Once carried through the current,
and being swept away,
the king is in the bathroom,
he’s vomiting all day.

- Kansas, “Closet Chronicles” (Modified)

We’ve all been there. You have one too many shots of well bourbon or fluorescent blue drinks and suddenly you’re on the bathroom floor, the contents of your stomach forming an interactive modern art piece around the room. On my meteoric rise to alcoholism I had some disturbing developments relating to puking. My spewing increased in violence and destruction to those around me each time it occurred; I eventually came to fear that my vomit would take out an entire city block. This is the progression of those fun times. Read more

All American’s propensity for embarrassing behavior began almost a year before his Elephant Penis incident. After (and often during) our last period computer class, I, All American, Truck, and one of All American’s friends would regularly play multiplayer sessions of Return to Castle Wolfenstein. Since Truck and I were both pretty damn good, we would usually split up and be on different teams in the interest of balance. However, a few times we teamed up to lay waste to everyone and everything, and for reasons unknown to me this caused All American to suffer a meltdown.

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Friendship is a difficult thing to precisely define. Some say it is sticking by someone through thick and thin. Others define it as a special bond. Well, I can safely say all these people are idiots. True friendship is holding your friend while he pisses and vomits all over your $40 shirt.

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I made very few friends in highschool. By and large, I was content to sit by myself on one of the building’s porches listening to Black Sabbath and reading some hideously complex philosophy book (yes, there was a time when I thought that shit made you smart and unique…shut up) and glaring at everyone walking by. However, my junior year, I met someone nearly as hateful, cynical, and fucked up as myself: The South African Suicide King. Read more

In 2004 I embarked on a journey that may very well have changed the course of my life forever. Well, not the journey itself, but the effects of the journey could have had far reaching consequences. I owe this remarkable experience to my good friend Weezer, who I am amazed I didn’t kill for talking me into this madness. This experience shall henceforth be referred to as the the Tampa “Hemo” concert, not only because it is an truncation of, “Hardcore/Emo” but also because it evokes linguistic images of the word “homo” which I find delightful and amusing on a personal level.

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Anyone who has gone to highschool in recent years is probably familiar with the insidious activity of “Academic Team,” or in certain, lamer circles, “Brain Bowl.” Basically, it consists of two four-man teams wherein a question reader reads questions. Each person has a buzzer, and when they know the answer, they buzz in and scream it out to prove their intellectual superiority over their nerd brethren. I remember I first got involved in Academic Team as a means of working off “penalty hours” at my school, probably for something utterly retarded like, “refusing to shave” or, “disrespectful conduct towards other students.” Whatever. I attended the little practice session, and I was oddly intrigued. It was therein that I met three seniors who would become my unofficial mentors in the ways of life for the remainder of the year (about 3 or 4 months). At the start of the next school year, we were informed that joining a club was mandatory. It was either A-team or some sort of gay shit like “math club” or “key club,” so I was solidly down with the A-team. What I didn’t realize at first was that there were hundreds of A-teams across the nation, and we would routinely gather to go on trips to compete against them. This introduced me to a world of such profoundly damaged individuals that I’m almost afraid to put it down in text.

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My friends are not known for their skill with the ladies; if anything, they are the antithesis of smooth. They can’t think of anything to say, say stupid things, or, even worse, allow other guys to come up and steal the spotlight. There is no better example of this than the Elephant Penis Pick Up line delivered by one of my closest friends all throughout high school, who I will dub All American. Read more