FRIDAY PREGAME with a side of BOWS AND TOES!
Howdy, chums and chumettes, and welcome back to the Kingdom!
As I prepare to put the kibosh and another week of lawyering and studenting, I find myself perplexed at what exactly to do with my weekend. Shall I clean the bathroom, as I've wanted to all week? Should I blow my new paycheck on a new shirt/tie combo for Jon and Jackie's wedding, which is ever-so-quickly approaching? Or should I just party like it's 1999? Oh the trials and tribulations of an unattached retired fratguy... woe is me.
Anywho, I happened to miss, due to no design of my own, the Presidential debate last night, though I'm infinitely interested in what you, an educated mass of friends with varying political beliefs thought-- so post on up now! As for last night, I'd like to give props to AliMac for an evening of fun and excitement. Hooray! AliMac!
Moving right along, I'm going to tell a quick story of my frat days because... well.., because I've positively busted my hump here at work today, and don't feel like doing anything work-related during the last half-hour of the week.
So, let's talk pledging.
It was sometime mid-way through the semester, and Kupper was slowly but surely losing his mind. We had had a particualrly rough week as a class, and the brothers had done a positively STELLAR job of convincing us we were the proverbial "Dead Men Walking" when it came to.. umm.. the written exam we had to take on brotherhood history. Yeah, that's it.. the voluntary written exam we took in order to prove we had made it past the halfway point of the pledging process.
Okay, enough rhetoric. The forecast that night was decidedly, "Hazy" and the overcast conditions in the basement had us all a little on edge as we paitiently awaited for the brothers to join us. The problem is, people deal with being "on edge" in plenty of differnt ways. Jerry, for instance, becomes a sardonic prick. Kurt rolls in garbage. Chewy drinks. Buff grazes or something. Me, I use humour as a defense mechanism. And Kup? Kup gets angry. Meaty. Intensity in ten cities, live at the Budicon. Pure and utter.
Lucky for me, we used to line up alphabetically, and "Knor" and "Kupchella" are pret-ty close. So we're lined up, life is tense and Kup's starting to freak out. He's on edge, and he's steaming. And I decide it'd be a REALLY great idea to make him laugh, you know, lighten up the mood. It's what I do-- If I'm ever nervous, look for me to do one of three things:
1) if i'm wearing a ballcap, i'll keep spinning it around my head, totally unable to decide between "frontwards" and "backwards"
2) i'll chew my nails
3) i'll make really especially super-deluxe cheesy jokes, the kind i can remember from the 3d grade.
So I'm standing there, and I decide that it's time to rap. Yes. Me, the quintessential white guy to end all white guys, figures "hey! I'll make him laugh, i'll beatbox!" So I start using my zipper to make the "whicky-whicky" sound that it does when you open and close it really fast (go ahead, try it... i'll wait.) I'm fooling around, making noise, and we're supposed to be "GASP! quiet" as we wait for the bros to come downstairs.
Thus, what was meant to lighten the mood has now instead begun to infuriate the roommate.
Kup: stop it..
Knor: why? i'm just playing..
Kup: STOP it..
Knor: wh--
BAM!
It was just then that Adam Boyce Kupchelitis, the Butch Cassiday to my SunDance Kid, the Billy Gunn to my Jesse Jammes, punched me in the gut!!! As I nearly collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath with the wind knocked out of me, I looked up and down the line to see my 7 pledge brothers laughing their asses off! Thanks guys. Thanks a lot. My feelings summarily hurt (and i know i just used 'summarily' incorrectly, but it felt right), I tried to storm off the line and head home in disgust, but was pulled back by my friends with enough time for me to barely regain my composure before the brothers arrived.
At least I accomplished my goal of lightening the atmosphere, I just didn't know it would hurt so much. Needless to say, I no longer EVER try to calm Kup down when he's nervous, pissy, or a combination of the two. Well, except for that time with the BB Gun... but that's a story for another time.
Alright folks, try not to miss me over the weekend-- GO STATE and GO STILLERS! talk to yinz soon!
-apk
As I prepare to put the kibosh and another week of lawyering and studenting, I find myself perplexed at what exactly to do with my weekend. Shall I clean the bathroom, as I've wanted to all week? Should I blow my new paycheck on a new shirt/tie combo for Jon and Jackie's wedding, which is ever-so-quickly approaching? Or should I just party like it's 1999? Oh the trials and tribulations of an unattached retired fratguy... woe is me.
Anywho, I happened to miss, due to no design of my own, the Presidential debate last night, though I'm infinitely interested in what you, an educated mass of friends with varying political beliefs thought-- so post on up now! As for last night, I'd like to give props to AliMac for an evening of fun and excitement. Hooray! AliMac!
Moving right along, I'm going to tell a quick story of my frat days because... well.., because I've positively busted my hump here at work today, and don't feel like doing anything work-related during the last half-hour of the week.
So, let's talk pledging.
It was sometime mid-way through the semester, and Kupper was slowly but surely losing his mind. We had had a particualrly rough week as a class, and the brothers had done a positively STELLAR job of convincing us we were the proverbial "Dead Men Walking" when it came to.. umm.. the written exam we had to take on brotherhood history. Yeah, that's it.. the voluntary written exam we took in order to prove we had made it past the halfway point of the pledging process.
Okay, enough rhetoric. The forecast that night was decidedly, "Hazy" and the overcast conditions in the basement had us all a little on edge as we paitiently awaited for the brothers to join us. The problem is, people deal with being "on edge" in plenty of differnt ways. Jerry, for instance, becomes a sardonic prick. Kurt rolls in garbage. Chewy drinks. Buff grazes or something. Me, I use humour as a defense mechanism. And Kup? Kup gets angry. Meaty. Intensity in ten cities, live at the Budicon. Pure and utter.
Lucky for me, we used to line up alphabetically, and "Knor" and "Kupchella" are pret-ty close. So we're lined up, life is tense and Kup's starting to freak out. He's on edge, and he's steaming. And I decide it'd be a REALLY great idea to make him laugh, you know, lighten up the mood. It's what I do-- If I'm ever nervous, look for me to do one of three things:
1) if i'm wearing a ballcap, i'll keep spinning it around my head, totally unable to decide between "frontwards" and "backwards"
2) i'll chew my nails
3) i'll make really especially super-deluxe cheesy jokes, the kind i can remember from the 3d grade.
So I'm standing there, and I decide that it's time to rap. Yes. Me, the quintessential white guy to end all white guys, figures "hey! I'll make him laugh, i'll beatbox!" So I start using my zipper to make the "whicky-whicky" sound that it does when you open and close it really fast (go ahead, try it... i'll wait.) I'm fooling around, making noise, and we're supposed to be "GASP! quiet" as we wait for the bros to come downstairs.
Thus, what was meant to lighten the mood has now instead begun to infuriate the roommate.
Kup: stop it..
Knor: why? i'm just playing..
Kup: STOP it..
Knor: wh--
BAM!
It was just then that Adam Boyce Kupchelitis, the Butch Cassiday to my SunDance Kid, the Billy Gunn to my Jesse Jammes, punched me in the gut!!! As I nearly collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath with the wind knocked out of me, I looked up and down the line to see my 7 pledge brothers laughing their asses off! Thanks guys. Thanks a lot. My feelings summarily hurt (and i know i just used 'summarily' incorrectly, but it felt right), I tried to storm off the line and head home in disgust, but was pulled back by my friends with enough time for me to barely regain my composure before the brothers arrived.
At least I accomplished my goal of lightening the atmosphere, I just didn't know it would hurt so much. Needless to say, I no longer EVER try to calm Kup down when he's nervous, pissy, or a combination of the two. Well, except for that time with the BB Gun... but that's a story for another time.
Alright folks, try not to miss me over the weekend-- GO STATE and GO STILLERS! talk to yinz soon!
-apk
3 Comments:
hi adam,
who is Alimac and why does he or she get props? I think I should get props. I am also fun and exciting.
~cox.net
By
Anonymous, at 8:18 PM, October 01, 2004
Well, Cox.net, I can't give you props if i don't know anything about you. How are you fun and exciting? WHO are you? Where do you hail from?
-apk
By
apk, at 8:30 PM, October 01, 2004
That's what I'm talking about. Superb story. And it further propagates the notion that Kup, despite his best efforts, can't help being a prick. Pledging just brings out the best in people. Happy belated b-day Kup!!!
- Gramps
By
Anonymous, at 10:22 AM, October 04, 2004
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