The Joys of Socom... Sike.

So, Dave and Shawn have become obsessed with this wretched playstation game called Socom. More like Socrap. All they do is sit in their respective rooms with their little headsets, yell to each other and at other players and blow each other up or run each other over with tanks. Woo. At dinner tonight Shawn compared me and him to a divorced couple fighting for custody of the kid. Dave being the kid. I still cannot fathom the love men/boys/dumbasses have for video games. Especially video games where there isn't a very clear beginning and end. This is why I enjoy regular old school grey box Nintendo. We all can understand that Mario starts at the beginning of a world, stays on one path, kills some flying turtles, hits his head on a box at the end, collects some coins, perhaps a new life, and moves to the next world. Simple. Socom = not simple. Socom = stupid. Oh yeah, I have a disclaimer for this blog. Shawn told me I could do it. And Dave knows I love him. And he did give me neat computer toys that make my computer better that I don't understand. So I told him I'd make him cupcakes. Even if he does like Socom. As long as he doesn't start coming to bed with his controler or headset... or Shawn... I suppose I can deal with this video game obsession.

Emergency Tampons and Ipods

Remember the blog about how we got pulled over by the lady cop and Wiggins swore he had seen her titties and he also swore that we had emergency tampons in the first aid kit? Well, Erin and Wiggins wrote on each others' walls on facebook and I found the comments to be so amusing that I had to share them with the rest of you. Without further ado, here are the funny wall posts:

Erin: If the need of emergency tampons arises, contact your nearest wiggins.
Wiggins: If you are ever riding with E-Bizzle on a late night and get pulled over you have one of two options of getting out of it: A- start yelling to your friendly passengers that you know the cop and you have seen her tits before, or B- reach into the handy dandy first aid kit, which is located in the very, very back of the four runner where you were forced to ride, pull out a tampon and wave it aggressively at the officer. option A is a def. win, B sounds good though!

In other news, I bought an Ipod. Nano. It's tiny and it pretty much really pisses me off. I have no idea how to work the thing. I have songs on it... in no particular order, which might actually frustrate me more than having no songs on it at all. I'm such an impulsive shopper. Whatever. I will figure it out. Or, Dave will figure it out and teach me. Yeah, probably the latter of the two.

WTF, Mate?

We accidentally had a party at our apartment Saturday night. Dave, Joe, Shawn, Corey and Dan came over to entertain Erin and me. While 7 people may not seem destructive... don't be fooled. Especially by this particular group. First, we played What the F*ck? The outrageous drinking game wherein you are posed with assonine questions such as "The director of Baywatch asks you to appear in an episode as a drowned victim wearing only a thong. Do you appear in the show?" and "As you age, what would you rather resemble? (a) A horse's ass (b) A waffle iron." Then you are supposed to guess the answer of the person who was asked the question... if you get it wrong, you drink. Needless to say, we all got drunk. At some point, I went to the bathroom and when I returned I found that everything on the table was now on the floor and there was somewhat of a mini panic occurring. Apparently Dan's big feet got in the way and knocked over the whole damned table. Including my last glass of Reunite! (For those of you who drink expensive wine, you many not be aware that Reunite is a "soft red" that basically is sparkingly grapejuice that you find in Ingles for $8 a gallon that gets me way drunk. Yay, cheap date.) So we gathered some cleaning supplies, pretended to clean and continued to play ridiculous games. At this point I think we were playing Circle of Death. Well, I don't know exactly what sparked Erin to do the following... maybe it was banging her head into the doorframe, maybe it was falling on her ass... but I believe it was her who threw a couple of cards from the game at one of the boys. So, they threw some cards back. Then Erin launched the entire deck of cards and the remote control. We all then began to participate in the "throw anything you can find" game. The aftermath looked like a bit of a tornado happened in 148 K. There were 2 decks of cards, 500 sweet tarts, wet paper towels, dry paper towels, chips, pillows, beer cans and other assorted objects strewn about the apartment. Apparently, that game led to another game... of Joe and Corey wrestling in the kitchen. Erin tried to break them up and got quasi-beat up in the processs. Bloody knee, to be exact. Her efforts went unnoticed. So, I chose to step in and take action... with the water sprayer from the sink. I sprayed the hell out of them, all the while taunting them by saying things like, "Yeah. See? How do you like that? That'll make you jackasses stop wrestling!" Karma's a bitch and of course, they retaliated and got me soaked, in turn. Joe used a bowl in the sink to splash all over me, to be exact. At least I got the bastards to stop before they broke my kitchen. We left the apartment a disgusting, wet disaster and went downtown. It sucked. I spilled amaretto sour all over me, and I think I grew out of downtown Clemson. So, we rode the catbus home. Ha. Good times.


Another trip to Charleston happened this past weekend. Dave, Joe and I took the Celica to the lowcountry. This was a bad idea on many accounts. First, a monsoon hit the upstate and almost drowned us. I made Dave drive which was good and bad. Good because I have crappy night vision, bad because I didn't have control over the brake. I was one big anxiety attack for most of the ride. Blah. We successfully made it, though, and immediately went downtown.
While walking through the parking garage to get to Purple Tree, I managed to wedge my stilletto heel into this teeny tiny crack in the concrete, get my shoe completely stuck and almost fall on my head trying to free myself. Only I could pick the one stupid crack in the damned parking garage to fall into... it took two of us to get the bastard out. I should have known then that I was doomed for the rest of the weekend...
Megan and I started the night off with a Mind Eraser. Followed by another Mind Eraser. God, we are idiots. We had some Vanilla and Diets and one more Mind Eraser... because two just isn't enough. Nothing really exciting happened in Purple Tree. Although I did send Catherine a text to see if she was coming out and it went something like this:
Nicole: are you coming downtown?
Catherine: yeah, where are you?
Nicole: Purple Tree.
Catherine: Dollar?
Maybe she thought I was at the Dollar Tree. I don't know. I never confirmed the confusion...(for those of you who do not know, Catherine is one of Adam's ex-girlfriends, like myself. Her and I, how shall I put this? Shared a few stories and basically became reeeeaaaal good friends and have made many an attempt to actually meet in person, share a hug and take a pleasant little picture for all to see. We still haven't managed to do this, but do not fret, that day will come.) Anyway, City Bar was next on the to-do list. As soon as we busted up in there, the bartender that loves Megan started lining up Apple Bombs. Ooooh weeee, that was nice. So then, a great idea came to Megan and I: we should dance, not on the platform/pole that we usually molest, but rather on the BAR. See?

Jesus help us. We boosted our drunk asses up on the bar... I do mean boosted too -- some dude had to push me to get my ass up there... started shaking our asses and made one hell of a scene. Of course, I almost busted my ass and brought Megan with me. You may not be aware of this, but bars are very slippery when wet. And since drunk girls like us get on these bars and knock over drinks, we are in fact the ones who cause the slipperiness. We danced for a while and then got kinda tired so we decided to get down... most ungraceful dismount ever. We just plopped down and scooted off the edged mid-song. Real classy. I had looked down to see if Dave was watching while I was dancing, but I found him looking around instead. I got all whiney and asked why he didn't want to watch me. He told me that he was watching me, but then noticed the other 30 guys watching me and decided to watch them instead, one particular little Chinese man he said was especially gawking, so if necessary he could kick some moron's ass. I slurred something about him being a sweetheart and such a good boyfriend and how I just love the hell out of him. Yay for Dave.
We went home or got kicked out of the bar or something. Either way, I was a waste case. Had I known the hangover that was to come Saturday morning, I would have never drank a sip Friday night. Curse you, Mind Erasers. How I hate you. So needless to say, I laid in bed until 7 pm Saturday. Dave brought me Sonic, but I couldn't eat, because chewing was too much work. Dave offerred to carry me to the bathroom to puke, but I couldn't move enough to get him to carry me. I was so miserable. We opted to be low key Saturday night so we just went over to Richard's house, one of Dave's friends. I didn't drink a drop of alcohol but managed to laugh my ass off pretty much the entire night. Those guys have some ridiculously HA-larious stories to share. At one point, we went to see something on the computer in Richard's little office area. Well, unknownst to us, we also stumbled upon Booh-Bahs. Yes, Booh-Bahs. For those of you unfortunate enough to have never experienced a Booh-Bah, let me bring you up to speed -- they are these little furry creatures, similar to Tellatubbies, that are fat, covered with forehead warts, and have the creepiest buldging eyes any stuffed animal has ever possessed. They also sing and dance for you. They say "booooooo baaaaahhhhh," pause momentarily, and then play this catchy little tune and kinda rotate poking out their asses and bellies. We put two of the demented monsters face-to-face and forced them to dance together. I have to say that I have never been so amused by a children's toy as I was that night. We repeated this act many more times. That is, until we found the doll manufactured by Satan himself. I mean, we're talking Exorcist shit here. Okay, you know how you used to butcher your sister's Barbie doll's hair when you were little? Well, that's the hair that this doll had. It also had only one winky eye that resembled more of a lazy eye than a wink, really. And lastly, the little son of a bitch would cackle and stick it's horridly long tongue out at you when you squeezed its stomach. Ewwww, creepy. What kid in it's right mind would want to play with that shit?! Richard said he found the bastard at some little backwoods antique-type shop up in the mountains of North Carolina... good to know that is exactly where Dave is from. Yay, my boyfriend's hometown is also the hometown of the little shop of horrors. Seriously, I would be scared to sleep at night with that thing in the house... you'd wake up to find that little shit staring at you with a knife in it's hand doing it's demonic little cackle with its ugly lazy winky eye and too long pointy tongue. Ugh. So our Saturday night consisted of incriminating stories, Booh-Bahs and Satan.
So the trip to Charleston wasnt't the best one, given the worst hangover ever, but it was good and I had fun. And I also now want a Booh-Bah. No more Mind Erasers, though. Ever. Gah.

Sit On Your Hands and Shut Up

Friday the 6th of January, we went downtown to celebrate being back in Clemson. We (me, Erin, Kim, Joe, Corey) ended up meeting Wiggins, Jabba and Chew somewhere along the way so we had quite a gathering of drunks. Erin and I sang the Hippopatamus song to Wiggins... reallly loudly in Tiger Town, while standing up... we also took a lot of shots to celebrate the free pour that we now have. We later decided we want our mini bottles back because we get drunker with them. Whatever.
We left downtown and got Corey to drive Erin's car. We put Wiggins in the trunk because he is the most out of control and because we ran out of room in the back seat. Well, we are all screaming and carrying on when we see blue lights behind us all of a sudden. SHIT. Everyone goes into panic mode and starts flailing about trying to fumble for seatbelts. Wiggins, all the while, is in the back with Erin's first aid kit saying that he swears there are emergency tampons back there if any of us need them. Becauce tampons will help us... So we pull over in the sketch ass parking lot of this car fixing place and the cop starts coming toward us. Everyone is "ssssshhhhing" everyone else and we are trying to be quiet and calm. As Corey is rolling down the window and just before our cop lady gets to him, Wiggins bursts out, "I've seen her titties!!!" Do you know how impossible it was to not laugh at that very moment? So, the cop gets to the window, gets all of Corey's info and shit, and goes back around the car. We are all trying to be quiet, but we are engaged in the "drunk whisper," you know, where you think you are being quiet but you are actually being louder than your normal volume? So we are yelling at Wiggins because Wiggins keep talking about emergency tampons, which in actuality, there were no tampons anywhere in the first aid emergency kit. Joe requested a crowbar to beat Wiggins into silence... Erin told Wiggins to "just sit on your hands and shut up!" I just kept giggling and snorting and all of us pretty much thought we were going to jail. We also keep yelling/laughing/sshhing Wiggins for telling us how he had seen the cop's boobs. None of us believed him at all. We just thought he was being belligerent. Well, as it turned out, Wiggins did know the lady cop... She came back over, told Corey to just slow down, gave him a warning and asked, "is that P in the back?" Apparently Wiggins also goes by P... We all cracked the hell up. I laughed so hard I hurt. So thanks, Wiggins, for seeing cop boobies and getting us out of jail free.

Remembering the Water War of 2005

Last year, on about this very day in January, a war took place in 102 F. A Water War. Because it was one of the most hysterical nights of my life, I thought I should write a blog in remembrance of it (and post the incriminating pictures). I just happened to be looking through some of my old pictures when I stumbled upon the night of the water war and I laughed. Out loud. For a really long time. And then I had to call Dave and remind him of just how funny it was. As you may recall, Dave, Joe, Megan and myself all threw pots (or cups, in my case, because I was too dumb to upgrade my cup to a gallon sized pot instead) of water on each other for hours on end one night in the boys' apartment. We only paused momentarily once when my foot started bleeding and Dave had to doctor me, and a second time when I punched through Joe's window screen and made the boys scream so loudly and girlishly that we all couldn't move because we were laughing so hard. The apartment was kinda mildewy for a few weeks, there were broken shot glasses in the garbage disposal for a couple days, Joe's screen is still broken, but he moved out of that room so it doesn't matter now, and we still get a good laugh when we look back on that ridiculous event. And personally, I wouldn't mind a little rematch one of these days... man, I love you guys. Also, I encourage all of you to click right about here and reread the original post for Night of the Water War.