so I FIaNLY DECIDE TO WROTE THE POEM OF YOUR DREAMS...........
ODE TO MICHIGAN...... MOSTLY BECAUSE I AM NOT AN ENGLIHSMAJOR AND AM CLEARLY AN ENGINEERING MAJOR..... SO, STOP MAKIN G FUN OF ME AND JUST WRITE YOUR GOD DAMN STORY.... BTW IM GONNA WRITE ANOTHER ONE AFTER THE GAME IS OVER TOMORROW AND IM GONNA KILL YOU UNLESS YOU PUBLISH IT... "btw this was the best poem ever!! from the egypttiain hyroglyphics by the japenese poems and they gonna whOoOoOPyo ass!! be afraid... be very afraid... ron gonna fuck you. and your asshole.... and my asshole. roar sounds like quite the gORRilla... or the
BECAUSE I ANM THE BIGGEST FAN...
By ledners.... 11/21/09: 4:47 AM - cl
ODE TO THE BIG HOUSE
by c... im trying to write something.. i havent doens something english related since before high school related an i woudlnt count on any of that book i just read for anything....
Ode to the man who lives in this Big House
Some man that just can't find a spouse
His name might be shoe-less Paul
But his personality is no better than the wall,
That fucker is just a 100 credits deep,
Ouch, writing this poem seems like I am asleep
We only had a whole year to love and grow so old
But by god those times so surely turned to gold
My life has turned towards our very last game
I surely hope this tailgate will give me some fame!
We spent the past four years of our lives,
Having more god damn fun than our brothers' wives!
She will swing, sing, dance and swear,
During all those times that I cannot bear...
She made it worth all that time and wait...
That i was so ready when she finally opened her gate.
Well, my name is c and I love my life.....
Especially when i live without any woman close to being my wife!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In the real world we will feel like a mouse
Always searching for our brand new god damn Big House
Ode to the big house i must say
Freshman year that Jello came out gay.
We would drink with the ladies in our hall,
and we loved that they'd give out B-jays to all!
During freshman year we liked to experiment
With girls sucking you off with a mouth full of spearmint
So i must say its the ode to michidicks
POaul will join you in those cocks so very thick.
At last you've met a girl that's hot and fat
l wants to nail her nasty, juicy, pussy cat.
She looks so sizzling, she's so nice!
But would Paul's penile size suffice?
So you're not sure she will long for more?
You need a dong she would adore!
But how to get it so long and thick?
Your only hope is Paul's MegaDick!
You'll get so wanted super-size
And see wild craving and jizz in her eyes!
His cock might be just be one big joke
But give him your mom and she'll surely choke,
Your shaft will pound her pink so deep,
Tonight you'll hardly fall asleep!
So the mountain will take you to the top,
You'll fuck her so hard she'll call a cop!
You see that man is bout to get arrested....
But you go to the doctor and your cock is infested
He tells you that you've got the HIV,
But you'd really rather internally bleed.
This is the end of this story my friends.
I really wish this could never ends.
Yes ladies my name really is ,
Despite what you hear I won't make you beg!
-C L
Congratulations!! Graduate Zola you will finally lose your virginity sometime this millennium!!!!!!!!! yay! :-) booya!
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ZOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
Authored by the Great CL, edited by Ronald Lenders, finalized by Brick (Lenders), Justin (da-Molly) "J-Bird" Weyand, and the ORRangutang!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
Playoffs?
I have had a very long hiatus from making a blogpost and for that I am sorry. Academics and a lack of anything cool happening in my life has contributed to my failure in posting. However, I have exciting news for our readers. BOX's broomball team has effectively given itself a chance to win this year's championship. In order to ensure that we would end up in the lower division we lost our opening game of the season to a team of coed's and obviously threw the last game of the season as the Wetness deliberately turned the ball over in our zone and even shot at me (the goalie). The appropriately named Dan Griffin's BOX will be supported by a staunch student section this following week. The Snatch Patch as I have named it will be going wild as next week we face a rival team in the opening round of the playoffs. With the Andymal and Stacks holding down the offensive production, Griffin's veteran leadership, The Holster commanding the defensive zone and yours truly as the Stonewall in net, I am confident in our success. This doesn't even take into account Tweek and the Wetness coming off the bench contributing solid ice time. That kind of lineup is difficult to stop and I don't foresee any way in which our opponent stands a chance at victory. Our game is at 1:20am Sunday night/Monday morning; if you want to show your support come to the Snatch Patch, make signs, do something offensive. For now that is all, I will keep all informed as to the outcome of this and future games.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
BOX man breaks up with a girl
If there is one thing that the members of the BOX house are not good at it is keeping relationships. There is a general lethargy surrounding any attempts to date girls. It usually takes about 3 weeks for the average BOX man to decide "I'm bored, I'm going to do something else." Well my friend, one such BOX member was just to that point when the girl decided to figure out where their relationship was heading. Let's see how it unfolded.
Her: the part about making out with people
Him: lol
Her: gotta get some kinda action
Him: true dat
Her: yeah youre useless
Him: nope
untrue
Her: haha seems to me to be very true
gotta move on
Him: lol okay
Her: haha well you don't actually seem interested sooooooo yeah
kinda pointless for me in that case
Him: don't necessarily need to be exclusive
Her: haha wasn't saying that
you just don't seem interested n seeing me ever unless you're black out drunk
Him: lol
well you're so far away
i do like drinking
Her: haha dude i was like 3 blocks from your
apartment every day last week
and last night
Him: okay
Her: and most other days
Him: agree to disagree
Her: haha how is that disagreeing
Him: eh?
Her: you just said agree to disagree
Him: yes i did
Her: what are we disagreeing about
Him: agreeing?
Her: haha ok
all i know is i'm not really getting what i want out of this and you
don;t really seem to care one way or the other
Him: hokay
Her: my point exactly
alright good talk
Him: YEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH
Her: ?
Him: lol i dunno
Her: haha well i'm sure if i never saw you when we were
sleeping together i'll really never see you if we're not soooo yeh hah
Him: oh thats not true
Her: haha oh come on
Him: we will meet again
someday...
somehow...
Her: right
haha well i no longer have your number and you never call me
so good luck with that one
Him: oh you'll know
you'll know
Her: i;ll know what
Him: that its me
Her: when you don't call me? sure
you kind of suck, you know that? haha
Him: i totally do not
Her: i think this conversation proves tha you do
Him: not true
Her: haha i mean the sex is amazing but it never happens
so yeah you suck
a lot
Him: so you say
but my suckiness will be proven on the battlefield
Her: what?
Him: haha i dunno
i just felt like saying that
Her: oook
well you don't really seem to care about this so i'm going to go haha
Him: i care more than you'll ever know
toodles
Her: haha no you don't you don;t give a shit
therefore why i am saying all of this
alright whatever you're a jackass
Him: AM
NOT
i call the toaster
The average BOX man takes his break up chats very seriously.
Her: the part about making out with people
Him: lol
Her: gotta get some kinda action
Him: true dat
Her: yeah youre useless
Him: nope
untrue
Her: haha seems to me to be very true
gotta move on
Him: lol okay
Her: haha well you don't actually seem interested sooooooo yeah
kinda pointless for me in that case
Him: don't necessarily need to be exclusive
Her: haha wasn't saying that
you just don't seem interested n seeing me ever unless you're black out drunk
Him: lol
well you're so far away
i do like drinking
Her: haha dude i was like 3 blocks from your
apartment every day last week
and last night
Him: okay
Her: and most other days
Him: agree to disagree
Her: haha how is that disagreeing
Him: eh?
Her: you just said agree to disagree
Him: yes i did
Her: what are we disagreeing about
Him: agreeing?
Her: haha ok
all i know is i'm not really getting what i want out of this and you
don;t really seem to care one way or the other
Him: hokay
Her: my point exactly
alright good talk
Him: YEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH
Her: ?
Him: lol i dunno
Her: haha well i'm sure if i never saw you when we were
sleeping together i'll really never see you if we're not soooo yeh hah
Him: oh thats not true
Her: haha oh come on
Him: we will meet again
someday...
somehow...
Her: right
haha well i no longer have your number and you never call me
so good luck with that one
Him: oh you'll know
you'll know
Her: i;ll know what
Him: that its me
Her: when you don't call me? sure
you kind of suck, you know that? haha
Him: i totally do not
Her: i think this conversation proves tha you do
Him: not true
Her: haha i mean the sex is amazing but it never happens
so yeah you suck
a lot
Him: so you say
but my suckiness will be proven on the battlefield
Her: what?
Him: haha i dunno
i just felt like saying that
Her: oook
well you don't really seem to care about this so i'm going to go haha
Him: i care more than you'll ever know
toodles
Her: haha no you don't you don;t give a shit
therefore why i am saying all of this
alright whatever you're a jackass
Him: AM
NOT
i call the toaster
The average BOX man takes his break up chats very seriously.
R.I.P. A lot of Things
As we speak, this blog is dying like so many other things around campus: this house, my time left here, The Friendly Neighborhood Drunk's liver, RichRod's room to breathe, Bill Martin's tenure, that high school JV Defense that goes out every Saturday pretending to be Michigan's defense -- so take this for what its worth.
When I was a pre-drunk growing up, I envisioned my time at U of M full of memorable last-second catches, rose bowl victories, and Ohio State victory celebrations on campus. In fact, the only reason I worked at all in high school, was so that I could watch players like Brian Griese, David Terrell, and Chris Perry run through that tunnel and touch the M Go Blue flag. However, I've learned a valuable lesson that I probably should have known all along: Don't ever get your hopes up too high, because nothing is ever as good as it seems. Not in football or in life. Eventually, it all goes to shit. For reasons that I have determined to be the effect of me being a brutal killer or something else terrible in a past life, the football gods decided that I, along with my fellow senior classmates, were the perfect candidates to get the ultimate shit dumped on us: Being a student/ season ticket holder during the worst 3 years in Michigan football's deep-rooted history. The worst 3 years. I don't need to tell you the teams we lost to, our record, or the about the media blitzkrieg against us. Unless you are like me, and Michigan football is the most important thing in your life, (besides maybe family and close friends) you will never understand the pain, embarassment, and anger that accompanied these three years.
If you haven't noticed yet, I am deeply bitter about how my college career has played out, particularly in terms of athletics. I lived my childhood, adolescence, and teenage years for the sole purpose of what I thought was the only thing I ever wanted in life, the pinnacle of my life -- to go to U of M so I could watch my Wolverines every weekend. I cared nothing for a degree, nothing for an education; all I wanted to do was have a designated spot in the student section at the greatest stadium in the world. Call it unrealistic, call it naive, call it childish, I don't care. Michigan football was and is my life.
That is a brief history of what has become the most depressing thing in my life, but I stray from my main point of this post.
What I didn't realize as a kid was that Ann Arbor's tailgate scene was a world in and of itself, honestly better than any heaven I could imagine. One hundred thousand people sharing a love of my one true love, tradition unlike any other school in the nation, and of course, an endless supply of booze as you hopped from frat to frat down State Street. As a freshman, I immediately fell in love with everything about gameday, but most notably the tradition of getting plastered prior to the game. That first year, I joined the Greek system, and never would have imagined I would end up at BOX. When Al invited me to my first BOX tailgate, I arrived already in a stupor; the next thing I remember is coming-to post blackout during halftime at the stadium and realizing I was covered in ketchup and mustard. Of course I yelled belligerently at the poor students sitting behind me, only to be informed by them that I had in fact been covered in condiments since the moment I walked in the stadium. A Box condiment assault it was.
That was my first BOX tailgate. This Saturday will not only be my, but BOX's, last tailgate... ever. Wedged in between those two dates are days I will never forget and also never remember for the rest of my life. But Saturday, November 21st marks the end of an era. As is true with all good things, it must come to an end at some time or another.
What I urge of you is simple. Don't take this tailgate for granted. If you are a senior, I don't doubt you will savor it for all it is. If you are a junior or younger, remember that you're celebrating the end of an era not just for yourself, but for all those BOX members that have come before you. I've already prepared myself for the absolute wreck I'm going to be in the stadium following what is an almost certain loss; I simply don't know how I'll ever be able to bring myself to leave that stadium for the last time in maybe forever. But the football team's countless problems are not mine. What I can control is how I pursue the final BOX tailgate, my final tailgate at Michigan. I literally plan to begin drinking at 9 or 10 p.m that Friday, continuing through the night until the noon kickoff. Blacking out is irrelevant, especially since its probably preferable to watching the dumpster babies that play defense for us.
You have the rest of your life to be old, wake up at 10 a.m. for a noon game, take you liver medicine, feed your 3 cats, and go do errands for your bitch wife before watching Michigan football kickoff - which you're not drinking for by the way. This is your last chance to drink freely and openly with your closest friends, black out, cuss out a seven year old, dump a vodka drink on an old man, cuss out a seventy year old lady, dump a vodka drink on yourself, and get away with it all.
Go Blue. Do it hard Saturday.
When I was a pre-drunk growing up, I envisioned my time at U of M full of memorable last-second catches, rose bowl victories, and Ohio State victory celebrations on campus. In fact, the only reason I worked at all in high school, was so that I could watch players like Brian Griese, David Terrell, and Chris Perry run through that tunnel and touch the M Go Blue flag. However, I've learned a valuable lesson that I probably should have known all along: Don't ever get your hopes up too high, because nothing is ever as good as it seems. Not in football or in life. Eventually, it all goes to shit. For reasons that I have determined to be the effect of me being a brutal killer or something else terrible in a past life, the football gods decided that I, along with my fellow senior classmates, were the perfect candidates to get the ultimate shit dumped on us: Being a student/ season ticket holder during the worst 3 years in Michigan football's deep-rooted history. The worst 3 years. I don't need to tell you the teams we lost to, our record, or the about the media blitzkrieg against us. Unless you are like me, and Michigan football is the most important thing in your life, (besides maybe family and close friends) you will never understand the pain, embarassment, and anger that accompanied these three years.
If you haven't noticed yet, I am deeply bitter about how my college career has played out, particularly in terms of athletics. I lived my childhood, adolescence, and teenage years for the sole purpose of what I thought was the only thing I ever wanted in life, the pinnacle of my life -- to go to U of M so I could watch my Wolverines every weekend. I cared nothing for a degree, nothing for an education; all I wanted to do was have a designated spot in the student section at the greatest stadium in the world. Call it unrealistic, call it naive, call it childish, I don't care. Michigan football was and is my life.
That is a brief history of what has become the most depressing thing in my life, but I stray from my main point of this post.
What I didn't realize as a kid was that Ann Arbor's tailgate scene was a world in and of itself, honestly better than any heaven I could imagine. One hundred thousand people sharing a love of my one true love, tradition unlike any other school in the nation, and of course, an endless supply of booze as you hopped from frat to frat down State Street. As a freshman, I immediately fell in love with everything about gameday, but most notably the tradition of getting plastered prior to the game. That first year, I joined the Greek system, and never would have imagined I would end up at BOX. When Al invited me to my first BOX tailgate, I arrived already in a stupor; the next thing I remember is coming-to post blackout during halftime at the stadium and realizing I was covered in ketchup and mustard. Of course I yelled belligerently at the poor students sitting behind me, only to be informed by them that I had in fact been covered in condiments since the moment I walked in the stadium. A Box condiment assault it was.
That was my first BOX tailgate. This Saturday will not only be my, but BOX's, last tailgate... ever. Wedged in between those two dates are days I will never forget and also never remember for the rest of my life. But Saturday, November 21st marks the end of an era. As is true with all good things, it must come to an end at some time or another.
What I urge of you is simple. Don't take this tailgate for granted. If you are a senior, I don't doubt you will savor it for all it is. If you are a junior or younger, remember that you're celebrating the end of an era not just for yourself, but for all those BOX members that have come before you. I've already prepared myself for the absolute wreck I'm going to be in the stadium following what is an almost certain loss; I simply don't know how I'll ever be able to bring myself to leave that stadium for the last time in maybe forever. But the football team's countless problems are not mine. What I can control is how I pursue the final BOX tailgate, my final tailgate at Michigan. I literally plan to begin drinking at 9 or 10 p.m that Friday, continuing through the night until the noon kickoff. Blacking out is irrelevant, especially since its probably preferable to watching the dumpster babies that play defense for us.
You have the rest of your life to be old, wake up at 10 a.m. for a noon game, take you liver medicine, feed your 3 cats, and go do errands for your bitch wife before watching Michigan football kickoff - which you're not drinking for by the way. This is your last chance to drink freely and openly with your closest friends, black out, cuss out a seven year old, dump a vodka drink on an old man, cuss out a seventy year old lady, dump a vodka drink on yourself, and get away with it all.
Go Blue. Do it hard Saturday.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)