I knew Mazur from HS, he was my in to the Tri Lambs.
I went through that week you "try out" and get a taste for all different frats (The name for said week is escaping me). Basically, it was like a job interview where the only questions they asked was "How much pussy do you want to get?" styled questions. How did everyone else make the cut?
I also lived in the 3rd floor of the SAE house first semester of freshman year so I was easily accessible for Mazur and Lee to quasi "haze" me in social settings where I knew no one.
I did receive bids from Tri Lamb, Delts, and Phi Kapp aka Skull and Crossbones. I think I picked a winner.
Remeber that night you got drunk and told me why you left LSU?
Rhymes with "Trench Smissed a Gry".
Can you imagine how bad it sucks to be a really cool, smart girl with bad acne? Immediately relegated to ADPi because your skin is oilier than the skinny blond bubblehead named Lonnie.
fuckin relegators. it's nice watching them walking around. sometimes i make surprise gestures/taunts at people in passing on campus. girls usually. i creep now. i crept then.
i went out with fiji my first experience. the guy that picked me and the other two poor saps up, to take us for a weekend of boozing, tubing, etc fell flat on his face at the end of the river float trip, eyes rolled back in head, timber. he was real drunk.
after that i met edmondson, mcnutt, and kummer. all at once. at one point i thought i heard emondson tell me he'd suck my cock for cocaine. he was kind mumbly, and i felt bad every time i looked at his scar birth face mark, "the shit stain" ive heard it called. benefit of the doubt he's a real cool guy. false. mcnutt and kummer seemed like winners though. mcnutt played high school football. and kummer could both hide his manhood better than buffalo bob, and use it to cover aluminum cans. i think he told me once that he liked hate fucking most of all the different styles. not sure if that's changed since he met wife/home decor life specialist coach.
i think meeting portillo is what sold me though. he had a nascar shirt on. this i could relate to. i know rednecks. ironically lee was told to get me high. maybe not ironic. lombardi did try to kick me out later for pot. i lied directly to his face about smoking in the house and then again for doing it behind the house(so as not to dishonor the temple of poon gods), and was not kicked out of frat by a group of my peers. i miss greg carpenter. i dont miss greg carpenter. putting a knee in tim klein's mouth was no more enjoyable than all the other dumb shit i did. nah, it was all kinda fun. a lot of it real dumb though.
I remember you vividly "pausing" TK. He deserved it. Wiliams was wearing a curly blind wig and was pelting George with Marshmellows. That same night Stadler told me the sob story about how he was sought after by Manchester United.
I will always remember my first interaction with LXA as it was a pool party at Clay McNutts house. It was Travis, Faust and I who had never met and 35 Abercrombie and Fitch models playing way too intense water volleyball with the occasional shove of one another into the pool....we knew we had found our home
Miller, that was an awesome comment. I love nostalgia. My first memory of Miller was drinking at Milton Daniel during the first week or so of the frat life. I was in Carpenter and Nystroms room on the 2nd floor, Boyd and Knudsen were there, and Miller was making margaritas. Miller tried to serve Boyd a margarita and Boyd turned it down because he didnt drink. Miller pressed on, and Boyd responded by saying his Dad was an alcoholic and that is why he didnt drink. Then Miller said "You say this now, but I guarantee you that by Senior you and I will be getting fucked up together every night!"
I remember thinking to myself, 'this dude Miller is one hostile relentless mother.'
From that same night, I also remember Miller looking out the window on the 2nd floor of Milton asking us if we dared him to jump out. It was probably about 20 feet. No one cared, so no one dared. Then Miller stuck a leg out the window, I might have gone up to him at that point and told him I didnt think it was a good idea to jump...
OH SHIT! Just when I was about to publish this comment, I remembered the best part of this story. - Miller was on Beeper that night and I believe someone from that room ratted him out?
yes. i was warned, or reprimanded, or given a negative check mark for the day. i smoked out of my milton window too. my resident advisor smelled it. he decided it was best if i smoked in his room from then on.
i was wrong about boyd, we didnt end up becoming great drinking buddies.
I crutched into the foyer of the Main, up the few stairs to the level of the cafeteria entrance. I am wearing a baby blue shirt that indicates my acceptance into the jock fraternity.
I see Neil Jungeblut, also wearing the baby blue of the tri-lamb. We speak, exchange pleasantries and talk about my leg, which is shrouded in a massive black cast. As we talk, a ray of sunlight temporarily blinds us as it nears. When the glow fades, before us stands Marc Miller, who appeared like some biblical supernova; the long flowing hair, wide smile, broad shoulders. I am immediately intimidated and think to myself "this guy is going to get a lot more ass than me. I should have been a Sigma Chi."
We acknowledge that we have been herded together by a similar pledge shepherd and that yes, I was indeed broken leg kid.
We scale the stairs, Neil helps me, of course, and we do some sort of bizarre ritual in a second story room. Then everyone runs to the Greek. I am left behind. I crutch to the fountain and then crutch back to the steps of the Main. My brothers disappear in a pack of colored shirts across Stadium Drive.
17 comments:
I like the new system.
greek orgyness.
the best friends money can buy.
I just erased a jaded post about the Greek system.
We were all sheep too.
I'm glad we were all considered good-looking enough to be grouped in the same sub-culture. It made for some great friendships.
I knew Mazur from HS, he was my in to the Tri Lambs.
I went through that week you "try out" and get a taste for all different frats (The name for said week is escaping me). Basically, it was like a job interview where the only questions they asked was "How much pussy do you want to get?" styled questions. How did everyone else make the cut?
I also lived in the 3rd floor of the SAE house first semester of freshman year so I was easily accessible for Mazur and Lee to quasi "haze" me in social settings where I knew no one.
I did receive bids from Tri Lamb, Delts, and Phi Kapp aka Skull and Crossbones. I think I picked a winner.
You're a truthful man Williams. If we all hid from the past then none of us would be friends. In Zacks
It beats not having friends.
I often forget I even went to LSU my freshman year.
Remeber that night you got drunk and told me why you left LSU?
Rhymes with "Trench Smissed a Gry".
Can you imagine how bad it sucks to be a really cool, smart girl with bad acne? Immediately relegated to ADPi because your skin is oilier than the skinny blond bubblehead named Lonnie.
That was sooo Perez of you A-Dub!
Faust was just on one of those phases.
fuckin relegators. it's nice watching them walking around. sometimes i make surprise gestures/taunts at people in passing on campus. girls usually. i creep now. i crept then.
i went out with fiji my first experience. the guy that picked me and the other two poor saps up, to take us for a weekend of boozing, tubing, etc fell flat on his face at the end of the river float trip, eyes rolled back in head, timber. he was real drunk.
after that i met edmondson, mcnutt, and kummer. all at once. at one point i thought i heard emondson tell me he'd suck my cock for cocaine. he was kind mumbly, and i felt bad every time i looked at his scar birth face mark, "the shit stain" ive heard it called. benefit of the doubt he's a real cool guy. false. mcnutt and kummer seemed like winners though. mcnutt played high school football. and kummer could both hide his manhood better than buffalo bob, and use it to cover aluminum cans. i think he told me once that he liked hate fucking most of all the different styles. not sure if that's changed since he met wife/home decor life specialist coach.
i think meeting portillo is what sold me though. he had a nascar shirt on. this i could relate to. i know rednecks. ironically lee was told to get me high. maybe not ironic. lombardi did try to kick me out later for pot. i lied directly to his face about smoking in the house and then again for doing it behind the house(so as not to dishonor the temple of poon gods), and was not kicked out of frat by a group of my peers. i miss greg carpenter. i dont miss greg carpenter. putting a knee in tim klein's mouth was no more enjoyable than all the other dumb shit i did. nah, it was all kinda fun. a lot of it real dumb though.
sorry for the nostalgia.
I remember you vividly "pausing" TK. He deserved it. Wiliams was wearing a curly blind wig and was pelting George with Marshmellows. That same night Stadler told me the sob story about how he was sought after by Manchester United.
As long as we are on memory lane.
I will always remember my first interaction with LXA as it was a pool party at Clay McNutts house. It was Travis, Faust and I who had never met and 35 Abercrombie and Fitch models playing way too intense water volleyball with the occasional shove of one another into the pool....we knew we had found our home
Miller, that was an awesome comment. I love nostalgia. My first memory of Miller was drinking at Milton Daniel during the first week or so of the frat life. I was in Carpenter and Nystroms room on the 2nd floor, Boyd and Knudsen were there, and Miller was making margaritas. Miller tried to serve Boyd a margarita and Boyd turned it down because he didnt drink. Miller pressed on, and Boyd responded by saying his Dad was an alcoholic and that is why he didnt drink. Then Miller said "You say this now, but I guarantee you that by Senior you and I will be getting fucked up together every night!"
I remember thinking to myself, 'this dude Miller is one hostile relentless mother.'
From that same night, I also remember Miller looking out the window on the 2nd floor of Milton asking us if we dared him to jump out. It was probably about 20 feet. No one cared, so no one dared. Then Miller stuck a leg out the window, I might have gone up to him at that point and told him I didnt think it was a good idea to jump...
OH SHIT! Just when I was about to publish this comment, I remembered the best part of this story. - Miller was on Beeper that night and I believe someone from that room ratted him out?
yes. i was warned, or reprimanded, or given a negative check mark for the day. i smoked out of my milton window too. my resident advisor smelled it. he decided it was best if i smoked in his room from then on.
i was wrong about boyd, we didnt end up becoming great drinking buddies.
I crutched into the foyer of the Main, up the few stairs to the level of the cafeteria entrance. I am wearing a baby blue shirt that indicates my acceptance into the jock fraternity.
I see Neil Jungeblut, also wearing the baby blue of the tri-lamb. We speak, exchange pleasantries and talk about my leg, which is shrouded in a massive black cast. As we talk, a ray of sunlight temporarily blinds us as it nears. When the glow fades, before us stands Marc Miller, who appeared like some biblical supernova; the long flowing hair, wide smile, broad shoulders. I am immediately intimidated and think to myself "this guy is going to get a lot more ass than me. I should have been a Sigma Chi."
We acknowledge that we have been herded together by a similar pledge shepherd and that yes, I was indeed broken leg kid.
We scale the stairs, Neil helps me, of course, and we do some sort of bizarre ritual in a second story room. Then everyone runs to the Greek. I am left behind. I crutch to the fountain and then crutch back to the steps of the Main. My brothers disappear in a pack of colored shirts across Stadium Drive.
Why the fuck did I join a Frat?
biblical supernova? youre so well written. i dont deserve this praise.
it was more of a candlelight anyway. and then someone took the candle away. or was it a lamp?
Game, Set, Match, Miller.
Post a Comment