Well, on the night of columbus’ arrival in the united states of pillage-the-native- America, in the august year of 2005, a party was had.
and we were had, and hupd was had, and never was evered, and etc and etc, a camera card was lost, a camera was found, a keg was not kicked, but it had many feet on it, and if that cop had to come back a third time, ’somebody’s going to jail!’ (i vote evan. imean, he’s already on the list.)
SO, to commemorate that fine occasion of debauch and ery, appropriate use of lowell-open, the virtues of saturday night emails, the virtues of saturday night vs sunday night, the virtues and lack thereof of your mom, etcetera, here’s the score:
that guy who spilled chips on the floor that we walked on for a week: 0
the vacuum that we got two weeks ago to clean up for the party a month ago: 1
the keg: 1/2.
the dining hall ice machine: 0
the handle pf saphire: dead and recycled already.
the handle of jose cuervo, mi amigo mejor: circa 600mL.
the *handle* of triple sec: still going strong
long island: drunk, completely drunk.
your mom: also, drunk, completely drunk.
the smirnoff: one down, another one almost down. just needs another case of the sundays and it’ll be out like the fat kid in dodgeball.
the cookies: so gone i almost forgot them.
jeff’s family table: survived but don’t tell him about the fifth leg. he hasn’t noticed yet.
and the pictures? well, since my bed was *not* in fact dribbled on, they’re up!!! (hear that beth? they’re up!!) www.johnnoss.com/bowchickawowwow. But woe to you who again threatens my bed and the alley between 10 and 20 dewolfe…
thats all folks! stay tuned, we’ll be right back after this break–