While it may be a "party-foul" to punch a rugby team mate in the face, it is even worse to testify in court against a fellow team mate and send them to jail for assault. No matter how big a bully your number eight is, he is a very good for the team on Saturdays. If you happen to catch his wrath later on at the party, maybe it's something about your behavior? Maybe you shouldn't have worn that dress? Asshole psychology is not that hard a science to figure out. Oscar Wilde said Saturdays were his favorite days of all "because all of the bullies were in the park."
Being called as a witness by the college town police force was a great moment in jurisprudence. Under oath we testified to "boisterous behavior" common to most Saturday nights after a rugby game. I testified that I saw the cops pull up on the curb like "Hawaii Five-0". Hawaii 5-0 was a catchy dance floor number popularized by Chino, the proprietor, dance inventor, renaissance man. We told the judge and didn't see anything except a usual Saturday night at the Basin Street Hotel. The cops were after our eight man. He had a long history with them and they thought they finally had their man. The person filing charges was my finest drinking partner in history. when we figured out that kegs were easily fit in my army duffel and then through his first floor dorm window. We had a room mate situation to deal with. I was not always the best room mate, or the warmest, nicest man to live with. Dood was a freaky tall do-ofus who smelled terrible. Like A fat, unfunny cross-eyed Kramer. We squared away his room mate, and the corner room in Rothermel was usually good for a weekend long load.
Getting rid of the room mate is one of my funnier asshole moments. I peaked in ass-holery at Kutztown. There was nothing to stop me back then. I was suddenly 70+ pounds heavier than I was in high school and getting the "feel" of life as a big guy. A summer of running home from my summer job had me as lean and mean as I ever have been. And my hair was perfect. The coal-miners kids back in the dorm called be "buffalo-head" in between lips fulls of chew. The rugby team called me "Sasquatch" Did I mention how lustrous my hair was?
Anyway, he made me promise him. "Buff, Don't tell anyone I drank your piss. ok?"
Then a college team mate who used to try to stick a dime in the hole in the head of his penis at parties. He's in banking now, figures? He was some sort of talent scout for special sexy parties where people dress in animal masks and have orgies and sometimes you make a hilarious mistake. A dude who is really hanging out his wilde flag, saluting to it, wearing the clothing, reading gay potry..gay love poems... that might get some pee poles attantion. some pee hole attention. pay attention to my pee-hole was the message that was being sent. Pee hole weekly, a literary magazine that focuses on pee hole fiction, whatever the device may be.
I would go to jail for that today, dude would have a blog about being bullied by ore I have to head to work.Triggering other meories of ass-holery, I will list the victims here and then tell them later, when I have time. Paige, Rich, Monica, Comcast, Al, GM in Wales, ...Also I want to find out what the names were of the Exchange students who started the team and where they are now which means emails...
Being called as a witness by the college town police force was a great moment in jurisprudence. Under oath we testified to "boisterous behavior" common to most Saturday nights after a rugby game. I testified that I saw the cops pull up on the curb like "Hawaii Five-0". Hawaii 5-0 was a catchy dance floor number popularized by Chino, the proprietor, dance inventor, renaissance man. We told the judge and didn't see anything except a usual Saturday night at the Basin Street Hotel. The cops were after our eight man. He had a long history with them and they thought they finally had their man. The person filing charges was my finest drinking partner in history. when we figured out that kegs were easily fit in my army duffel and then through his first floor dorm window. We had a room mate situation to deal with. I was not always the best room mate, or the warmest, nicest man to live with. Dood was a freaky tall do-ofus who smelled terrible. Like A fat, unfunny cross-eyed Kramer. We squared away his room mate, and the corner room in Rothermel was usually good for a weekend long load.
Getting rid of the room mate is one of my funnier asshole moments. I peaked in ass-holery at Kutztown. There was nothing to stop me back then. I was suddenly 70+ pounds heavier than I was in high school and getting the "feel" of life as a big guy. A summer of running home from my summer job had me as lean and mean as I ever have been. And my hair was perfect. The coal-miners kids back in the dorm called be "buffalo-head" in between lips fulls of chew. The rugby team called me "Sasquatch" Did I mention how lustrous my hair was?
Anyway, he made me promise him. "Buff, Don't tell anyone I drank your piss. ok?"
Then a college team mate who used to try to stick a dime in the hole in the head of his penis at parties. He's in banking now, figures? He was some sort of talent scout for special sexy parties where people dress in animal masks and have orgies and sometimes you make a hilarious mistake. A dude who is really hanging out his wilde flag, saluting to it, wearing the clothing, reading gay potry..gay love poems... that might get some pee poles attantion. some pee hole attention. pay attention to my pee-hole was the message that was being sent. Pee hole weekly, a literary magazine that focuses on pee hole fiction, whatever the device may be.
I would go to jail for that today, dude would have a blog about being bullied by ore I have to head to work.Triggering other meories of ass-holery, I will list the victims here and then tell them later, when I have time. Paige, Rich, Monica, Comcast, Al, GM in Wales, ...Also I want to find out what the names were of the Exchange students who started the team and where they are now which means emails...
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