Larry Graves

An hour later or so we ended up at Kotex palace, which is our currently unexplained name for one of the residence houses for some upperclassmen. There, I was introduced to what would be a life-changing substance. It goes by the name of "Jungle Juice". Now, for those of you that don't know what "Jungle Juice" is, well...I can't really help you there. I know it has hawaiian punch, and I know it has everclear, which makes it not only strong, but tasty. Coming from a Danish family with a mixture of pretty much every northern European country somewhere, my genetic coding has made me MASSIVELY susceptible to alcohol. Needless to say, I was hammered within half an hour, and that started the night off wonderfully.

After picking up our dates, we went to dinner at a semi-fancy restaurant. The problem with semi-fancy restaurants is that, because they AREN'T fancy, they lower the lights ridiculously so that you can't see the craptacularness of the decor. Following with this stereotype, imagine a REALLY drunk guy wandering through a bunch of circular tables with about 40 other guys and girls ranging from slight inebriated to just about as drunk as I was. Then imagine a really complicated series of hallways leading to a big backroom where we got to eat. Got the picture? Yup, that was my dinner place. That, and three bottles of Mad Dog being passed around.

So now we get to some random facts about my night. Number one, we did the Daler Mindy dance to Tulak Tulak Tun, which all humans should experience at least once, just for the experience of an Arabic Mosh pit. Yes, I did say Arabic Mosh pit. I wish I had this on video, but sadly none of us would have been in any shape to figure out the buttons.

Shortly after the Arabic mosh pit, I apparently got into a fight with somebody...I'm not sure what about, but I did get bodyslammed twice, leading to momentary unconsciousness that WASN'T alcohol-induced. Hooray! After this, I guess I went crawling to the kitchen for water.

Even later, we went to a party at Patterson's, which had a keg. The biggest problem with my being drunk is that the more alcohol I consume, the more I want. So I got good and trashed, then decided to walk home. On the way out, I encountered many police, and freaked out and ran to the back of the house to warn my teammates. To give an example of how completely I was fucked up, none of my teammates actually understood what I said, except for the word "polices" repeated multiple times.

Upon actually starting to walk home, I got lost (big surprise there, eh?) and asked everyone I found if they could direct me home. Even WITH directions, I still got lost, so I moved to my plan B. (I swear to you, this made sense at the time.) I, in my infinite liquid wisdom, decided to call all of the numbers on my phone to see if anyone knew where I was. Needless to say, it didn't work...but I did wake up the next morning in my own bed, so all's well that end's well, right?

I realize that this rendition isn't all that amusing...but now no one can say I didn't tell them about my night. Touche, oh demanding critics!