Stink is one of those friends that you have to honestly thank for the simple fact that I probably would be in a government position/doctor/millionaire if I never met him. I regret nothing. I met Stink around sixteen when we pulled an all-nighter full of Red Dog, Whataburger, and drunk driving. A mutual friendship. After that night we all sort of joined forces to become the circle we are today. These short stories are dedicated to the times we made memories that are still blurry to this day
Mannford Birthday
Stink celebrated his birthday at his sister’s trailer in Mannford, Oklahoma. We arrived late that afternoon in February for excessive celebrations, bonfires, and a hope of hooking up with some of the girls. Stinks sister was dating a guy named “Dizzy”. Upon learning the “name” I was scared. The same anticipation one might have when being introduced to people named “ice-pick”, “glass eye” or “Sodom”. I was obviously right. A countrified unintelligent excuse for trash, within 5 minutes of meeting him he told us how he recently had his finger torn off by a rope. Sounds pretty gross right? No. What’s gross is he led us into the kitchen and showed off his finger he saved in a sandwich bag stored in the freezer. After I attempted to repress that memory (which obviously is scarred into my retina) we began drinking. Hard. We all sat around the fire and “Dizzy” rambled on his nonsense while I played along for fear that if I didn’t listen I’d be walking funny the next morning. The most memorable part of the whole event? It was when Stinks sister made him a huge pink birthday cake. Unfortunately, she presented it when we were all whiskey drunk and drooling on ourselves. My last memory was watching people digging their hands into this wrecked cake and smearing it around their face in an attempt to maybe get some of the treat in their mouths. When I woke up the next morning and stepped outside, I noted all the places everyone threw up from the night before. It was marked by the 20+ pink puke mounds scattered about the yard.
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I just get so excited with the revelations that transpire regarding this family.
So here’s where we begin. Lynne Spears, mother of Britney and Jamie Lynn has finished her recent literature on helpful parenting. book
This is wonderful. As you know, Britney is well… yeah.
http://freebiesblog.net/media/celebs/britney/britney_baby04.jpg
The only hope for the family to save the Spears name rest on the shoulders of 16 year old Jamie. I’m NOT going to badmouth her (unlike her sibling Britney) but seriously? The LAST thing this family needed was an unplanned teenage pregnancy… Read more
The summer I had lived at Gerbils duplex we had our first defining moment in our still young friendship that was the blueprints for the skyscraper it is now today.
The night began as usual for a college freshman and his older friends. Pre-partying at Gerbils and making phone calls for the evening. It was early spring semester 2003 and I wanted what every 18 year old freshman wanted, alcohol and girls. I talked to this girl I new from high school and we planned on going to her apartment and partying for a while. Little did I know this was building to be one of the scariest/funniest moments in my young life.
Upon arriving, Gerbil and I saw the girls had a full bottle of liquid regret (pronounced: tequila). We all sat around and took shots and laughed. I believe weeks prior I had learned what the “man shot” was, and everyone was daring one another to do it. If you don’t know what a man shot is; it’s when you snort the line of salt, slam the shot, and then squeeze the lime in your eye. Terribly and idiotically painful, but when someone else does it, you can’t help but pop a blood vessel laughing uncontrollably. This evening was undoubtedly turning into a great night. About 11 p.m. Gerbil and I determined it was time to go home, get a bite to eat, then head out elsewhere. I had asked the girl whose apartment is was to give me a quick tour of the apartment. She obliged and began showing me around. Now I’ve had some unsuspecting moments in my life but when we reached the hall, she pushed me against the wall and jumped on me. If you had seen how gorgeous she was, you’d be jealous as hell. I promise. I lucked out, thank you tequila; you have yet to do me wrong…
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I am solely using fraternal nicknames for this one.
Once, in a time long ago, something like, oh… February 22nd 2003 to be exact I met what will now be known as the CRAZIEST group of college kids the U.S. could ever brew up. These kids disgusted me with the amount of alcohol they could drink. And they all called Rolla, Missouri home. Rolla, MO, a town that shuts down and has something like a 3 day St. Patty’s day festival. THE TOWN STOPS FUNCTIONING ALL TOGETHER! Imagine that.
My fraternity has its typical scholars, athletes, public servants, etc. But there was a group of us that took “fun hunting” a little too far, but nonetheless always had something exciting to talk about on Mondays. We have (nationally) this traveling trophy that’s main purpose is to get chapters to road trip to other chapters in order to extend relations, and develop friendships all over the U.S. Upon staying with the hosting chapter overnight, your chapter takes the road trip trophy back home and another chapter gets to come get it from you. Pretty fun sounding idea right?
Our group had decided to travel from Tahlequah to Rolla, Missouri at the University of Missouri-Rolla engineering school. This engineering school is quite prestigious, so we instantly assumed we were gonna be staying at some lame chapter full of tools (yeah we were judgmental, that’s what we get for assuming). The trip was calculated at somewhere around 4 and a half hours. There were 8 of us, crammed into a conversion van; not to mention 4 of us were up in Tulsa all night for one of the guy’s birthday. Very vague night, I didn’t really drink too much because I was driving the birthday guys car back to Tahlequah that night, I do recall how cold it was with the window down on the Muskogee turnpike at 2 A.M. with him puking out the window. Classy group of lads weren’t we.
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