Best. Tailgate. Ever.

This weekend was Homecoming for those Clemson Tigers. That's a good enough reason to get waaaasted if you ask any of us. We partied our asses off from 11 pm Friday until aprroximately 3 am Sunday morning. Friday night was the normal drunk scene at the 102. Only this time, we had Catherine with us! Yessss. I came bearing gifts, too. I brought Catherine a bottle of Jack as a late birthday present and I also brought Joe a Halloween card. Please let me tell you about this card. Okay, I was in Target, and I see this black and white card with skulls and crossbones all over it -- and they are very real looking. It's all creepy and shit, so I picked it up, assuming there would be something catchy about how you should have a bad to the bone Halloween or something of the sort. No, Not even fucking close. I open it up to find this printed inside: Always follow your heart." WTF. I cracked up in the middle of Target all by myself and immediately ran to the register to purchase the most ridiculous greeting card ever made. Its now slapped onto the fridge at Joe's apartment and will most likey never come off. Seriously, what the fuck does that mean. The only other unusal thing that happened was that there was a dance party... with all the guys. Really, Joe, Michael, Dave and Shawn all danced. The girls just sat there. It was really funny and as soon as Joe sends me the pictures, I'm going to post them and blackmail the piss out of all of you. Yay, can't wait.
So we woke up and were at the tailgate by 10:30. Beers cracked by 10:31. Woot. This time we did it right: we brought the motherfucking couch. Oh yes. The grungy ass, disease-ridden ,lame excuse for a seating unit, used to be white but is now a dirty tan color couch from the 102 F. And we stuck it right in between the jeep and the truck. Genius. Effing genius. It did however turn into quite the accident causer when both Jayson and Opie did back flip-like maneuvers over it and tried to land gracefully, but usually just ended up on their asses over in the woods.
So as soon as everything was unpacked, funny shit started happening, so Joe threw a pen a pad of paper at me and said "go" So I compiled a list, appropriately entitled "Funny Shit" as the day progressed. It turned out to be one and a half pages long. I will now write everything that was written on the "Funny Shit" list and attempt to give an explanation... Okay.go:

Candle: "It will go up your butt if you let it!" Explaining how the yellow jackets (not the team, but the actual creature) are infact, crazy ass mother fuckers and will attack you, at all costs, if presented with the opportunity.

Brandy: "I'm Brandy! Like the motherfucking drink." Because sometimes people think her name is Randy.

Nicole: "Is my tag sticking out?
Dave: "Everything's sticking out, baby." I asked if my underwear tag was visible... Dave informed me that yes, my tag, along with most of my entire ass/crack was also in plain view.

Nicole: "I want someone to find my blog and read it and then they will want to publish it."
Brandy: "What? You want someone to find your blog and then they will want to pop your shit?"

Catherine: "I'm fucking infallible. What am I, the pope?" She invented the 'Catherine Surprise,' which is when you shove a wad of cotton candy in your mouth, then allow her to drown you in champagne, then you swallow it all while trying not to gag or laugh or wretch. Yes, wretch. All the while, half her ass is about to fall out of her pants, she has Joe's enormous sunglasses on, and her hair, is well, everywhere.

Catherine: "Thank God, I bought fucking cotton candy."

Candle: "I don't even care, put your finger there!" Telling me how its okay if I shove my finger into her drink so it doesn't fizz over.

Joe: My thinking parts are mad at my drinking parts."

Joe: "Nic, where'd you go?"
Nicole: "I don't know. I'm invis.....dable." Yes, there was a dramatic pause before I finished the word. Incorrectly, at that.

Nicole: "Oh! We're playing spin the bottle?"
Candle: "No! I don't do that! I could get meningitis." All day, Candle thought she was going to get meningitis... from her cup, the pine needles, the champagne bottle that everyone was drooling all over, etc.

Joe: "Are you drunk or retarded?"

Brandy: "Jayson! I can see all of your cards!"
Jayson: "I don't know what that means, but I'll see you later." Jayson's credit cards, and every other imaginable were spilling out of the hole he created in his back pocket. Brandy tried to warn him. Jayson took this as innuendo.

Joe: "It smells like January and Valtrex." I refuse to explain this any further.

Joe: "Oh, we've all seen the Cononie Coin Slot..." Yes, that's my ass. for those of your who are dumb.

Nicole: "I need some water."
Dave: "Why don't you just drink that?"
Nicole: "No. That's too watered down." I wanted regular water. Dave offered me the remains of his coke from Hardees. It was too watered down. Damnit.

Jayson: "You know when you're sober and you can't see and you're just like, ' Cool, I can't see,' and you squint to fix it? Well yeah, you can't do that when you're drunk."

So, those are the Funny Shit quotes that I promised. I would now like to mention some more funny shit that happened that did not require words:

1. Candle played "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson and nominated herself to impersonate the Michael Jackson "spin-and-grab-your-crotch" move. She did this eight successful times. On the ninth try (why she tried any more than once is a mystery) she completely fell over backwards and busted her ass. Catherine came immediately to the rescue and shoved the champagne bottle at Candle's crotch. Candle latched onto the bottle and began thrusting again. All was saved.
Side note: Candle walked around most of the day with some object turned phallic in her crotch. She has come to terms with the fact that she has a serious case of penis envy and has chosen to celebrate this Candle-like feature.
2. The beer boxes were turned into sleds. Pretty much everyone except for me and Dave took a running, flying leap at the teeny piece of cardboard in front of them and barrelled down the little pine needle hill until the had to bail out when the hill turned into fucking pavement.
3. Catherine screwed up somehow and just laid on her back in the pine needles. We took this as an invitation to burry her in them. It was like burrying someone in sand, but instead with pine needles.
4. Candle got doo-doo on her knee. She attempted to brush it off. She now probably has meningitis.
5. A dance party happened at approximately 3:00 pm.
6. Joe had a phenominal idea. See, the couch is amazing, but seriously, its time for the bitch to die. It was decided that at the last tailgate of the year, we are simply going to regift the couch and stick it in the back of someone else's fucking truck. One of two reactions will occur, (a) they will be ecstatic that they have a newfound piece of tailgate furniture, (b) they will be so fucking pissed that some assholes put their piece of shit couch in the back of their awesome truck.
7. Joe explained that without Nic, he Nic and Joe show is just like Wayne and ___. Without Garth, it's just not Waynesworld.

So basically, this was the BEST.TAILGATE.EVER. Seriously, who brings a couch, concocts a drink that consists of cotton candy and champagne, turns beer boxes into sleds, does Michael Jackson skits, drinks 3 coolers of beer all in one day and actually lives to tell about? We are motherfucking rockstars. And we won, bitches.

PS: What song did we all agree to put on our pages so we can be gay together? I actually think I was too drunk at that point and since I didn't write it down, I can't produce a memory. Shit. You tell me. Now.

Beer Tickets

this weekend, dave and i went home to simpsonville. our main goal was to show dave downtown greenville so he could get a feel for the church and the hotel where we will be having the wedding/reception. it was also "fall for greenville" or ffg this weekend; which is basically this food festival in the streets of downtown where a bunch of fatties waddle around and stuff their faces. in order to partake in the obesity, you have to buy tickets that will then allow you to buy food and drinks. so gay. so you have to get in line to buy 8 tickets for $5. then you get in another line to buy a wristband for a dollar. then you get in more lines so you can use your tickets to "buy" things. whatever. so we bought like $15 worth of tickets saturday night so we could drink. we met corey and erin downtown to hang out with them -- they bought a wad of tickets too. well, no one told us that ffg was going to quit serving beer at 9:30. who does that? so we were pissed. i bought a huge vanilla jack in the box milkshake on the way home to make up for the calories i missed out on from the beer. gah.
so our genius idea was to just go back on sunday. which is exactly what we did. dave and i slept with our wristbands on in hopes of saving 2 bucks, but the bastards changed colors the next day. erin and corey met us again so they could use up the rest of their tickets too. sweet. so we ended up getting wasted in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of downtown on a freaking sunday. we, too, waddled around with our beers just like the rest of the fatties. but we waddled out of drunkness, not out of fattness. gah, seriously, you'd feel so good about yourself if you saw the people that come out of their homes for food festivals. like, holy crap, i looked like miss america compared to some. okay, that's mean, but i mean, seriously, here's some of the shit we saw:
fat girl in duck slippers
fat girl in hippie pajama pants
fat old lady with high side ponytai
fat black man with blinky sunglasses that induce seizures
fat girl(s) with those stupid cropped jean jackets
7 foot tall fat black man
and a lot of exposed skin that really shouldn't have been exposed
there was also an abundance of emo kids walking around. seriously, i just want to feed them a cheeseburger, brush the back of their hair and give them a hug. dave on the other hand, would rather just kick their asses. so, some scrawny emo dude comes sulking by us and dave's like "gahhhh, i'm so eeeeemmmmoooo" in this bitchy, whiny voice. the guy turns around, all 86 pounds of him, and just stares at dave. dave was like "awww, don't get so bent out of shape, you can go cry about it later, don't worry." i had to laugh. so do you. emo is funny. i don't care who you are, even if you're emo, you know you're laughable.
so, we continued to use our beer tickets. dave was so smart that he even divided them into clusters of 4 because that was what a beer cost: 4 tickets. not $2.50, but 4 tickets. at some point, we only had like 3 tickets and dave really wanted to go ask if he could have 3/4 of a cup.
then we had this genius idea to just go to wild wings and drink beer there. it was cheaper, and there was cheaper food... and more of it. so we went there and drank our asses off some more. erin ended up with this fruity yellow pitcher of goodness that she downed herself. i was proud. so then we finally used up our last tickets, but not until after we went to see if we could ride the swings. unfortunately... well, actually, maybe it was fortunate, that the swings were only for little fatty kiddies. no adults, emo kids or obese moms allowed. so then we thought about stealing the big ass jager banner that was hanging up near the kiddie swings. we had no good way of removing it or hiding it once we would have stolen it, so we had to leave it. damn.
then we drank or last round of beers while sitting on a curb making fun of all the people that we made fun of for the past two days. getting drunk on sundays is cool.

Chocolate Shots of Death

last night we celebrated catherine's belated birthday. first we went to the mustard seed in mt. p with a group of her friends for some dinner and drinks. well, actually dave and i went for a bottle of wine. we were drunk by 9:00. we're lushes. and honestly, i'm still drunk. and its noon. i'm "working from home" today. so is dave. poor catherine. she's working at work.
okay after the mustard place. catherine, dave and i went to gene's. her friend charlie joined us, but he only made it through one jager bomb and one pumkin pie tasting beer before he peaced out on us. us three, however, closed the place down and made friends with bartender miranda. the curly haired one. you know, well, you probably don't. sorry, im drunk.
i came home with three receipts worth of funny shit. so here come the stories...
okay really, we started ordering shots like they were providing us with life. like, if we didnt drink them, we would die, when in actuality, because we drank so many, we might all die today. we really have to remember to chose life... well, catherine ordered the "chocolate cake" shot. eww. it actually does taste like chocolate cake, but i have issues with clearish shots (eww, i might not be able to write this blog right now because typing "shot" makes my stomach flop around a little.... time out)

okay, time in. well, the chocolate shot arrived and dave was like, "is this going to hurt my tooth?" see, dave has this tooth, a sweet tooth if you will, that makes him unable to eat anything chocolate because it hurts. sometimes i wish i had this tooth because i would be like 40 pounds skinnier... whatever. so he asked if it would hurt his tooth and my response is "no. it's going to hurt your world." i wasn't lying.
catherine got her pen out at this point and started to try to write on the table. well, instead of ink... it just kind of carved instead, so she went with that. now half of all of our names are on the table in genes. her logic was that if she only wrote half our names, no one would know it was us. i blame the chocolate shot for this logic. well catherine is carving and dave threw his knife onto the table...
dave: that's all i do at work!
both cather (as she so carved her name) and i both said at the same time: carve?
dave: no. i'm in a knife club.
the conversation continued. the shots continued as well. we had some royal flushes and bomby bombs and more vodka/waters, vodka/tonics and jack/cokes... and i guess we were talking about how dave might have to travel for work. this conversation happened:
dave: i might have to be in japan.
nic: ohhh??
dave: yeah. i told you about okanawa.
nic: okanawa is in japan? ... i thought it was like, in missouri...
catherine: okanawa, missouri.
all the while, keep in mind that we are shoved into this teeny booth back in the corner where miranda would sporadically appear with more drinkies. she came back with a fresh round and i started squeezing my lime so my vodka would taste like lime vodka instead of regular vodka and i completely squirted catherine in the eye. i know because she said "you just hit me in the eye!" i said, "oh noo!!" but catherine then told me, "no! i liked it." so it was okay that i hit her with acidic juice in her pretty little eye because she loves me.
between the three of us, we racked up a $133 tab. god we were drunk. we decided to walk back to catherine's house. its right behind gene's... i turned into a flippin thief. maybe i shouldn't tell this part of the story... oh who cares. so we're walking down the road and i yank this tiki torch-like candle pole out of some store's potted plant. then i sprinted while screaming, "uh oh! i hope i'm not on video!" i then came across a sign that said "vote for someone" in another potted plant. or perhaps a yard. i took that too. then i took a road cone. but then i traded it for a prettier road cone. i left all three objects next to catherine's door. um, happy birthday? we ate some cool-pops or icy pops or freezy pops or whatever the fuck pops you want to call them. and we just continued to laugh and be drunk and look at myspace and tell each other how much we love the other one. dave continued sharing his funny ass stories from high school that consist of how people got pooped on... he actually told that story because i think catherine said something like "i got spit on" and we heard "i got shit on" so then dave told the story of how a lot of his friends actually did get shit on at the same time by this guy in high school. eww. thats gross, im not tellng anymore of that. ask dave for details if you want them, what the hell was i talking about before this? damnit now i have to go reread what i wrote. oh yeah, cool-pops. they wer delicious. then we all walked back to gene's to get our cars. what the fuck, i know. why we didnt just take them in the first place is beyond me too. oh, before we left cather's house, haha, cather... i tried to stick the tiki pole into her yard. well, i failed to notice that the top part had this ceramic frog like fixture attached to it and so when i slammed it into the solid earth below, the fucking frog split in half and inevitably split my hand skin in half too. now i have this freaking cut across my hand. for a minute i thought i needed a hospital. im gay. the cut is less than a tucker scratch. and i probably deserve it for stealing the ceramic tiki frog pole anyway.
catherine told me that she tried to go to mcdonalds but even though they are open 24 hours, they were closed. fucking liars. but a number 10 is chicken and 11 is fish. thanks, catherine. told you so, dave! ha.
dave and i passed the fuck out. and apparently i took off all my clothes in a corner. i dont know why i stood in the corner, but i did. we woke up drunk as shit. seriously, catherine, i'm so sorry you had to work today.
that's disgusting. i was silly morning drunk and started clapping my feet.
nic: have you ever clapped your feet like a seal? (proceeded to make seal-barking noises)
dave: seals dont have feet!! gah! and then he rolled over on the floor and grunted at me. yeah, he just laid on the floor for like 2 hours this morning. mostly because i was diagonally across the bed and tucker kept attacking my toes so he was probably safer down there. then i tried to sit up, but i had to lay back down because i was too dizzy. nic: ooooh! i feel like a weeble wobble! don't you feel like a weeble wobble??
dave: i feel like crap.
nic: weebles wobble but they dont fall down!
now we are both laying on the living room floor reeking of vodka and death. i fucking love you dave and catherine. i love you too gene's. and vodka. and cool-pops. i fucking love cool-pops. the end.

Volcano Face

okay seriously, what the hell. okay, i get sucked into info-mercials, like, a lot. and one day or night, i don't remember and it's irrelevant anyway, i made dave watch the pro-active commercial with me. you know, you see all the ugly zitty people first then you see how beautifully they have transformed. whatever. so we decided we want to use it. no, i don't have bad skin and neither does he, we're just dumb and like to spend our money.
so during our $202 shopping spree at walmart the other night, dave picked up the loreal equivalent of pro-active. and we began to use it. well, i guess i didn't really read the warnings or ask dave what was going to happen, but ohmygod, i look like a 14 year old boy going through puberty! ugh. okay, maybe not that bad, but my face did explode a little. and that has never happened in my life. like, maybe once a month i might get a bump on my chin or forehead, but that's all. so having like 5 at once is just ungodly to me.
well, ha, it took me like 20 minutes to do make-up this morning so i could cover up my disasters... and there is this one mean one in particular. you know you've all had it too. its the one right under your nose. well, mine is so monstrous that my lip has actually swollen and now when i smile, well, my smile is crooked. i cannot make kissy lips because it hurts my zit. i cannot talk properly because it hurts my zit. i couldn't even brush my teeth normally. wtf. seriously. i'm so pissed. remind me to start saving my money and to not fuck with things that are not broken. like my face. gaaahh.

Let's Stand on Furniture & Drink

This past weekend Dave and I traveled (one hellacious journey, at that) to Clemson to see our favorites. We figured we could make a mini-engagement party out of it. Driving was a bitch. Seriously, why can't people get out of the passing lane when they are not passing? And why would you get into the passing lane when you can obviously see a truck coming at you doing about 90? Idiots. So needless to say, we were pissed by the time we got to the 102. It immediately got better, though -- like really, before we could park, Shawn was hugging Dave through the window and Erin was pretty much in my lap. Joe and Michael were screaming from the balcony. And I think Candle had her drink up in the air "woooing" at us. Damn, we have awesome friends.
So we proceed to drink some Evan and Cheerwine. Yes, it is actually a delicious combination. Who knew? Well, I guess Joe did since he made all of my drinkies for me. I think we were all drunker than we thought because the following things occurred, and I'm not certain of the order of the debachery:

1. Joe and I stood on the furniture and sang/screamed Toxic. We tried to pretend like we were at Karaoke Tuesday. Not quite the same. But at least it was the Nic and Joe show and not the __ and Joe show... as Joe put it when he attempted to perform without me one disasterous Tuesday night. Aww. I miss Ed Miller.
2. Someone decided that throwing poker chips into the ceiling fan was the best idea, like ever. So we started with the poker chips. Then we added a deck of cards. Then Joe's shoe. And then the tailgate chairs. Most everyone got something lobbed at their face. Thankfully we were all slightly numb from the "alcool" (as the Engrish ppt show depicted. I think only Joe and Catherine will understand that... but it's still funny and I'm not taking it out.)
3. Joe then thought it would be awesome to use his tongue, yes tongue, to stop the dusty ass fan blades. Apparently Joe's nose is longer than his tongue, though, because it was his nose that stopped the fan instead. Really, Joe, what the fuck were you thinking? I mean, it was funny as hell, so you do what you want.
4. Michael and I busted out the Cononie Shake. It was glorious.
5. Dave and I busted out the "River Runs Through It" dance. We need a better name for it... any suggestions? Jayson told us the next day that sometimes he's not sure if he should watch when we do that.
6. Joe gave Corey a shoe wedgy. And was eerily proud of this.
7. Michael, Joe and I ate cheese with some eggs and sausage underneath it. Best drunk breakfast ever. And sorry Dave, for using your head as my table... I guess you shouldn't fall asleep in my lap right before feeding time.
8. I had a back popping session with Shawn the chiropractor. I can stand up straight again. Thanks, Shawn.

More funny stuff probably happened. But I got drunk. It happens.
We tailgated all day Saturday. We were in Ingles at like 10:15 buying loads of beer and hamburgers. It was pretty. Not pretty funny. Just pretty. We brought a TV and Candle made a bomb ass playlist for us to rock out to all day. And we also brought the freakin Nintendo. Hell. Yes. For whatever reason though, my stomach decided to hate me, therefore causing me sobriety for the entire day. Boo. Dave had to stay sober too because he had to go the library because some doof he works with like completely crashed the entire system and Dave had to come to the rescue. Yay, Dave.
We basically just ate food and took pictures all day. Joe, Michael, Dave and myself decided to skip the game and play Mario instead. It was fabulous.
So yay for a good weekend with good friends and good times. I really miss Erin and Joe. Like whoa. But I guess I will settle for fabulous weekends if I must. Love you people. Oh yeah, and go Tigers! Way to kick some stupid LA Tech ass.

On a complete side note -- I apoligize for my use of capitalization. I have a job now that requires correct grammar... well, actually, they might not care, but I don't want to look like an idiot. So now I use the shift key again. Damn.

You've Been Online for How Long?

Okay, so I have gaim, the cooler version of aim, not really, it's just what Dave put on my computer. I like it. Whatever. Well, gaim lets you scroll over your buddy's names and it gives you info like what your away message is and how long you've been online and if you're idle. Woo. Well, I was mindlessly scrolling, and I stopped on Erin's name. This is what it said: Logged in: 49709 days, 14 hours and 9 minutes. What? So I sent her an IM that said this: I just clicked on your name and it said you've been logged in for 49709 days, 14 hours and 9 minutes. Have you even been alive that long? Seriously, is that even possible? I think gaim hiccuped and forgot how to calculate time.