Profile of: Bricky Bear

Bricky Bear, is that you on top of that horse? Get down from that horse! You don't belong on that horse!


Bricky Bear's Loves: Alcohol of all varieties... actually that's it, just alcohol. Preferably Old Crow Bourbon Whiskey. Also, Camo hats, wearing fake Indian headresses, snorting substances, literature written by alcoholics (namely Bukowski, Hemingway, Kerouac, London), John Denver tunes

Bricky Bear's Hates: LGBT groups, SigEp, horses that ride too fast for bears to ride on them, Sports gods shitting on him, women with morals, anywhere north of the mason-dixon line, Non-alcoholic beverages besides mountain dew, Anyone not originally from America

Bricky Bear's Favorite Ice Cream: Chocolate cocaine chips

Bricky Bear's Favorite thing to do at 5:35 a.m: Drinkin' and watching '97, '98, '02, and '08 Red Wings Stanley Cup videos.

BOX Profile of: Zola McChron-Zola

Is that David Bowie???!!! No! Wait! It's BOX resident ZOLA!


Zola's Love's: Hot Showers, Alcohol (white rum & bourbon), black coffee, Indigo Girls, Movies, Hannah, Cow & Moose, the idea of Zombies (he will not think twice if you turn into a zombie)

Zola's Hates: Religions, Illinoi Nazi's, People who think Animal's Should Have Rights!, Fat People (besides Paul, besides Jon Daly, but including Cheese Paddle), Non-normal Jeopardy, College Football Recruiting, Goalies Facing Rick Nash in Shoot-outs

Zola's Favorite Ice Cream: Cookie's & Zombies

Zola's Favorite thing to do at 5 a.m.: Push Native-American's off of their reservations

Profile of: The Danimal

Is that Hunter S. Thompson, you ask? No! That's BOX resident, The Danimal!!!!

Danimal's Loves: Alcohol, Drugs (specifically low-grade meth), and older women, Zolas, Meijer food chains, Trousers that do not feature zippers (i.e. sweats)

Danimal's Hates: Jews, Catholics (I find this ironic, because Dan is a confirmed Catholic), Protestants, Deer (he hope to kill one someday), Zolas (he also hopes to kill this mammal)

Danimal's Favorite Ice Cream: Cookie's n' Cream

Danimal's Favorite Thing to do at 5 a.m.: Coca-cola (aka the drug)

Olympic Obstacle

Gold. Gold. Gold.

USA! USA! USA!
One fifth. One fifth. One fifth.
Blackout. Blackout. Blackout.

Tonight the Olympic drinkers are faced with what is surely the most formidable obstacle of the Olympics yet. For the first time, the daily fifth was not consumed before 5 p.m. On top of that, we have won a gold and a silver in women's downhill skiing. That put's us at 2 fifths and a pint. Yet Shaun White still has to compete later tonight, which everyone expects should be a gold medal.

To make matters worse, only four of us are drinking tonight. It appears as if the blackness will enter the future of some of those closest to us very shortly.

Update: Gold and Bronze in Speedskating.

Update 11:00 p.m. There are but 3 drinkers remaining. I just finished a paper drunk. The friendly neighborhood drunk is obviously blackout per usual. And the Danimal is drinking. Notorious PLC has departed from the home, but hopefully shall return soon to join is pursuit of intoxication. Al, for some reason, is drinking beverages other than the 2 1/2 fifths that we are required by BOX Olympic law to consume. Expect more drunken updates soon.

Update: 11:20 p.m. Shaun White wins gold. Other unknown American wins bronze. This makes this drinking tallies thus:

- Daily fifth: consumed
- Women's skiing gold (fifth): nearly consumed
- women's skiing silver (pint): consumed
- speed skating gold (fifth): none consumed
- speed skating bronze (CSI 40): consumed
- men's half pipe gold (fifth): none consumed
- men's half pipe bronze (CSI 40): none consumed

Lets recap: it's 11:30 p.m, and we have 2 fifths, one pint, and one CSI 40 to consume before dawn. Not only will this day go down as the greatest Olympic day for the United States of America, but this day will certainly go down as the greatest struggle of the BOX Olympic drinkers - for we surely face a deadly task in front of us in the coming hours.

Update: 11:37 p.m.: One fifth remains. Notorious PLS has returned. He and I intend to represent America by drinking this by ourselves. All others are either too drunk or too Canadian. But the Notorious PLC and myself are American, and we promise that this fifth shall be consumed, no matter how drunk-johsnon we already are,.

Update: 1: 49 a.m. Holy Bozonka-burgers. Zola, PLC, and I determined to consumed alcohol.

The Games Go on.....

The Opening Ceremonies approached quick
We all made sure we looked real sick
All dressed in red, white, and blue
About to drink a lot......what's new.

Everybody supporting our country.
The Great Land of drinking is really something.
We had three half gallons on the plate
Everything was gone, but it wasn't late.

Our whole house stumbling onto the floor.
The booze was gone, but we wanted more.
Lots of dudes were present,
But we still had a few girls, which was pleasant.

The night began to get foggy and hazy
I was crying on Zola's shoulder....how amazing.
Our entire house totally shit bombed.
Dropping booze down the hatch like a phenom.

Waking up the next day, Wow what happened?
Head pounding, stomach aching just the standard.
Lady friend had to climb onto the roof and through the window,
The signs of a true black out, that's what i know.

As we continue on, yes we have won.
Six medals thus far,
We are drinking enough, we could run a bar.
The days are bound to get longer,
And with it our drinking skills will get stronger.

These games aren't for the faint of heart,
We have all known that from the start.
So let us all get together for our nation,
And celebrate our winnings in exaltation.

Go America! Go Box!

Likes and Dislikes 2.0

Some time ago I made a blogpost in regard to my likes and dislikes. I am going to do that again, I don't care if any of you find this interesting or not.

Likes:
Cheese
Long Acronyms ex. MESSENGER (Mercury Surface to Space Engineering and Geochemical Ranging)
Richard the Lionhearted
Carbon Dating
Dirt
Scented Markers
Bungle in the Jungle by Jethro Tull
Bill Lambeer
American Men with Mustaches
Hardened Rubber
Salt
Antlers (of all varieties)
The Term Smushing for Sex
Making Banal things Extreme
Using the word "Banal"
Buzzards, Crows, Ravens and the Like

Dislikes:
Gorillas' Hands
Toadstools
Cathode-Ray Tubes
Sand
John C. Reilly Movies
Jungles
Michigan City, Indiana
European Men with Mustaches
The Scientific Method
People who are Smarter than Me
Swamp Ass
Glenville HS
Androids
Softcore Porn
EECS Majors
Druish Princesses

Support for America? Or Alcoholism? You Be the Judge

Today is Sunday, day 3 of the BOX Olympic Drinking Challenge. Today was supposed to be one of the most difficult days of the challenge, especially considering that Dan, Paul, and myself all marked down that today was one of the days we definitely could not drink (because of midterms/school).

- As of 5:30 p.m., Dan, Paul, and myself have all started drinking.

- When I came home to BOX around 2 p.m., the fifth for the day was already consumed.

- Around 5 p.m, the U.S. won a silver medal. About 5 minutes later, the designated pint was already being consumed.

- Currently, there are a number of BOX members sitting around the television hoping for more medals so we "have an excuse to drink more".

I think we may have underestimated the love for drinking in the house when we layed out the rules for the challenge. Perhaps we should have made it a half gallon per day to really challenge us.

Other notables since the challenge started:

- On day 1, Paul begins to stumble, a common indicator that Paul is blackout. Mid-stumble, he vomits on the floor. After vomiting, he stumbles once again, slipping in his own vomit and falling into the vomit.

- The Friendly Neighborhood Drunk, in a stupor, recorded "Willard's World" - a song already infamous, as it is all about Dan's sexual organs. We hope to get the song on the interwebs shortly.

U.S.A: Jack Johnson

=



If you are not already excited for the drinking bender that will be the 2010 Winter Olympics, starting Friday February 12, the year of our lord 2010:

http://michigandaily.com/content/maize-red-white-blue-former-wolverines-jack-johnson-first-shot-olympic-glory

Michigan Man, through and through, Jack Johnson is the only United States hockey player that will be representing the Red, White, and Blue at the opening ceremonies. If you haven't yet heard about the spat between Johnson and the Los Angeles King's General Manager yet, let me get you up to date on how much of a Michigan Man Jack Johnson is:
1.) L.A. Kings (piece of shit hockey club) G.M. calls out Michigan player Jack Johnson, and claims that Red Berenson, Michigan Hockey coach and legend in all of hockey, doesn't know how to develop players.
2.) Johnson responds to his boss' claims by asserting that the L.A. Kings are a joke of a franchise, and anyone in the organization claiming to know hockey talent should wind up in a gutter dead. Furthermore, Johnson states that U of M develops the greatest number of NHL hockey players in all of college hockey, citing players such as Brendan Morrison, Marty Turco, Aaron Ward, Mike Knuble, Jed Ortmeyer, and Mike Camilleri, among others. In other words, Johnson literally asks to be traded, as he would rather leave L.A. than have his alma-mater criticized.
3.) 2 days later, Jack Johnson shows up at Yost Arena sporting his Michigan varsity jacket, in what I would label a big "fuck you" to the L.A. Kings G.M.

Go Blue. Go U.S.A.

Get your drinking shoes ready, folks.

“I no longer have any reasons to live”

Lonely Mitch’s, you were my favorite bar
Now you have gone away… so far

The nights wasted playing pool were really great
Without you, my life I hate

A blackout, every time I walked inside
Paul and Brick would follow stride

Twas the long-hairs and the chain-smoking Asians
That aided your persuasions

Two dollar pitchers for the entire night
Brett would squirm with such delight

Once I spent one hundred and twenty-one bucks
When I woke up, I said “Shucks”

None of us ever picked up girls at Our Bar
Except Dan… big as a car

I no longer have any reasons to live
Mitch’s back, what I would give

One more night to get silly drunk and black out
In that dirty bar that we called home.

Longing for Days of Yesteryear

I awoke this morning feeling pretty much how I always feel after a hard night's drinking these days: like a victim of the black death. It's a hangover quite hard to describe for those who aren't familiar with the hangover from hell. My innards feel like buzzards are eating them, my brain functions like an emo kid, and my digestive track does absolutely nothing because I'm pretty sure it thinks I'm deceased. As a direct result of this, today I spent nearly 50% of my time at my office job hiding in the basement bathroom vomiting up pleasantries; I have chosen to neglect my academic responsibilities for the day for my own health as well as for the well being of any students who might have been in my close proximity had I chosen to go to class.

Sadly, these days have become the norm in my hard-drinking lifestyle.

Back in high school, when I was but an alcoholic with training wheels, I drank just about every night. The next day, I drank a water bottle in my first class, and I was pretty much fine by the 3rd class of the day. Even freshman year, when Al and I were blossoming drunks, drinking practically every night, I was always able to make it to class the next day. Oh, those were the days. A life in BOX has completely and utterly destroyed what once was, though. Will this ever stop me from living the dream? Certainly, no, but it might slow me down from time to time.

What I wouldn't do to have those freshman year hangovers nowadays.

Or maybe I just need a drink.

Side note: What seems to be every Sunday, I tell myself (and actually believe myself) that this will be the week that I go to every class and do all my work. Time and time again, I wind up blackout drunk on Tuesday and proceed to neglect most of the rest of the week. Today, I tried to tell myself I would finally get serious about this semester. Then I remembered that the Olympics start Friday and that there will not be a shred of dignity in this house for the next 2 weeks.

The Sober Life

Well folks, what an interesting journey thus far. For clearly the longest stretch in my drinking career, I have gone sober for 12 straight days. I must consider this one of my most shining accomplishments in the history of the Friendly Neighborhood Drunk considering the crowd I run with. For those who do not know, I decided after a slight mishap prior to the UM/MSU basketball game that this was necessary.

The day started like any other basketball weekday game. Clearly I needed to skip class to start drinking about 3 hours before the game. But unlike other games, I was not drinking forties or the delicious red with the mere alcohol content of 9%. The Danimal had finally convinced me to man up and thus I drank a fine Vella Merlot with the content of 12%. This was my first major mistake. I had drank 6 fairly large glasses by the time my friend Mitch came to pick me up to go to the game. The second mistake was trying to tie one more on with Mitch.

I proceeded to pour us each one more glass before going to that two hour wait to get into the game. I finished mine in roughly a minute, and Mitch decided not to finish his so I just decided to chug the rest of his. This decision would ultimately lead to an epic failure. The last thing I remember is walking out of BOX and falling down the stairs, utterly destroying a fresh tin of dip in my pocket. While walking past the IM building, trying to clean a tin’s worth of dip out of my pocket, I entered the blackness. From there the rest of what happened I only know from hearsay or second hand sources.

Apparently when I reached Crisler, I proceeded to run around the arena looking for cameras. Why? I have no explanation. Then, I proposed that one of the fans falate me. When she said no, I just happened to say that I’d like to masturbate in her hair. That is all I know what happened outside of the game. Once entered, I marched down the stairs to my typical spot where I could inevitably lay into Tom Izzo. But unfortunately I could not stand. A police officer noticed the state I was in and came to escort me out of the arena. When he tried to grab me, I thought he was shaking my hand, so I gave him the firmest handshake I possibly could. As I was being escorted out, the only words I could put together were “I’m just livin’ the dream.”

When I awoke from my blackout, it was 4am and I was in a hospital bed. This being the second time I ended up in the hospital due to drinking, I was obviously angry. But I saw the wristband from the game on my hand so I assumed I had atleast seen the game. Unfortunately the nurse informed me that I was admitted at 6:20pm…40 minutes to tip. Needless to say I was very disappointed. Then, I saw the highlights to the game and how we completely blew it. That was just more salt in my already gaping wound. When I was discharged at 7am, I was given my bag of things: My swim trunks, my maize rage shirt, another shirt I was using as a turban, my Neil Diamond Vest, my cellular, my wallet, one half used tin of grizzly wintergreen longcut, and two pieces of the other tin that shattered in my pocket. I was driven home from the hospital by DPS and proceeded to sleep through all three of my classes that day and defecated a black goo comparable to tar.

And so folks, this is the reason I have gone 12 days without enjoying the beverages that I have come to love. Right now my goal is to pick up drinking again by the spring game, but odds are that it will be relatively sooner that I end my sabbatical. I would also like to congratulate NotoriousPLC on his case race victory. The man knows how to drink. But I digress. So the next time in the coming weeks that any of you decide to drink have one or two or ten drinks for me.

Done Deal

Posting an impressive time (so I'm told) finishing in 7 hours and approximately 45 minutes, the Notorious PLC defeated Ross. By a score of 30-24, PLC apparently surged with the consumption of roughly 4 beers in 10 minutes and then prepared to enter a state of unconsciousness. However, with 2 beers remaining, the stout coaching of Zola motivated PLC to finish the remaining beer. While I've never had a hangover quite as distinctive as the one I am currently experiencing, I am proud of my accomplishment. If given a few weeks to recover, I will gladly accept any challenge to a similar competition. I've just received information from the Ry-Guy that Jello posted a bet with Brett for the total of $30; Jello doubted Notorious and believed that Ross, the well-traveled drinker, would defeat Notorious, but it appears as though Jello will have to pay up. Farewell loyal readers, academia calls for the next week.

Eve of the Contest

Every so often two fine combatants face off in a tremendous contest: Ali/Frazier, Federer/Nadal, Nicklaus/Palmer. Tomorrow marks one of those events as Notorious PLC (me) will be taking on Ross in a one vs. one Case Race.
The Official Start time is 11:30am and should be an epic battle and clash of wills. Ross should prove to be a difficult competitor; he has been drinking since I was in sixth grade and undoubtededly would be considered the seasoned veteran. However, I have confidence in my own abilities regardless of the the fact that over the summer I was defeated in my last one on one challenge against the Friendly Neighborhood Drunk 30-22. I expect to make up for that showing tomorrow.

With the assistance and guiding influence of a great man, Coach Zola I am sure of my skills and have been refining my abilities in the past weeks. Together, we will formulate a strategy to secure victory. Regardless of who you are rooting for, stay tuned for the results of the monumental contest.

Drinking Olympics: How American Are You?

February is definitely the most boring month of the year. The doldrums of winter set in, and parties become rarer and rarer in Ann Arbor as no one really wants to go outdoors. This year is even worse, as Michigan basketball has ruined its season already, and my beloved Red Wings are as bad as they have been in years.

Yet this February is probably the most anticipated February I have ever had in my life. Yes, BOX house has once again taken an ordinary event and found an excuse to turn it into a long-term drinking bender in which most participants will probably take years off of their lives.

BOX loves America. If you didn't know that, you probably should stop reading. That is why we will be supporting our American heroes in action in the upcoming winter Olympics. The last time this festival was held, the American's lost by a slight margin to the Nazi Germans; this year, though, members of the house feel confident that our drinking will give the Americans that extra push neccesary to give the U.S. the top spot.

The official rules to the event we have created are simple:

1.) All participants must be clad in a silly red, white, and blue outfit.
2.) During the two-week Olympic period, one fifth must be consumed each day. Certainly, on days like Wednesday through Saturday, multiple fifths will be consumed; this is encouraged. But no matter what the day, someone has to man-up and drink at least a fifth.
3.) If the U.S. wins a gold medal, a fifth must be consumed within 24 hours of that medal have being won. This throws a bit of a wrench into the equation, and might make days like Sunday and Monday a bit difficult, especially considering that this time period includes midterms.
Additionally, if the U.S. wins a silver medal, a pint must be consumed, following the same format. And if the U.S. secures a bronze, a 40 of CSI must be consumed. (last Olympics, the U.S. won 9 gold, 9 silver, and 7 bronze... so there will most likely be a minimum of 23 fifths consumed in 14 days). In my opinion, this is the most challenging part of the event. I can just picture the house now, debating about who has to consume 2 fifths at 1 a.m. after the U.S. just secured two gold medals (the olympics are in Vancouver) on a Sunday night before everyone has exams (or, in Dan's case, before he has to teach little kids physical education).

Plans are to kick off the 2-week event with a big shebang the opening Friday, in which we have pledged to consume 3 half gallons. From then on, shenanigans shall occur. It may not be on par with the Old Crow Challenge, but is sure to conjure up some good drunken tales.

I would like to throw in my own personal challenge as well. Certainly, the Olympic drinking marathon is first and foremost a team event, namely for the members of the house plus Craig. But I think it would be interesting to award he who consumes the most amount of booze personally throughout the event with his own gold medal; second and third shall receive honors of silver and bronze respectively. The winners will get a shout-out in the blog, but more importantly, they will get respect as great alcoholics around the house.

For those who are reading (Pete), you should probably drink a fifth a day by yourself to support the good ole U.S.A.

Go USA.

And though I hate that he is an MSU grad, Ryan Miller seems to be taking the Olympics about as seriously as we are:

Drinking

Every member of the house in 10 years:

http://www.theonion.com/content/video/packers_fan_announces_he_will

Except insert Michigan Football whenever you hear Green Bay Packers