for other people to use and share. After a year of being gone, Franklin returns home.

Saturday 9:03 PM
Franklin discovers Chatroulette. Any other day, chat roulette is dumb, and a good way to be grossed out for seeing far too many dicks. But with Franklin on camera, Chatroulette, was AWESOME. Me, Cdubya, Sarge and Evan easily spent an hour on Chatroullete while putting Franklin on camera. If you want people to laugh or actually keep them on camera for more than 5 seconds, a puppet chugging a beer is the way to go. Highlite of the event though was Franklin got flashed by a good looking girl because she thought Franklin was funny. Success.

Saturday 11:00 PM
Sarge, Evan and I decide to head back into Stevens Point and go to the bars. Evan is particularly animated about the idea. Before doing so we all finish the first Grolsch mini-keg and hit it with a baseball bat until it looks like a stepped on soda can. Time to go to the bars.

Saturday 11:30 PM
The three of us arrive at the first bar and the bouncer immediately says he’s this close into kicking Evan out. The funny thing is that Evan works at this bar. We later find out that the bouncer is a douche and nobody really likes him. I proceed to make fun of him the rest of the night. In retrospect, all three of us (Evan in particular) were a little out of control, but still, where does this guy get off saying he’s going to kick him out before we stepped into the door. Asshole. We ordered Point 2012’s which is Point’s newest flavored Black Ale, which by the way… DELICIOUS. Evan then proceeds to say the beers slogan “Enjoy it while there’s still time” after every drink.

Sunday 12:00 PM
On to the second bar… More of a club type setting, not my favorite but the drinks were cheap and the ladies were out. I caught up with a few friends that I saw while there and later discovered Evan tried his Google earth pick up line and failed. Onto the next bar.

Sunday 12:20 AM
Third Bar, more Point 2012’s. I decide to grab a Miller Lite to add to my beer list for the weekend and buy the three of us a round. The bartender forgets to take my money, score. Her loss for being stupid, but since I still feel for the working class, I tip her anyway. Now for as many girls as there were at the last bar, this bar is where all the guys mustve gone instead. Guy to girl ratio was easily 10-1. Sargest dream bar, I proceed to pick on his sexual preferences. (Note: Sarge isn’t gay, in fact he somehow pulled in a GF as of recently. Someday I hope to see her in person so I know she’s real).

Sunday 12:40 AM
Bar number 4: We need to get Evan back to the radio station by 1:30 so we set a goal of 2 more bars within the last hour. We arrive at the next bar only to find a jello shot girl. I distract her as Sarge sneakily takes some jello shots off of the platter. We’re assholes. I tell Evan and Sarge we need to head to the last bar if we’re going to get Evan back to the station in time, so we take off. Sarge takes more jello shots for the road.

Sunday 1:00 AM
Final Bar: Sarge orders us a round of Rum and Cokes. The drinks barely had a chance to hit the bar table when Lady Gaga comes on. Lady Gaga rule being enforced, we slam our freshly ordered drinks. Afterwards, I buy us a second round and order the bartender to give me the roll of stickers that have the bars logo on it. He does not comply, but compromises by giving my an armslength of stickers. This will do, as I place them on everyone I can see.

Sunday 1:30 AM
We get Evan back to the station in time. The reason we needed to get Evan to the radio station by then was because he volunteered for a phone shift from 2AM – 6AM. Phone operators are like what you would see during telethons, only they sit there and record peoples answers to trivia questions that called in. That’s right, for the next four hours, the guy that just told some girl he was on google earth and wanted to fuck, is now answering phones for the worlds largest trivia contest. Awesome.

Sunday 3:00 AM
Sarge and I head back to HQ and I head back to my friends place to crash for a few more hours. Night number two was another success. I fall asleep quickly this time around and get a solid five hours of sleep in. By trivia standpoints, five hours of sleep in a row is like 12 hours normally. I feel like I let the team down for sleeping that long and I rush back over to HQ to get some work done.

Sunday 9:00 AM
I arrive to see Evan passed out in the living room. Apparently he successfully handled his phone shift, and then biked back to HQ at 6AM, what a trooper. JMFH offers me some a morning beer. I take one but not as nearly as enthusiastic about it as I was at this time yesterday. I later compromise by pouring some whiskey into my morning coffee.

Sunday 2:00 PM
Team flip cup break. Again, not nearly as fun as it was at this point the day before, but none-the-less I man up and my team wins. You can’t expect anything less from me. Flip-Flip-Flip-a-delphia.

After this the rest of my story gets starts to fade into mediocracy so I’ll just stop there. I end up leaving around 7ish at night even though the contest didn’t end until midnight. I had those appointments that I moved from Friday to Monday so I needed to head back. Oh yeah, remember how I said one of my goals over the weekend was to fill an entire cup with my sunflower seeds I was spitting? Well one of my appointments on Monday included a dentist appointment. By Sunday my mouth was so raw from the salt from the sunflower seeds I had canker sores on my tongue. When I went to the dentist, they saw the cankers thought I had mouth cancer. I told them what was going on and why they were there (later they confirmed I was telling the truth) and they let me go. Fun times.

Our team ended up taking 143rd place out of 414 teams, a 76 place improvement from last year. Grand total of 8 hours (and some change) hours of sleep between Friday and Sunday. After one of the greatest weekends of the year, I was exhausted, but it is, and forever will be worth it. Its great seeing all my friends again and trivia is a time that can bring us together. Next year’s goal is to break 100 which we know is a very doable goal.

After watching these two videos for about 12 hours straight, I started to recall other music videos that I have loved to watch again and again due to some amazing cameo or celebrity feature.  So without further ado, here’s my KDA top 10.

10) Fiona Apple – Not about Love
Celebrity – Zak Galifianakis
This is one of those prime examples of without the video, the song is complete shit.  Zak MAKES this video. The now famous Hangover star shows his indie roots by lip synching “Not About Love” in this vid.  I’d kill for his beard.

9) Stone Temple Pilots – Sour Girl
Celebrity – Sarah Michelle Gellar
A very gothy SMG makes a trippy cameo in this vid.  So weird. Can’t stop watching.

8 ) Lit – Miserable
Celebrity – Pamela Anderson
Sex sells, so why not make a music video of a gigantic almost naked Pamela Anderson while a band sings on top of her.

7) The Lonely Island – J*** in my Pants
Celebrity – Molly Sims, Justin Timberlake, Jamie Lynn-Sigler
Funny song, hot girls, star studded cast.  Andy Samberg, you are a comedic genius.

6) Gorillaz – Stylo
Celebrity – Bruce Willis
I’m not sure how they convinced Bruce Willis to be in this hip video, but I’m glad they did.

5) Tom Petty – Into the Great Wide Open
Celebrity – Johnny Depp, Faye Dunaway
A very young Johnny Depp cameos in one of my favorite Tom Petty songs, of course, is there really a bad Tom Petty song?

4) Justin Timberlake – What Goes Around
Celebrity – Scarlette Johannson
Ok, I may be a sucker for Justin Timberlake (The guy is a triple threat), but if they put anymore production value into this one, it’s a multi-million dollar movie.

3) Vampire Weekend – Giving Up the Gun
Celebrity – Joe Jonas, Jake Gyllenhaal, Lil Jon, The RZA
I’m a big Vampire Weekend fan, so there could be some bias here, but put more cameos in your music video than an Entourage marathon and you’re gonna get noticed. If you’re really savvy you’ll notice the lead girl in this vid is the same girl from the Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa video.

2) Weezer – Perfect Situation
Celebrity – Elisha Cuthbert
The story of how Weezer was born, well not really.  Funny and awesome. Personally, one of my favorite music videos to this day.

1)  Fatboy Slim – Weapon of Choice
Celebrity – Christopher Walken
As if you didn’t think it would be any other vid.  This music video not only takes the cake in the celebrity category, but possibly best overall music video ever.  Spike Jonze hit the nail on the head with this one.

Honorable Mention:

Fountains of Wayne – Stacy’s Mom
Celebrity – Rachel Hunter
Not the hugest name in the world, but she is the pinnacle of MILFs.

Blink 182 – Josie
Celebrity – Alyssa Milano
Alyssa Milano in a cheerleading outfit. Why isn’t this number one??

Aerosmith – Cryin’
Celebrity – Alicia Silverstone
Probably most girls rebel anthem of the 90s thanks to this vid.

Green Day – Wake Me Up When September Ends
Celebrity – Rachel Evan Wood
Long and sappy, but now everytime I watch it, I can only think of her as the Vampire Queen of True Blood.

Gnarles Barkley – Run
Celebrity – Justin Timberlake
The guy is everywhere, I couldn’t put him in the top 10 just because he was already in 2 of the 10.  Again, triple threat.

Usually heading to one of the regular places is good for a few rounds of drinks, watching the locals talk about the glory days, the douchebags be douchy, and the local talent thinking they’re hotter than they really are.  (Not saying my hometown is crawling with fattys and uggos, and there are some hotties, but I am saying most of these poor girls wouldn’t stand a chance in Madison, Chicago, MKE, etc, I’ll be nice and just give them all 6’s).  Getting back to the point at hand though.

This wasn’t a normal night in my town, and the bars were more crowded than usual, and this is why.  Every year my old high school puts on an “alumni basketball tournament” nothing too crazy and since it is a small town you normally see about an average of 6-10 teams.  What it really means though is that it gives everyone an excuse to come back into their old stomping grounds and tie one off.  Picture the night before Thanksgiving at your favorite bar only in the spring. An unofficial H.S. reunion.  Sidebar… my class got killed 51-22 in the tourney, but that’s not relevant.

Unlike many people I know, I am still very close to many of my high school friends.  Even through college, and living in different cities, and people getting into more serious relationships, we’ve always been really close.  That night while grabbing a bite to eat we decided we’d hit up one of the normal local bars that we always go to when people are in town, the River Rail. We had heard that some guy won the local sign in at the bar and pulled in $13,000.  Thanks to that he decided to let the bar drink on him for $1000 worth. $1000 worth of free drinks meant that the Rail would be awesometown and we had to go. Combine that with a 21^st birthday party being celebrated down there by the bosses daughter = more girls, and more free beer.  We headed over a little after 8:30.

Now, the way I have been describing my hometown makes me sound like I hate it here… that couldn’t be farther from the truth.  I love it; I just never really expected to be back as a permanent resident after getting a college degree.  Here’s one of the reason I love this town.  We got to the Rail at roughly 8:45 expecting to hit up the $1000 bar tab which started opened at 8pm.  Never underestimate free loading drinkers… we missed the tab… by a solid 20 minutes.  They opened it at 8 and it was closed out at 8:27.  As much as I was in shock and awe, at the same time I was not surprised and knew I just made a rookie mistake by not heading over right when it opened.  Come on rook, you know better.

I managed to find the 21^st birthday party section, and knowing the boss and his wife = an automatic in no matter what your situation is.  Free beverages and food was back on track.  After a few hours of this, you could tell that things were starting to fall into that dull déjà vu type of scene, and that’s when it all started.  Me and one of my friends Jess, from that strong core I mentioned about earlier, were chatting it up over to the side by ourselves, when we noticed another one of the guys talking to this older girl.  Not too much older, nothing obscene, but it was enough to grab our attention.

We immediately debated the chances of if she was going to go home with our other friend or not, whether she’s a slut or just randomly talking, and of course, how old she was.  I immediately said 28 to Jess and got the “how drunk are you” look right back at me.  Jess says, “over 30”.  Of course I shake that notion off as insanity and blame her vision on all the free beer.  After arguing about this amongst ourselves we finally come to this conclusion.  Overunder is 30,  loser buys the shots, and go.  I pick under, Jess picks over.  Now comes the hard part of how to find out how old she actually is… or is it really that hard? (that’s what she said!)

This is why overunder age is the best game ever invented.  Not only do you get to place in your bets, but guys, asking a girl’s age may seem intrusive and like a horrible way to start a conversation… but it isn’t.  Yeah it’s not the newest trick in the book but it’s got three constants every guy loves… gambling, drinking, and hit on girls.  I eventually went over to ask her age. She was 35, I lost. … or did I?  1) Gambled? Check, lost the over under but I got my bet in to the best my effort 2) Drinking? Check, lost the bet, buy the shots, but also take the shots. 3) Hit on girls? Check. Not only did we chat it up, but I won the flattery card by telling her I guessed the under.

More and more of our friends saw Jess and I doing this and before you knew it we had a full on gambling ring going on by our table.  You would place you bets, pick your poison and then, go find out their age.  We even did it with a few guys, to keep the girls of the game intrigued. In fact, I deem this a rule when playing Overunder age.  If you are with a group of only males, and you start approaching girls and ask for their age, it may be cute at first, but 2 or 3 times in, you’re just that creepy group of dudes that sits at the end of the bar.

It was probably the most fun I’ve had in a while when just staying in the small town for the night.  I loved the game so much I ended up going to a second bar after all my friends went home and taught the game with a group of people I met there.  The night was a huge success and it will be played again. Right after I finish out creating the great drunken scavenger hunt…

It would be a bald-faced lie to say that I haven’t taken advantage of the socializing opportunities that college has provided me.  By virtue of not only living in Madison, but also associating with a crowd of known inebriates, I am rarely lacking an opportunity to go out and have a rip-roaring time.  This is all well and good, but even I occasionally have to give in to ‘manifest destiny’ and take to the roads in search of new lands in which to debauch myself.  Luckily enough, a good handful of my friends attended college at the same time as I did, but at a different school.  This is an optimal situation, as it allows you to form a sort of symbiotic relationship which enhances the experience of both parties.  Pay attention any future collegians out there, cause here comes the science.

Obviously out of high school, everyone wants to go to college with all your bestest friends…it’s a standard trope in any ‘coming of age’ high school film.

Don't worry guys, it'll be alright

Not going to the same college leads to no end of depression and angst.  This should not be the case.  Unless you’re some sort of socially maladjusted weirdo, (not that there’s anything wrong with that), you’ll make new friends in college.  You’ll party/rage/get in no end of trouble with these friends, but you won’t forget your older friends.  Thus, you’ll have to go visit them.  This works out great, as you’ll be able to explore new and exciting bars/parties while still having a place to crash at the end of the night.  Obviously the reverse is true as well, and your friends will come visit you, setting the Circle of Party in endless motion.  But enough generalizations, let’s get to the meat and potatoes.

I buzzed up to visit some of my good friends at UWSP semi-regularly and had countless wonderful experiences because of it.  This particular time was early in my collegiate career, 2002 or 2003 if memory serves me.  I had gone up for a weekend of mayhem, and a number of my other friends had came into town as well, so it was a regular high school reunion.  Think, Saved By the Bell: The College Years, but with lots more reckless underage drinking.  We partied in the dorms for a good while, as any good under-ager will do, and then decided to head out and hit up a house party.  That’s unquestionably one of the ways in which Point differs from Madison, in that certain houses are ‘Party Houses’, and will usually be throwing a party on a set schedule.  Thus, without having to know anyone who actually lives there, 19 and 20 year olds who don’t have fake IDs still have an outlet in which to binge drink to their heart’s content.

Suitably lubricated and getting a little too rowdy to be in the dorms, we headed out to get ourselves some cheap beer in red cups.  We were walking over to Reserve, which I believe is where the party was, but when we got close, our night started to crumble in front of our eyes.  Time and alcohol have dimmed some of my past memories, so in the interests of being completely honest, I’ll admit I can’t remember exactly why the party was shut down.  If memory serves, it was either that they had run out of beer, the cops had busted them, or that they simply weren’t throwing that night.  Perhaps one of the other miscreants in our group who reads these could fill in the details better via a comment.  Regardless of how it happened, however, our plans for the night were effectively shattered.

Wait, my party sense is tingling

There we were; young, drunk, and without a place to continue down that path of youthful indiscretion.  We wandered shell-shocked through the streets, searching desperately for another one of the usual party houses with something going on, but all our efforts came to naught.  We decided to pack it in for the night and head back to the dorms.  That’s when Adam suddenly displayed a skill that I never knew he possessed.

We were walking down a darkened residential street somewhere in the Stevens Point residential district near campus.  It’s after midnight, and understandably every house is completely darkened and silent.  I can’t stress this enough, the street was effectively deserted except for our small, motley group trudging dejectedly.  Suddenly, Adam came to a dead stop, cocked his head sideways and loped off towards one of the houses.  If you’ve ever partied with him, you’ll know that this behavior isn’t really outside the norm for him, so we didn’t think much of it until he went to a side door, opened it, and walked in.  Now we didn’t know what to do…had we just witnessed our drunken friend break into someone’s house?  This is not the sort of situation that a group of young people under the influence are equipped to deal with.  As we huddled together and tried to come up with a plan, or at least to get our alibis straight, Adam came back out and waved us over.  We tentatively headed over and he said, “These guys said it’s cool, we can party with them.”

Completely flabbergasted is probably the best way I could describe my state of mind as we walked into this house.  Somehow, using some sort of ESPP (Extra-Sensory Party Perception), Adam had managed to locate a party out of veritable thin air.  Speaking of thin air, the atmosphere inside the house was anything but.  We had stumbled upon a veritable clambake, as somehow they had sealed the house off completely from the outside, (probably why there was no visible signs of partying), and a smoky haze completely filled the air.  Now I, for one, have always passed on grass, much to the disappointment of my good friend, Boo.  That being said, I don’t hold some sort of holier-than-thou attitude towards it.  If other people want to partake, that’s cool with me, I’ve always simply said that I’m more than capable of getting completely fucked up solely on alcohol.  With that attitude in mind, my friends and I planted ourselves near the keg in the basement and proceed to powerchug for a while.  Standard stuff really, catching up with my buddies, drinking, and generally having a fantastic time.  At some point we decided it was time to pack it in and head back to the dorms.

These guys rock at getting people out of jams, but could they find a sweet party?

There were about 5 of us crashing in Slip and Adam’s dorm room, which like any dorm room you’ve been in was not exactly spacious.  Nonetheless, we all got situated and tried to pass out for the night.  Tried to being the operative phrase, as we proceeded to engage in some middle school girls slumber party level of giggling and talking.  After about the twelfth time we all broke down in convulsive laughter, Slip made the astute observation, “Holy shit, we’re all high as shit right now!”  This obviously took me completely by surprise, but after considering it for a hazy drunken minute, it made a lot of sense.  Smoke rises, and my height had basically kept my head in the clouds all night.  Giggling quietly to myself with that knowledge spinning around in my addled head, I drifted off to black-out land.

And there we are, scientific proof that Adam has some sort of mental powers regarding party location.  He’s like the A-team of having a good time…’If you need a party, if no one else can help, and if you can find him, maybe you can hire… The Adam-Team’.  Trust me on this one, it was kinda spooky in an awesome way.  But in any event, that wraps up another one of my rambling stories.  Hope I was able to do it justice, Adam.  Peace out, bitches.

So as I was saying, what the hell should I write about this week? March Madness? ehh not quite yet. Nascar? That’s a laugh. NBA? I don’t thi… wait. WHAT THE HELL DID GREG ODEN DO? For those of you who don’t know Greg Oden is the failure of the man who once graced Ohio State with his presence on the basketball court. Destined for greatness… or so he thought, as he left Ohio State early to pursue the professional sports world. But everyone has their weaknesses and to go along with his frail body, Oden’s brain apparently isn’t all there either. As if you needed me to tell you that fellow Badger fans… we saw the guy attempt to run a play, shoot the ball… or try to walk for that matter.

Out for the season with another knee injury, Greg Oden has seemed to have found something to do with his time while healing. As of recently pictures of Greg Oden wearing nothing but his birthday suit best have came floating through the world wide web. I wish the internet would have denied this little mishap. This is causing some heat not only him but the NBA and already Oden has had to apologize for the series of photos. And No. I will NOT show these photos of Oden nude. It’s bad enough we have to see him clothed.

Man you know it’s a slow news day when I have to resort to writing about the worlds worst basketball player, from Wisconsin’s most rivaled collegiate team. Not even about basketball either… I apologize for this. To make up for it here’s a clip of another person other than Greg Oden failing at life… hope it brightens your day.

Totally untrue, Brewers vice president of communications Tyler Barnes said.

“The reporter or whoever else is putting that out there should do his homework,” Barnes said. “It’s irresponsible. We just finished ninth in attendance, we have one of the best ballparks in baseball and an owner who is totally committed to the [Milwaukee] area.

“That report is beyond hilarious. I needed a good laugh today, and I got it.”

Not only this but the teams lease at Miller Park runs through the year 2030, which also includes a non-relocation agreement. Not to mention, Florida game attendance in professional sports is horrendous and would be a poor financial move for any team.

For 6 non-consecutive years, I was a member of the greatest college marching band in the history of ever.  Yes, even better than those Buckeyes and there TBDBIWTFE or whatever the hell that acronym is.  As such, I’ve had an opportunity that few people get to enjoy, in that I’ve attended a hefty amount of sporting events for free, usually with pretty decent seats.  Additionally, I was usually there on the University’s dime, and all I had to do to earn it was to play a tuba, something I like to do anyway.  A rough life, I can assure you.

In 2005 I was selected to be a part of the band which would travel with the Men’s Basketball team for their postseason tournaments.  Basically, we got to go to the Big Ten tournament, (which I believe was in Chicago that year), and to wherever we ended up in the NCAA tournament.  This not only makes you root even harder for the team’s success, as it directly correlates to your Spring Break plans, but also manages to make Selection Sunday even more interesting as you find out where you’ll end up.  Though many more incidents and stories occurred during the tournament run that year, this particular story takes place at our first round site, Oklahoma City, OK.  Not exactly the tropical location swimming with coeds that I could’ve hoped for, but as is my nature, I was determined to make the most of it.  I mean, hey, how many people even get to say they’ve seen one NCAA tournament game in person?

We flew into to OK City with the team, arriving on Wednesday the 16th, if memory serves.  Got settled into our swanky hotel, (staying with the team has some definite perks), went and checked out some of the team shoot-arounds at the arena, explored the area nightlife and generally lived ourselves up.  We didn’t play our first game until the 18th, so our St Paddy’s Day started off innocently enough; we were in a parade, had some lunch, and then lounged in the hotel hot tub with copious amounts of beer and plenty of TVs pointed at us to catch all the first round action we could.  I don’t think I’ve ever been quite as relaxed and carefree in my life as I was on that afternoon.  It would serve as a startling contrast to the single-minded dedication and dogged pursuit that a small group of friends and I would exhibit later that evening.  Our goal?  No more lofty than that of any other reveler on this most inebriated of holidays: to not only consume beer in massive quantities, but also for that beer to be a festive green color.  As one of my good friends once remarked about the holiday, “If you’re not shitting green on March 18th, you probably didn’t try hard enough.”  Since that day, that has always been the benchmark by which I’ve judged all my St. Patrick’s celebrations.

After the games concluded for the evening, we decided it was high time that we get this show on the road.  Due to our advanced scouting reports, we knew a good handful of band nerds had already gathered at the Spaghetti Warehouse downtown to grab some dinner, and the green beer was flowing.  Though dedicated drinkers such as us had no need of food yet, the siren song of green beer quickly drew us to join them.  Some 20 minutes later we had gathered a sizable troupe of Wisconsinites and were having the kind of rip-roaring old time that only we can.

This frivolity soon came to a screeching halt, however, as the bartender informed us that we had consumed all of the green beer that they had in the place.  For my own part, I’d like to think I was less surprised at this occurrence and more surprised at just how quickly we’d accomplished it.  In any event, this information led to a brief and heated conference as we tried to determine our next plan of action.  To our credit, the obvious decision was reached, and we decided as a group to set out in search of more emerald colored deliciousness.  Thus began the epic and impromptu St. Patrick’s Day Pub Crawl of ‘05.

From ritzy dance clubs to seedy dive bars, our intrepid band kept up a relentless pursuit of our goal.  Despite our motivation, however, time started to work against us due to a number of factors.  Firstly, regardless of whether a bar had green beer or not, as friendly Midwestern alcoholics we felt obligated to have at least one drink wherever we stopped, which was everywhere.  Secondly, there was a fair number of random Wisconsin fans (read: rich alumni) who had come down to catch the games, and upon learning that we were in the band were only to happy to buy us some drinks and chat with us (read: SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS!).  Those two issues seemed destined to keep us from ever finding more green beer, as invariably we would walk into a bar and be informed that it had just ran out.  These constant setbacks, enjoyable though they were, caused the group resolve to waver.  By the time we ended up at a honky tonk bar with a live blues band on stage and a $2 Dos Equis special, the crew elected to give up the hunt.  As it was roughly 11PM, the prevalent thought was that it was better to enjoy the remainder of the night somewhere that was pretty cool instead of chasing an elusive green unicorn.

Luckily, myself and two other buddies were true believers.  Somewhere in our heart of hearts, deep down in a way that even we likely couldn’t understand we knew that there was more to be had this evening than cheap Dos Equis.  Destiny was afoot, and it beckoned us onward into the night.  So we pressed forward, continuing the bar to bar slog with still no success to show for it.  As we neared the last bar in our winding downtown crawl, even we were beginning to think that perhaps this was indeed a lost cause.  I’ll freely, if somewhat ashamedly, admit that upon seeing the glowing, tiki-themed bar ahead of us, even I suggested we just head back to meet up with the others.  Luckily, for the second time on that trip, I was about to have my initial perceptions shattered in a wonderful way. (B’s note: For reference, I’m referring to an unmentioned incident from earlier on the trip.  For more information, please keep your eyes peeled for my eventual book)

One of my friends rationalized that the least we could do was to ask about green beer, as it was the only place left.  We agreed, if for no other reason than general principle, but our hopes were not high.  A waitress was outside wiping down the patio tables, (complete with palm tree umbrellas), so he went over to talk to her over the thumping bass beats of dance hall music coming from inside;

“Excuse me, Miss, but we were wondering if you guys were serving any green beer tonight, you know, for St Paddy’s Day?”

“Yeah, it’s free, actually.”

For maximum enjoyment, please play this video, skipping ahead to roughly 53 seconds in while reading the next paragraph

I know I can’t speak for everyone in our small group, but to me, hearing those words was as if the Heavens had opened wide, replete with trumpets and choirs of angelic voices, thundering down through the firmament to finally bestow justification on our noble journey.  SUCCESS! SWEET GREEN SUCCESS! After we had all calmed down from our respective flights of ecstasy, the waitress informed us that the deal was all you could drink green beer, for free, after you paid a 10 dollar cover charge.  The only other time I’d seen people run into a line with such joy in their faces was earlier that year when we’d been stranded in Tampa for a day after the bowl game with a liquor store down the street and nothing to do all day (Will also be in aforementioned book).  I was practically giggling as I got my hand stamped and walked into the largely empty bar.

We bellied up to some open stools at the bar and the bartender grabbed us a pitcher of green beer.  We politely informed her that we ‘weren’t from around here’, and that maybe it would be best to just get a couple of pitchers for the three of us right away.  She laughed and assured us that she’d be able to keep up with us, as there were hardly any other customers yet.  Three pitchers later, she had two sitting in front of us and every time she walked by she’d just drop off another one.  Obviously a quick learner.  For our parts, we were happy living the lifestyle of three people rapidly descending into inebriation.  I was frantically trying to call everyone I could think of to let them know about this foolish drink special that we were going to abuse like an asthmatic in a game of dodgeball, and if they were able, trying to get them to join me.  Eventually we got a decent handful of the other nerds to come join us, much to their great delight, and things progressed rapidly downhill from that point.

Sadly, that’s where my narration of the story ends.  Things from that point on are extremely dark and fuzzy, memory-wise, and likely for good reason.  I do have it on good authority that sometime shortly before bar time I fell backwards off my stool and onto the floor, immediately jumped to my feet with a crazed look in my eye, and dashed off into the night.  I woke up in my hotel room the next day, so obviously I made it back safely, but nobody really knows when I got in or what kind of trouble I may have caused in the interim.  I do know that apparently my partners in crime took advantage of my dramatic exit from the bar to make off with all the loot that they had apparently been leaning over the bar and grabbing throughout the night.  They cut me in due to my unwitting help with the scheme, so I got a cheap plastic pitcher, a strainer and a couple of pour spouts out of the deal.  And yes, cause I know you’re wondering, my BM the next day was a healthy forest green color.

And there we are, another tale in the can for your viewing pleasure.  Once again, I know I got a little long, but if the response to my last post was any indication, you guys are willing to stick it out to hear all the ridiculous details in the saga of my life.  Keep your eyes peeled, say your prayers and be sure to eat your veggies, and I just may bring another thrilling story your way next week.  Till then, adios, muchachos!

Like what was said in the video… this has a major impact on the healthcare reform bill, and possibly even Obama’s 2012 hopes. …all I know is, I’ve never seen Jon Stewart so distraught and I have Dropkick Murphy’s – “The State of Massachusetts” blaring. What do you think? Congratulations Brown, please don’t ever pose nude again.