9 GUYS 1 CUP

Trials of the Garbage Man

2010-12-04T12:43:00.005-05:00

Today, a champion has fallen, but let us not remember how he failed, but how he won. Today, I tell the tale of the Garbage Man, and his eating challenges.

Garbage Man (GM), has always had the gift of massive caloric intake. Whenever GM received free food or was at a buffet, GM would always make sure that he took in food to the point he was just short of vomiting. It's just the kind of champ he is. Now in instances such these, GM would set little goals for himself, i.e. "Bet I can eat 5 plates of food" (Old Country Buffet), or "Bet I can finish the rest of the tray of mostocolli" (Good ol' mama GM). These were all well and good, but not official house sanctioned challenges. What really brought on the challenges was the infamous "Pizza bite challenge".

One night GM had made his usual frozen pizza and a stroke of genius hit him. Why not test the sporting side of himself while eating? The conversation went something like this:

GM- "Hey guys, you think I can eat this pizza in under 30 bites?"

Roommates- "We don't care."

GM- "I think I can!"

And so the Bite Challenge was born. Every time GM made a frozen pizza, he would count how many bites it took him to finish, but there were also rules: 1.) The pizza could not be folded or cut, and 2.) Single bites were one open and shut motion. Now keep in mind this competition and its rules were all made by GM because no roommates gave two shits about this competition, but he kept fighting the good fight. One time he even gave himself a self imposed 1-bite penalty because of a "suspect bite". That time he could have had 19 bites, but with the penalty it was 20, and it still stands as his record. Again though, one challenge starts another, and we were inspired to start eating challenges.

The Fish Stick Challenge
Roommates were sitting around drinking on a Saturday night, and previously I had seen the GM eating 20 fish sticks. I was feeling in a sporting mood, so I proposed a challenge to him.

"Garbage man, give yourself a challenge and eat the rest of that bag (100 fish sticks) tonight"

GM- "What'll you give me if I do?" (his answer to virtually 98% of requests)

Eventually we made it into a real challenge; 100 fish sticks in one hour. If he won: a fifth of bottom shelf whiskey. If he lost? Shame. Well GM didn't fail, he ate the shit out of those fish sticks in fact. I'll be damned if he didn't get blackout drunk and have sex that night, too. What a man.

Summer Sausage Challenge
Again, roommates were thinking of horrible food that would be tough for GM to eat in large quantities, and summer sausage was proposed. On this occasion, the GM had already eaten, so he was Michael Jordan, game 5 of the '97 finals. Even so, the roommates proposed that if GM at least attempted to eat 1.5 lbs of summer sausage in 30 min, he would be rewarded with a bottom shelf whiskey. This sparked the sporting man in GM, and again he accepted the challenge. At the end of the time limit he had gone through 1.2 lbs of summer sausage. Let me reiterate: The Garbage Man ate 1.2 pounds of summer sausage in 30 minutes on a full stomach. A true man amongst boys who happen to care about what enters their stomachs.

Today, the Garbage Man truly met his eating match, and spurred on this entire post. The gauntlet was finally thrown down...
The McRib Challenge
After a fair amount of negotiation over the course of a few weeks, GM accepted the terms of the McRib challenge last night:
-10 McRibs in 65 minutes,
-He would has to pay for half the McRibs if he loses
-The regular bottom shelf whiskey if he wins
-The challenge takes place in his room
-No picture-taking devices during the competition
-We must get them for him before noon today. Lets get right into it, shall we?

I walked into McDonalds with some pep in my step this morning, moseyed on up to the counter, perused the menu for a second, and said "I'll have 10 McRibs and a medium coffee."

-The woman behind the counter chuckles, "Are you serious?"

Me-"Yup"

The woman does some typing on her computer, and then calls the manager over for something, which is just about when just about every worker seems to have seen the order and each one says "10?" This is when Zola and I start getting thoroughly embarrassed. To have to sit in there, waiting for 10 McRibs with a building full of MCDONALDS WORKERS looking down on you is something I'd rather not be put through again. Nevertheless, after a short while we received 4 bags of McRibs and a coffee and we shuffled out of there.

Upon arriving home, Garbage Man was at his peak of hunger, and not 10 minutes after our arrival he dove into them. We all gathered in GM's room, turned on his HD recording of the Victoria's Secret Fashion show, and started the timer. From the outset GM far outperformed everyone's expectations-
50 seconds-1st McRib
2.5 min-2nd McRib
4 min-3rd McRib
7 min-4th McRib

At this astronomical pace every roommate thought that GM had hustled us with the rules, and we had been played for fools. He had finished 6 McRibs in 30 minutes, and we thought the real challenge would be finding something Adriana Lima could walk in that wouldn't make her look like the most attractive person on the planet. GM pooed at the 35 minute mark though and hit his wall. After lying in his bed for another 5 minutes, he officially threw in the towel, knowing that another bite of saucy McRib would surely lead to vomit. Few thought that GM would see anything but victory, but clearly Ronald Mcdonald had other plans. This surely won't be the last of the eating challenges, but it will always be the most daunting. Here's to you, oh most vile of men.

**EDIT**
How could I forget GM's first eating challenge associated with BOX? We were at the dining hall once, and after eating a full (gargantuan GM-style, i think it was on the order of 5 plates) meal, Bri-Bri offered to pay GM 5 whole bucks to eat another 5 pieces of pizza and a giant milkshake. GM took the bet, downed the food, and napped for half a day. Again, what a man.

The Litte Things I Will Miss

2010-07-28T23:15:00.006-04:00

Tonight I received a text message, a text message that seems like I've been receiving on a nightly basis from the same person since the fall of 2006, when we first met: "I'm a mess". The composer of the message was Al, who has been my best friend throughout college. It goes without saying that no one would be surprised that Al was drunk, but I was intrigued when he said that he was reading old blog entries while drunk with his father.

After drinking about six beers by myself, which has become the norm of my summer in Northern Michigan, inspired by Al and the great Steve, I began reading the blog, from its inception up to its unofficial close sometime at the end of the last semester.

What appealed to my emotions most was not the standard, comical drunken moments that are detailed at length throughout the blog's history, but rather, the little things about life at BOX that are intricately woven into the blog. It's those little things that make me proud to be a member of the exclusive fraternity of men - make no mistake, we comprise a fraternity that features a bond much stronger and much closer than anyone in Michigan's Greek life can boast - that have had the privilege of calling BOX their home. It goes without saying that everyone of us will remember tailgates, the big parties, bar nights. Any college student can say that. Only a few can say they lived in BOX to experience the little things, though, which I think made it so special.

As my graduation day on May 1st drew closer, and my days of residing in BOX neared a close during the month of April, I found myself, quite simply, sick of the BOX house. It's something any resident of the shit-hole has felt at one time or another. I was tired of living in filth, tired of hearing about yet another city inspection, tired of being the only one who knew how to use the dishwasher (or maybe just the only one who knew we even had a dishwasher), and quite frankly, worn out by the lifestyle of the genuine alcoholic I had become.

Having been separated from the mecca for a full three months now, I can truly appreciate the old saying that "absence makes the heart grow fonder". Minute occurrences that I thought I despised, I now miss. I think we all knew we would miss the big stuff, but I didn't think I would miss all the things I thought I disliked so much. Time has a way of putting a sweet flavor of reminisce into the memory, I suppose. I tend to have this feeling right around this time, the end of July, every summer, but this time, unfortunately, its permanent for all of us.

The little things I will miss about BOX House:

Hangover Sunday's.

Having spent most of my hangovers over the past three months by my lonesome, I am quick to lament the loss of that familiar bond of struggle that occurred without fail ever Sunday morning. When Sunday's rolled around in the BOX living room, most of us were left in the trenches to fight the all-inclusive hangover from what was a hangover dating (at least) back to Wednesday night at Mitch's. There was a time freshman year when I used to use Sunday's as study days, but I, as is with all BOX residents, was forced to make Sunday a hangover day during my tenure there. In my mind, at least six of us would pile onto the couches for about twelve straight hours on those Sundays, watching mindless television, quite incapable of doing much else. Don't get me wrong, there was nothing fun about those days at the time, but there's something about retrospect that makes them seem like more fun; at least the company of others in your same boat beats what surely awaits all of us in the future, a hangover with no companion other than the wife and dog.

The hours leading up to a tailgate

Every college student, save for the extreme nerds and clueless foreigners, knows what a football Saturday consists of. Very few know of the feeling of being at BOX at 5:30 a.m. just prior to a tailgate. I've documented it before on this blog, but it deserves saying again, I believe the time from 5:30 to about 8:00 a.m. is the best time of the tailgate. During that time you are surrounded by those who truly care, the utter die-hards of Michigan football tailgating, you are perhaps still conscious of what is about to occur, a beautiful day worthy of the great days of your life, and you can sip your drink, truly happy with the world about you.

Pre-gaming events that aren't OK to pregame for

Many of us who have lived at BOX were self-proclaimed alcoholics, me being one of the biggest, and perhaps most sincere, of those. For an alcoholic, it is extremely convenient to have at your disposal someone willing to drink with you at a moment's notice. Quite literally, there was always someone at BOX willing to drink with you, at any given time. And I think it is here that separates BOX from the typical college student. Any college student is used to pre-gaming for football games or the bars, but I don't really remember any events in which we didn't pre-game for at BOX. If you wanted to pre-game for class, there's usually always someone who woke up still drunk who wants to do a couple shots with you before class. Christ, I pre-gamed for my own graduation. As we all move on with our lives and slowly attempt to infiltrate the real world, I think we will all find that pre-gaming many events is simply unacceptable to the real world. When in BOX, you could simply spit on the expectations of the real world and come drunk to anything you wanted.

Socially Unacceptable Amounts of Pre-Gaming

I often heard college students remarking on how they pre-gamed too much before the party. "Wow, I got way too drunk before the party," I would hear. I remember thinking to myself, "thank God I'm in BOX". Yeah, college students get too drunk sometimes. For each person who got too drunk before a party that one time a week, we were getting too drunk before parties 5 times a week. BOX took it to another level. If we were going to a bar or to a party, it was blackout or bust. People would consume an entire fifth, two 40's of CSI, or 15 beers before going out, and then we would still outdrink everyone at the party after that. Now that I've experienced the outside world for what it is, I've realized that drinking half handle of Old Crow is not what most people do before hitting the bars. That normality, I will surely miss.

That's all for now, I've got more, but I'm a bit drunk to continue writing. If only I had something else I miss from college to keep me going...

Long live the blog. Love you all. If anyone's alive out there, post your own memories.

- Brick (my google account somehow got deleted?)

Poop War 2010

2010-05-10T18:38:00.002-04:00

The beginning of Poop War 2010 has been launched. I have been relocated away from BOX for the summer, working in my hometown of Gun Ru (Grand Rapids), but was informed of a recent theft at the home. On Friday night, one of the roommate's bikes and more importantly the "GO BOX-GO WOLVERINES-GO TO CAMPUS CORNER" sign were stolen. This occurred largely due to the Open Door Policy instituted and still supported under the Russell Administration beginning in 2007. The Open Door Policy, as its name suggests, states that the front door should be unlocked at all (at least 99%) of the time and only should be locked over extended breaks. It is advantageous because I am fairly certain no one owns a key to the front door, but also because it is the embodiment of our attitude being welcoming to just about any human. This has its drawbacks in the form of theft and the constant annoyance of street urchins. However, after the recent cowardly acts of last Friday a Poop War has been declared.

Due to important intel from Jello, BOX has become aware of enemies that live right down the street on Hoover. These individuals have made a public declaration of wanting to steal the House letters and may be responsible for last year's stolen letters. While we don't know if it was these same individuals who stole the sign and bike, it makes little difference. A poop now, ask questions later approach has been taken. Since the suspects' home has been identified, the Wetness has called me to inform me of a Hiroshima-style Poop Attack on their grill. I expect a complete breakdown of the horrifying attack. Millions of lives will surely be lost, but since the men of BOX have notoriously vicious and unrelenting poops, it seems fitting that this form of attack ought to be the desired weapon.

Let it Begin...

LT: I Don't Remember My Draft Day

2010-05-08T15:09:00.002-04:00

NEW SPECIES DISCOVERED

2010-04-27T14:21:00.001-04:00

The Cavanagh Bird: A portly, flightless bird who smokes Santa Fe's and eats exclusively burritos

Antiqued

2010-04-24T16:14:00.001-04:00

This is what happens when you pass out drunk circa 4 p.m. at BOX:

... ANTIQUED!

R.I.P. BOX Tailgating

2010-04-23T19:53:00.001-04:00

New Box House Pets

2010-04-08T22:02:00.005-04:00

Ever since the death of the beloved hamster Harriet Tubman, as she was poisoned while she drowned in the BOX washing machine, the BOX fellowship has been saddened and dismayed with the absence of a house pet. The Friendly Neighborhood Drunk was so upset that he attempted to dig up Harriet's grave in the front yard with a 2 by 4 during a stupor (Fortunately, someone stopped him, and Harriet still rests in peace). In lieu of our pet-loneliness, BOX decided to buy this:

Everyone should own an ant farm! Not only is it educational, but it is downright fun. Furthemore, it is especially easy to maintain an ant farm when your house is infested with ants! (BOX is dirty, if you were wondering). Things we have done with the ant farm thusfar:

- Fed the ants weed brownies
- Put a bumblebee into the farm to watch two powers of the insect world duke it out
- Put a ladybug into the farm to be annihilated
- Fed ants booze.

What an amazing pet!

Bum Court BOX Basketball

2010-04-02T15:28:00.003-04:00

This afternoon BOX members fell upon Bum Court. Pushing aside the broken glass and other mysterious substances on the court, we began to shoot around. Soon enough, a game ensued. The teams were split by Notorious PLC, The Wetness, and Marky Mark on one side. Our opponents were Zola, C-Rag, and Folster the Holster. Now, I know that all of my readers are concerned, and have a lot invested into me winning this showdown. However, when the game began Notorious PLC ceased to be and instead I took on the alter ego of The Landlord because I owned the paint. In what will be considered one of the most important and epic games to ever take place, our team was victorious 11-7. The Landlord capped off the best performance of his career with an oustanding 3 points. My athleticism is a gift for all mankind. Due to our mean team defense, the best Bum Court basketball player to ever live, Zola, was held to 1 point.

Scoring Summary
Marky Mark: 4
The Wetness: 4
Notorious PLC (The Landlord): 3

Other Team: Who Cares?

It feels so great to know that you're a winner, and not a loser like Zola, C-Rag, or the Holster. Its just such a rewarding feeling.

BOX: 2010 Frat of the Year

2010-03-20T15:38:00.003-04:00

The poll results are in, and America has spoken:

We successfully pissed off some sorority, and pissed off the SigEp bro's who were bro-ing out on the lawn yesterday. Also keep in mind that this sign accompanied all of our furniture on the front lawn yesterday.

Also, things currently happening inside the home:
- Broken garbage disposal, which has created a sloppy broth of food compiling in the sink
- 1 clogged toilet
- Mysterious garbage can full of urine festering in the bathtub that Harriet Tubman briefly called home
- One couch soiled by the infamous drunk urinater, smelling strongly of cheese

Meatspin Record

2010-03-07T15:59:00.003-05:00

To preface, BOX has sort of a unofficial challenge about who can get the most meatspins, of course by someone else putting meatspin.com on an unsuspecting victim's computer.

Earlier this year, I thought I had made quite the accomplishment when my computer screen read "320,00" meatspins on meatspin.com. I was wrong.

Apparently, over spring break, or Gay10 - which I hope to describe fully with another entry - I had been meatspinned. When I returned today, I had reached 658,000 meatspins. I challenge anyone else in the world to acquire more that than.

Profile of: Bricky Bear

2010-02-18T05:26:00.004-05:00

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

2010-02-18T05:02:00.002-05:00

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

2010-02-18T04:53:00.005-05:00

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

2010-02-17T18:36:00.010-05:00

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.....

2010-02-15T12:48:00.003-05:00

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

2010-02-14T21:27:00.002-05:00

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

2010-02-14T17:38:00.004-05:00

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

2010-02-10T14:48:00.004-05:00

=

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”

2010-02-09T14:14:00.001-05:00

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

2010-02-08T13:14:00.004-05:00

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

2010-02-07T13:16:00.001-05:00

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

2010-02-07T11:46:00.003-05:00

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

2010-02-05T14:23:00.003-05:00

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?

2010-02-02T15:23:00.009-05:00

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

2010-02-02T12:16:00.003-05:00

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

Paul is a garbage man

2010-01-29T22:43:00.002-05:00

But more importantly, a legend and believer in everything that Box holds dear has stepped down today. John Daly has said that he will no longer golf. Gone are the days of seeing this man blackout in Hooters and wear ridiculous pants to golf tournaments. We will never forget you John Daly. I hope everyone pours one out for the homey not with us tonight.

The Upcoming Weekend

2010-01-29T11:00:00.003-05:00

I look forward to the upcoming weekend with the most unbridled anticipation. The return of the infamous White St. gentlemen is upon us. Among these folk include Ass-Born, Paul's Son, Human and if I am not mistaken BAD (Big Asian Dave). While it is not summer and therefore no cornhole will take place, there will most certainly be shenanigans of the most degrading and humiliating nature. I think I will try to persuade Human to engage in another Crayfish Boil and perhaps assault Ass-Born for arbitrary reasons. The thing that is most exciting for everyone in the house is the fact that a certain Peter Mattes will NOT be returning this weekend. We all cherish the moments of our lives that Peter doesn't ruin with his miserable existence. This is why I can say with complete confidence that my past 6 months (in which Peter has been absent to Seattle) have been the best times of my life. On the other hand, the White St. fellows' triumphant return will be celebrated in grand fashion. I hope that Paulson will be drunker than the time when he wandered about Zolapalooza wearing only a loincloth made of leopard print. I also sincerely hope that BAD will have a strong AOE session before my eyes. I still do not condone of the game, but I do miss BAD's presence and his skills in the game of medieval warfare on the computer. Ultimately, let us all enjoy the White St.'s return and more importantly another weekend absent of Peter Mattes' trivial absurdities.

Box man breaks up part deux

2010-01-26T00:31:00.005-05:00

In the second part of this story, we find the same two people in another conversation, but this time the woman tries to make the man feel guilty about his actions. As a background the woman is reacting to the man from Box and his friend making drunken fools of themselves the previous night and abandoning her and her friend. See the how one from Box acts when backed into a corner.

Her: Haha amy is nooot feeling steve right now you guys are like the turn off champions lol
Him: Whyyy? What did he do?
Her: She said she thinks he would just be really wasted and crazy all the time and that is not her thing. I am just the messenger haha.
Him: Lol well she doesn't know. She's just saying that bc of association with me
Her: And because of how drunk he was the other night. But yeah she doesnt want to be the new me, to be blunt haha. As fun as it can be lol
Her: You set a standard of excellence apparently haha
Him: THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE HIGHLANDER
Him: Eh I'm sure he'll be fine
Her: Haha way to skip over the part where we all think u are mean lol
Him: I AM CONNER MACLEOD, OF THE CLAN MACLEOD
Her: Haha yeah this is why i dont want to sleep with you
Her: But glad i can be treated with such respect always a pleasure
Him: I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am IMMORTAL
Her: Are you trying to make me more mad than i was already because working.
Him: I've been alive for four and a half centuries, and I cannot die?
Her: Ok great done talking now
Him: I apologize for calling your wife a bloated warthog, and I bid you good day.

Thank you Conner Macleod, for inspiring us all

Awesomnosity

2010-01-20T00:11:00.007-05:00

Very rarely does one person touch all mankind with a true mastery of their art. One man who exemplifies this action more than anyone else is the great Nicolas Cage. For the last 3 decades he has provided such greats ranging from "Leaving Las Vegas", to "Bangkok Dangerous"; moreso who could forget the fantastic epic "Con Air"? Well gentlemen, again he graces our screen again, but this time in musical form. Yes, not only can he impersonate elvis, he does techno. Without further ado, Sir Nicolas Cage.

yes I can't figure out how to get it on our blog so enjoy elsewhere

Response

2010-01-16T10:47:00.003-05:00

While usually I would attempt to craft something in response to the allegations put against me, this time I will not. All I will say is that I can't confirm or deny any of the said attributes (a great deal are true-I will leave the interpretation of which is true and not to the reader). All I will say is in regard to Peter Mattes, I am thankful that I have been circumcised.

A letter to Mr. Cavanagh

2010-01-15T22:29:00.001-05:00

It will indeed surprise some people to hear me say this, but Mr. Paul L. Cavanagh's as dumb as dirt. I want to share this with you because Paul's attempts to identify political and religious groups that are his political enemies and re-label them as "unbalanced dipsomaniacs" in order to justify operations against them are much worse than mere vandalism. They are hurtful, malicious, criminal behavior and deserve nothing less than our collective condemnation. Your guess is as good as mine as to why Paul wants to manipulate everything and everybody. Maybe it's because he plans to turn a deaf ear to need and suffering.

Paul keeps telling everyone within earshot that he is a paragon of morality and wisdom. I'm guessing that Paul read that on some Web site of dubious validity. More reliable sources generally indicate that he possesses no significant intellectual skills whatsoever and has no interest in erudition. Heck, he can't even spell or define "erudition", much less achieve it.

Stripping from the term "poluphloisboiotatotic" the negative connotations it evokes, I will try to open students' eyes, minds, hearts, and souls to the world around them. Perhaps Paul has never had to take a stand and fight for something as critical as our right to pursue virtue and knowledge. But on this subject we get only a lot of blather and obfuscation from him and his comrades. Let me try to explain what I mean by that in a single sentence: Time cannot change his behavior. Time merely enlarges the field in which Paul can, with ever-increasing intensity and thoroughness, interfere with my efforts to rub his nose in his own hypocrisy.

Paul has been known to say that sophomoric rotters should be fêted at wine-and-cheese fund-raisers. That notion is so acrimonious, I hardly know where to begin refuting it. He has been a bad apple for as long as I can remember. I know you're wondering why I just wrote that. I'll explain shortly, but first, I should state that Paul often argues that principles don't matter. A similar argument was first made over 1200 years ago by a well-known pop psychologist and was quickly disproved. In those days, however, no one would have doubted that Paul has never disproved anything I've ever written. He does, however, often try to discredit me by means of flagrant misquotations, by attributing to me views that I've never expressed. In the end, some day, Paul's antihumanist janissaries may ask you why you think it's a good idea to establish a supportive—rather than an intimidating—atmosphere for offering public comment. If you're too stunned to answer immediately they'll answer for you, probably stating that honor counts for nothing. You should therefore be prepared to tell these vile hucksters that Paul accuses me of being a liar. The only proven liar around here, however, is Paul. Only a die-hard liar like Paul could claim that hedonism is the only alternative to chauvinism. The truth, in case you haven't already figured it out, is that his attendants have the gall to accuse me of challenging all I stand for. Were these prudish politicasters born without a self-awareness gene? That's the question that perplexes me the most because Paul keeps stating over and over again that his activities are on the up-and-up. This drumbeat refrain is clearly not consistent with the facts on the ground—facts such as that people sometimes ask me why I seem incapable of saying anything nice about Paul. I'd like to—really, I would. The problem is, I can't think of anything nice to say. I guess that's not surprising when you consider that Paul's reason is not true reason. It does not seek the truth but only hypersensitive answers, bleeding-heart resolutions to conflicts.

When Paul tells us that we should abandon the institutionalized and revered concept of democracy, he somehow fails to mention that his monographs reek like rotten eggs. He fails to mention that some of his former companions say they were willing to help him feed blind hatred because Paul convinced them that they were part of a historic mission to save the world from a parasitic global conspiracy—a belief they now reject as refractory. And he fails to mention that anyone who hasn't been living in a cave with his eyes shut and his ears plugged knows that he says he's going to recruit and encourage young people to spew forth ignorance and prejudice, just as older drug dealers use young kids to push drugs, some day. Good old Paul. He just loves to open his mouth and let all kinds of things come out without listening to how mingy they sound.

There is no such thing as evil in the abstract. It exists only in the evil deeds of evil people like Paul. He needs to open up to the world around him. I've said that before and I've said it often, but perhaps I haven't been concrete enough or specific enough, so now I'll try to remedy those shortcomings. I'll try to be a lot more specific and concrete when I explain that unless you define success using the sort of loosey-goosey standards by which he abides you'll realize that true measures of success involve calling your attention to the problem of shallow pickpockets. Success is getting the world to see that Paul has a long, propagandism-infested history of attempts to redefine humanity as alienated machines/beasts and then convince everyone that they were never human to begin with. I'll say that again because I want it to sink in: Any effort to negotiate with him or appease him is akin to spitting into a hurricane to quiet its fury.

Paul is careless with data, makes all sorts of causal interpretations of things without any real justification, has a way of combining disparate ideas that don't seem to hang together, seems to show a sort of pride in his own biases, gets into all sorts of cranky speculation, and then makes no effort to test out his speculations—and that's just the short list! He seems totally incapable of understanding that he is completely patronizing. We all are, to some extent, but Paul sets the curve. He keeps saying that I'm some sort of cully who can be duped into believing that his opinions are a breath of fresh air amid our modern culture's toxic cloud of chaos. This is exemplary of the nonsensical rhetoric and scaremongering that typifies the language of ethically bankrupt jackanapes and other unruly fruitcakes. You may make the comment, "What does this have to do with peremptory flag burners?" Well, once you begin to see the light you'll realize that Paul seems unable to think of turns of speech that aren't hackneyed. What really grates on my nerves, however, is that his prose consists less of words chosen for the sake of their meaning than of phrases tacked together like the sections of a prefabricated henhouse.

Paul's fairy tales all stem from one, simple, faulty premise—that newspapers should report only on items he agrees with. The last time I told Paul's helots that I want to hold Paul to account for preventing me from sleeping soundly at night they declared in response, "But there is something intellectually provocative in the tired rehashing of hidebound stereotypes." Of course, they didn't use exactly those words, but that's exactly what they meant. I've heard of pestilential things like philistinism and interdenominationalism. But I've also heard of things like nonviolence, higher moralities, and treating all beings as ends in and of themselves—ideas which his ignorant, unthinking, nefarious brain is too small to understand. Paul has been trying to raise funds for scientific studies that "prove" that profits come before people. This is what's called "advocacy research" or "junk science" because it's funded by mawkish scum who have already decided that it's perfectly safe to drink and drive. He says that he has his moral compass in tact. Whenever I hear such statements from Paul I reel in disbelief. Does he really believe such atrabilious things? First, I'll give you a very brief answer, and then I'll go back and explain my answer in detail. As for the brief answer, by leading to the destruction of the human race, Paul is telegraphing his intentions to create a beachhead for organized Bulverism.

Paul's scare tactics are a mere cavil, a mere scarecrow, one of the last shifts of a desperate and dying cause. If you've never seen Paul squander irreplaceable treasures, you're either incredibly unobservant or are concealing the truth from yourself. Just as night follows day, he will put our liberties at risk by a stupid and obscene rush to take rights away from individuals whom only Paul perceives as rummy before the year is over. Apparently, unlike everyone else in the world, he seriously believes that war is peace, freedom is slavery, and ignorance is strength. Woo woooo! Here comes the clue train. Last stop: Paul.

Only the impartial and unimpassioned mind will even consider that Paul believes that bombarding me with insults is essential for the safety and welfare of the public. That's just wrong. He further believes that every word that leaves his mouth is teeming with useful information. Wrong again! I was once asked, "When will he come clean and admit that he intends to make life less pleasant for us?". I'm not quite sure how to answer such a question. The problem is that some people have indicated that Paul's atavistic values lead him to abridge our basic civil liberties. I can neither confirm nor deny that statement, but I can say that idle hands are the devil's tools. That's why Paul spends his leisure time devising ever more meretricious ways to promulgate partisan prejudice against others. It is high time for someone to advance a clear, credible, and effective vision for dealing with our present dilemma and its most closed-minded manifestations. Will that someone be you?

The weekend beckons

2010-01-15T14:45:00.002-05:00

As friday arrives, we all realize

It is time to black out.
We may shout, we may pout
But we all know that there is no doubt.
The red haired heathen from next door,
will definitely be laying on the floor.
His birthday party, yes indeed,
DJ Jello is not what we need.
Zola will be out of the house once again,
Hopefully he will gain his redemption.
He wants a cuddle buddy, to put it in his muddy
Spot between his legs. It maybe be one of box's pegs.

Tomorrow will be yet another day,
Drinking games we will play.
Cases races are so much fun,
We are so sloppy when we are done.
Partying again tomorrow night,
Hopefully there will be no fights.
Sunday will then be here too quick,
The hand on the clock continues to tick
Real life is a bunch of shit, no matter what we do we won't quit.

Early Night Hilarity

2010-01-09T22:53:00.001-05:00

Chris: "Wow Zalinski, what are you reaching for, a fat cock?"
Dan: "Don't mind him."

WTF

2010-01-06T06:53:00.003-05:00

I woke up at 6:30am today... alone... not sure why. Some of the things i found confusing about this morning are... WHY THE FUCK IS MY WINDOW OPEN, IT IS COLD AS HELL. secondly, why do i have a facebook message from a coed informing me that she was kicked out of box last night. who gets kicked out of box.... ever... homeless people hang out here. Why did i discover a panda backpack, stuffed animal thing on our couch. we don't have a lot of asians come over so i am at a loss. also... who is in brett's bed with him? lastly, who on earch baked brownied with banana's on top of them. i hope this was brought over. nothing has been baked at the box house in decades. i am really glad today is the first day of classes.

Update

It is now 8am. i think i stole someones new sperry's and left them my old ones last night

New Years Eve

2010-01-04T20:10:00.002-05:00

New Years Eve... always a classy night. I began the night with low hopes. I was informed that I would be spending the night with myself and 4 other couples at Cafe Habana in Ann Arbor. Thankfully I never had the awkward moment of who to kiss at midnight... I was unconscious by 11pm by the review of my text messages from the night. I remember arriving at the bar and ordering a number of caprihini's. Apparently it is just a bunch of liquor and sugar; they were delicious. After our party proceeded to offend everyone in the bar by blowing extremely annoying horns for an hour or so, i apparently decided that i had had enough of cafe habana and departed on foot. Judging by my wrist band that i found when i woke up, and a missing 30 dollars, it appears that i decided to go to studio 4... alone. I can only imagine how poorly that went. Sometime around 10:30 pm our dear friend Ross managed to discover me, staggering in the middle of the road, on state street by angel hall. After driving my pathetic ass home, i then attempted to become Emeril and cook a feast. When i woke up in the morning i discovered what i had created. There was an egg all over the stove, a pot of cooked noodles, and a crock pot full of green beans, butter, bread, and paprika. thank god, none of it was consumed. I didn't even bother to clean the cock pot, I just threw it away. Some say how you begin the new year determines how the following year will go. This is bad news to me...

Yet Another City Inspection Ends Well

2010-01-04T19:55:00.002-05:00

It was a typical Monday morning at BOX: The Wetness was preparing a story to tell his boss as to why he wasn't at work again, The Danimal was off to the Secretary of State to pay all of his parking tickets, I was off to go deal with legal troubles, Zola was on drugs, and the Friendly Neighborhood Drunk was already well on his way to another drunken afternoon -- which he has become famous for around these parts -- as he sincerely attempted to live up to his New Year's resolution of "man-ing up and drinking more" (I'm not sure this is humanly possible). And then there was a knock on the door. We had forgotten that today was the day the city inspector was to inspect the house.

Considering that the result of the last city inspection we had about a year ago resulted in a e-mail to the house stating that our house had a "Code G-2 Sanitation Violation," no one in BOX really had too high of hopes for this one. When I saw that his first move was to go downstairs to the basement, I knew we had no chance, especially considering that I had been using the basement as my own personal frustration outlet where I could throw bottles and break other appliances throughout football season.

The city inspector had two observations from his visit:
1.) 'You guys must really love Old Crow'. (yes we do)
2.) 'This is the dirtiest house I have ever seen in my time as an Ann Arbor city inspector'. (I know our house isn't clean, but really? I guess I'm kind of impressed). At any rate, he informed us that he would be returning next Monday, and if our house wasn't clean by then, we would all be issued misdemeanors and we would be evicted from the property. Al tried to offer him a beer, but I don't think that helped.

An Up and Down Fall Semester

2009-12-22T18:50:00.004-05:00

It has been just over a month since the last blog post has been made (Craig's blackout poem crafted during the all night Ohio State pregame), and while this blog is on its last leg, its not officially dead yet, which leaves me with an opportunity to look back on the semester.

When I got to thinking about this fall, I couldn't really come to a consensus on whether or not it was a good or bad semester. I realized that this is because it truly has been a semester of extreme highs and extreme lows. And you can't really say that the semester ultimately finishes somewhere in the middle, because it just doesn't feel like that kind of semester. It was either bad or great:

Exhibit A: BOX. BOX house gained much fame over the semester, as the house was featured time and again in the Michigan Daily, on Mgoblog, on television, etc. Both of our signs condemning the Detroit Free Press (1 being "Rosenberg Punches Dolphins, and 2 being "Sharp Condones Sea Mammal Abuse") were front page on Mgoblog, making me prouder than ever to be part of BOX. This high was tempered with the stark realization that BOX house officially would cease to exist. We'd been hanging onto threads for a while, but it was still a sobering thought to realize that the house had officially been passed on to other students.
Exhibit B: Michigan football. In my memory, the semester began that sunday morning when the message boards started leaking out about the Freep making allegations against Michigan football practicing too much. This ignited in all of us a backlash against the jokers that published this garbage, and also a strong support for Rich Rod and company. After the first 4 games of the season, it seemed, our steadfast support seemed to be rewarded. It was, once again, great to be a wolverine. This high was completely and utterly destroyed, especially when we lost to the likes of Illinois. We dropped as low as we possibly could, becoming the worst team in the entire big 10 and leaving the seniors of the house watching (this does not apply to Al, as he was unconscious at the time) as the buckeyes beat us, securing our fate as a graduating class winless against our archrivals.
Exhibit C: People in the house. The high point of this exhibit is without a doubt the new arrivals: Drew and Dan. They've exceeded expectations and are what I would consider quintessential BOX people. No one would argue that any of us didn't live the dream this semester. We did our fair share of partying, but for me at least, the attitude of living like an alcoholic and not facing any of the consequences died a bit this semester. The Wetness' hospitilization and near-death experience, forcing him to drop out for the semester, was the first sobering event of the year. The Friendly Neighborhood Drunk's diagnosis was even more sobering, because it was proof that our lifestyle actually isn't that healthy, giving me reason to believe that I'm probably heading down the same path as him in the not so distant future. And finally, just when I thought I had my career path on track after succeeding on the LSAT, I went and put it all in jeopardy after a couple of run-ins with the law. I know for us three at least, these moments were the first time in college that anything actually stood in the way of our live-the-dream-at-all-times mentality. Don't get me wrong, no one is saying we're ever going to give up our lifestyle anytime soon, but it was certainly the first hint that undergrad life actually does come to an end at some point.
Exhibit D: Was anyone not pumped for basketball to be ranked in the preseason top 25 for the first time since 97? It promised to be a season of tailgating, cursing out referees and opposing players, and a highly entertaining and successful season that would once again remove the bad taste left in our mouths after another dismal football season. What could have been the best sports team our graduating class had in all of our 4 years quickly disappointed, though. Barring a stellar big ten record, they've already eliminated themselves from the tournament. Awesome.

It certainly wasn't an uneventful semester. But I wouldn't want to look back and have that be my last semester of college, that's for sure -- far too many low points. Let's hope Winter Semester will be free of hospital visits, liver failures, and criminal charges, and full of good spirits and plentiful beverages. After all, we need to send out BOX on a good note.

Ode to Michigan

2009-11-21T03:49:00.008-05:00

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
Paul 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!!!!!!!!!

Playoffs?

2009-11-20T11:40:00.002-05:00

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.

BOX man breaks up with a girl

2009-11-15T18:12:00.003-05:00

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.

R.I.P. A lot of Things

2009-11-15T05:09:00.002-05:00

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.

Foliage Month

2009-11-07T08:08:00.000-05:00

It's official foliage month. Are you celebrating?

Challenge Issued: Part II: Note on Subject

2009-10-30T07:41:00.004-04:00

As "The Aryan" (former BOX resident and current BOX world championship title weight belt holder + world's most awesome man -- Stefan) put it, he has been living on our couch for several days (during which time he has most certainly contracted AIDS, syphillis, ghonnorea, and herpes from the couch alone) thus making him the biggest drinker in the house. Certainly, the man has sufficient grounds on which to make his claim. Not only did he dominate BOX drinking for years during his time at UofM, but he has returned with a vengeance to outdrink every human being in Ann Arbor this week. I believe he has issued a full challenge to PLC. I see no reason why this challenge should not coincide with the Danimal and I's challenge. No one ever complained about a 4 person blackout...its a fact. (PLC is certainly the best in-house drinker in terms of quantity (thusfar unchallenged), but it would certainly be fun to see a matchup between he and Stefan anyways, especially being as both of them are hilarious blackouters).

Perhaps a preface to explain how Stefan got to be in this position (I don't know how you can get more alcoholic than this): Stefan joined a large group of about 20 recent graduates of UofM in returning to Ann Arbor for the Michigan -Penn State game. All returnees enjoyed a glorious blackout friday night and certainly Saturday morning at the tailgate. This is where Stefan says that he is a better man than the other 20 people. While all of the other 20 people returned to their various homes of Seattle, New Jersey, Texas, Connecticut, the Ohio border patrol, or whatever part of the country they happened to be employed in, Stefan made a power move. (Power move: any move that facilitates excessive drinking (look it up in the dictionary, its there)).

Indeed, while most visitors were flying home or driving home, Stefan decided that he could use perhaps one more day of vacation leave, and hence he would black out all of Sunday through the night. As your author, I cannot say that I witnessed the actions that occured Sunday night. But from what I have gathered through the grape vine, I'd say the story goes somewhat like this: Dan steals chair from law quad --> Stefan blacks out --> Stefan punches solid oak law quad chair until point of destruction --> remainders of law quad chair put in street to be run over (in place of fruit in the street) --> Stefan wakes up to find that his hand is indeed broken --> Stefan promptly calls work to inform them that he cannot drive back to Philly because his hand is broken (in other words, he inform his boss that he will literally be blacking out the next 7 days of the week) --> Stefan proceeds to be the man --> Stefan and I wind up somewhere in Bumblefuck, Ann Arbor, this evening, walking home in the rain.

If you're looking for a definition of BOX, look no further than the man, the myth, the legend: Stefan aka The Aryan (he still has the weekend left, which most likely will feature the strongest blackouts yet).

p.s. from Brick again.

Challenge Issued: Part II

2009-10-30T00:47:00.003-04:00

As you may remember from the month of July (or sometime), the once BOX resident Pete and I challenged each other for the position of second biggest drinker in BOX house. I will make no excuses for my performance in said competition. I drank a mere 2 CSI's and passed out. An abissmal performance by all accounts. Embarrassment is really the only thing that can describe how I feel about that performance.

Today the Danimal's friend from the great state of Colorado arrived and promptly admired the booze-covered household and asked, 'so who's the best drinker around here?'. While the Notorious PLC remains the unchallenged belt-holder, this ignited yet another battle for 2nd best drinker in the house. Since Pete and B-Russ are now gone (whom I will still challenge to a rematch anyday), the title of 2nd best drinker has come down to a newcomer - Dan - and myself. This time, the beverage choice has been chosen by a blackout-Dan, and it is to be Old Crow. 6 hours will determine the winner.

Let the best drinker win.

p.s. - from Brick

Man in Bear Suit at it Again

2009-10-29T23:53:00.002-04:00

Please note the man in the bear suit, perhaps the living symbol of BOX himself:

http://msn.foxsports.com/video?vid=aa642605-6cd1-4c38-a85d-f24cfdf3e8df

That Just Happened

2009-10-29T23:36:00.004-04:00

Soo today was one of the more interesting days I have experienced in my life. I am currently very drunk using Brick's computer to let you all know what happened today. It all started when I talked to the Zolameister at about 3.20 today. That motherfucker had just bought a Halloween three pack and I was soo excited to watch it. Good lord, no one knew what was in store. About 5 minutes later, a good man happened to call me and say my presence was required at Chucks. Unable to turn that offer down I headed there. Once I walked in, I was immediately informed I needed to order a "Shit Tooth" from the bar which is essentially a giant mason gar full of 151. After that we were chilling in the lounge when I was told that it was necessary for us to head to Deja Vu. At first I was somewhat hesitant because I had never been to a strip club before. But I deemed it was absolutely necessary because you only get a chance like this once in your fucking life. So, once we decide to go to the Vu, our buddy pulls probably the most aggressive move in history and hooks us up with the BTB party bus to drive us to Ypsilanti with numerous cocktails in hand. After chugging said cocktails we stumbled upon the glorious establishment that is Deja Vu. To be honest I think we all thought the only thing we would see were C-Section scars and bullet wounds but we were PLEASANTLY mistaken. There was a phenomenal crew out there with the exception of one girl and at least she had big tits. So we are chilling at the Vu and then I realize, "wow, I need to bomb." So I head to the bathroom and I just don't have the ability to make it to a toilet. I end up vomiting in a goddamn stall. Yes, my angel hair pasta is clearly visible in the urinal and I'm just a failure at life. To be honest, I am really hammered and this was these were the most important parts of the story so I hope you enjoyed the fact that myself and the boys just made egregious mistakes together. Live the dream folks. Live the dream.

Not a Homeless Shelter

2009-10-25T17:57:00.002-04:00

To the person who so kindly left a large bin of food and body spray on our porch this morning: While I know that we might look like a group of vagrants -- judging by our disheveled appearances at times, our rather obvious tendency to overconsume alcohol, and our general dont-give-a-shit approach to life -- this home is not in fact a homeless shelter. Still, your concern for our well-being is much appreciated. We consumed most of the food (albeit expired food) rather quickly.

New Poll: Returning BOX Alumnus

2009-10-22T15:33:00.002-04:00

It has officially been determined by the readers that the favorite thing to do while blackout at BOX is hazing Zola. While playing fruit in the street - a game which involves throwing basically any food (originally fruit) into State Street, and chugging your beverage when a car runs it over - putting your life in jeopardy, and breaking things were quite popular choices, hazing Zola turned out to be simply too much fun. I have a feeling that all of these things will be done this weekend.

The new poll centers on the numerous now real-world people returning this weekend for what will be an epic Penn State tailgate and game. A BOX member has gone to jail at the last two football games, and while it would be great to be able to break that streak this weekend, I'm just not sure how likely it is. Things are going to get silly.

Drink up.

7:21 a.m.

2009-10-17T07:27:00.002-04:00

It's 7:21 a.m. and we've had three people puke and rally, have you?

7:43 update: its now five people, if you count me twice.

Worried

2009-10-16T11:52:00.002-04:00

The Wetness Returns in Full Force!

Needless to say, the title of this post is in response to his health and mine. The celebration for this event needs to be nothing less than blackout. If you read this blog, enjoy his reinstatement to drunken debauchery with us. He wasn't suppose to drink for several more weeks, but his immune system is similar to Arnold Schwarzenegger in Commando.

I miss getting so drunk that I...

2009-10-16T08:45:00.002-04:00

Creepily attempt to braid girls hair against their will.
Wake up on Greenwood.
Ask girls on dates to the Red Lobster.
Try to fight the offensive line at Charlies.
Vomit out of my window.
Wake up in Brett's bed spooning... While there are two girls in my bed.
Show up at quickie Burger with no money.
Get naked in public.
Can't get an erection.
Don't know where I am when I wake up.
Throw a Ramen noodle party.
Eat handfuls of ground beef with Paul.
Listen to the Fray.
Fall down both sets of BOX stairs.
Almost double team a girl with Brick.
Do the inspector gadget.

An Apparent Pissing

2009-10-15T16:58:00.002-04:00

EDIT:
But does it beat Brett pissing himself nearly 18 months ago?

-Brian

Hello Everyone

2009-10-15T00:59:00.002-04:00

Well, since I'm goddamn near blackout I figured that this would be the finest situation to make my first goddamn post. I've been allowed to post on here for weeks and as of yet I have not so I feel somewhat guilty because of this. Well folks, I'm hammered; and after this post I'm heading to BOX to get even drunker so I'll keep things short and precise. I hope anyone who has ever gone to college has had the chance to experience the things that I have at this wonderful place called BOX. Whether it's Al and James P wearing loinclothes scaring off the star QB of our football team or Brick breaking shit in the basement after a disappointing showing I know that all I want to do is live in this dream for the rest of my life. I hope that all these readers understand what BOX stands for and that they live the lifestyle that all BOX members and a few others get down with. It's late, but I'm about to bag a couple of Busch heavy's and take the long and arduous to BOX to get blackout, and hopefully when the fellas get back we can drink more, throw in a dip, and just live the way life is meant to be lived. I love you all and hopefully I'll be able to keep you updated with the going ons at BOX and let you all understand what it is to be a man. For now, take it easy and I'm sure you all will be here for the motherfucking tailgate on Saturday when WE all get smashed and let what may be will be. Love you all and thanks to BOX for giving me permission to let you all know how I live.

Sincerely,
The Friendly Neighborhood Drunk

Drunkest Man in America

2009-10-14T10:07:00.004-04:00

There is a never-ending game we like to play here called "Drunkest Man in America". The game is simple: at any given point in any day, you drink and drink some more in an attempt to be the drunkest man in America at that time. The best thing about the game is that you don't even need anyone to play with you, for the title of drunkest man in America is always up for grabs. The other best part about the game is that there are no losers, for even though you essentially cannot win, you will undoubtedly wind up with a high level of inebriation.

We used to have a trophy here at BOX that was given to the drunkest man in BOX house at any given time. It could usually only be won by some act of debauchery that screamed out 'I'm blackout,' but just as easily could be handed off to the next man if he could somehow top the previous man's drunken behavior. Needless to say, the trophy suffered from constant drunken destruction and soon was out of commission.

The Drunkest Man game has been utilized little so far this year, but one act that occurred this past weekend reminded me of the glory this game could bring to one, and it has inspired me to renew the Drunkest Man game to new heights. This weekend, a BOX man who will remain nameless traveled west to Iowa for the football game. After what must have been a satisfactory amount of beers, this man wound up in the local jail, where it is rumored that his .333 blood alcohol content was pronounced to be "the highest BAC blown in town that entire weekend". Surely this man is probably not proud of this honor, but I am here to be proud for him. That is the definition of winning the drunkest man trophy.

Inspired by these courageous actions, I'm going to try and renew the Drunkest Man in BOX game. I'll try to post an update after each weekend naming the award-winner for that particular weekend, and then we can tally them up for when the 1st Semester Drunk awards come out.

To give you an example: Zola won the Drunkest Man in BOX game last night, judging from how he woke up on the floor using his laundry basket as his pillow this morning.

Let the race begin.

Your Favorite Tailgate Tradition?

2009-10-09T05:00:00.002-04:00

Amongst the many hallowed traditions sacred to the BOX house on football Saturdays, the blog readers have voted that "field goal over the street light" is the favorite of all the gameday traditions. If you are a concerned reader, do not fret. I , too, was skeptical of allowing field goals to win over "blacking out before 10:00 a.m.". However, while I myself (Brick) voted for the blackout, I truly believe that others were voting for true "traditions". Let's be honest, at BOX, blacking out is no tradition, it's ritual, everyday routine. Kicking field goals (and even Thunderstruck, Keg Laps, etd.) is exclusive to football Saturdays. In other words, blacking out is expected, but field goal kicking can only happen on the eight greatest days of the year (for you dumbasses, the eight greatest holidays of the year are the football saturdays in Ann Arbor). Therefore, I endorse field goal kicking as the greatest tradition to BOX football Saturdays.

Not only does field goal kicking above the State and Hoover street signs qualify as a true tradition, but it can also be combined with the choice of "blacking out before 10 a.m.", considering that most all field goal kicks are completed before 10 a.m. Personally, I fully endorse blacking out circa 8 or 9 a.m. and then kicking the field goal -- both worlds are pleased.

GO BLUE.

Likes and Dislikes

2009-10-08T21:37:00.003-04:00

Since I am boring and my life is uneventful, this post is dedicated to letting everyone know exactly what my likes and dislikes are. Enjoy.

Likes:
Talons
Jaffar
Eddie Money
Breakfast Hot Pockets
Glaciers
Roosters
William Tecumseh Sherman
Kinex
Gorgonites
Galgamecks
Chisels
The Jacksonian Era
Bangkok
Quilts
Jackhammers
Air Force One (the movie)
Sam Neill
Anyone with an O and an apostrophe to start their last name
Silly nicknames for genitals of both kinds
Big Things

Dislikes:
Jamborees
Chimes
Primates
Frisbees
Bearenstein Bears
Stained Glass
Philadelphia
Chris Pronger
Vegans
Henry Thoreau
Alchemy
Lazy Susans
Reeds/Cattails/Long Grass
Pulley Systems
Entomology
Flubber
Technology
Scandinavia
Broadsides
Options

The Sober Life

2009-10-04T01:51:00.003-04:00

So the sober life is pretty much the worst thing in the world. It all began with a staph infection that was misdiagnosed twice by a couple of moron's at the UM hospital ER. They told me that I had the flu and a pulled groin. Unable to walk the next day without assistance and having a fever of 104 for the 3rd consecutive day, I went back to the hospital where they told me I had a hernia and the flu. They sent me home with a big bottle of pain killers and told me to wait for the surgery team to call me to set up my hernia surgery. In reality they told me to go home and die in my bed, because that is exactly what would have happened without divine (Ross Drath) intervention. Ross drove me to Grand Rapids so that I could see a doctor for my hernia surgery that day rather than waiting two weeks to see the doctor in Ann Arbor. It took the doctor about 45 seconds to inform me that I did not have a hernia and that I should go to the emergency room and get a cat scan. What the cat scan discovered were two massive abscesses filled with staph bacteria. Without medical intervention I had roughly 3 to 4 days to live. Thanks a lot UM. So After an 8 day hospital stay , a couple surgery type deals, and a miserable time I got released with an IV stuck in my arm pumping me full of antibiotics for the next 3 weeks. Fuck my life.

The only advantage of this new found sober state is that I am able to chronicle the hilarity of others. For example, last night I received a text message from my dearest bricky bear at 11:20pm stating, "And a jay z song was on!" I don't know whether to be proud or embarrassed that I immediately recognized it as a line from the song Party in the U.S.A. by Miley Cyrus. He immediately followed that text message up by informing me that, "This aint a nashville party." Truer words have never been spoken. Brick and I also conversed at 4am when he informed me that he was in a house watching South Park, snorting adderall and was not positive whose house it was. It was a beautiful night.

Also in current news, I just received this gem of a text message from my sweet Gina after apparently taking my advice from last night and consuming an Extreme Danger Dane from Charlies. "I biologie i cant still jl I'm so drunk. You're aperone :-)" I do not have any idea what that means, but texts like this are what happens when you consume a large class full of nothing but four different kinds of Stoli.

Readers Choice: Your Favorite Alcoholic Beverage

2009-10-01T12:30:00.002-04:00

Our inaugural poll has officially closed; the results are relatively unsurprising. Old Crow was the runaway favorite as your drink of choice at BOX, although Natty Ice and Camo Silver Ice had strong showings as well.

This week's poll: your favorite gameday tradition.

Enjoy your booze this weekend.

The Drunken Mile

2009-09-30T14:14:00.002-04:00

Some time at the end of last year while hanging out on the porch of BOX I was approached by a couple of gentleman from the track team who invited me to participate in something they called the drunken mile. I told the men that I would love to attend, however this event did not begin until midnight. In retrospect that may have been my downfall. Instead of resting up and preparing for whatever awaited me, (the only thing I knew was to show up at the track with a 6-pack at midnight) I went out with everyone and was quite hammered by the time 11:45 rolled around. I recruited Craig to join in with me, and Craig, Stephanie, and myself headed off to the track with a 12 pack and belly's full of liquor. When we arrived there were at least 20 participants decked out in full running attire. I was wearing jeans, a polo, and flip flops. The rules of the competition were simple.... Chug a beer, run a lap, chug a beer, run a lap, chug a beer, run a lap, chug a beer, run a lap. On an empty stomach this would be pretty easy, but after drinking for 4 hours, things got difficult. Stephanie may have consumed half to three quarters of a beer and run a lap or two before graciously bowing out. At least there was some effort put in. Craig projectile vomited after 3/4 of his first lap and also declared himself a loser, however Craig and myself were by far the drunkest people in attendance. As for my race, I started quite strong. In retrospect I may have been cheating considering that I was shotgunning my beers but that is neither here nor there. Going into the fourth and final lap I had a very slight lead in the competition, even though I can guarantee I was the slowest runner in attendance, the shotgunning was key. About 100 yards into my final lap disaster struck. I found a sewer drain, got on all fours and proceeded to spend at least three minutes vomiting my guts out. I tried to get up midway through and continue the race, but was forced about 6 feet later to stop and continue vomiting. After I stopped voming, I noticed that of all the participants still running, I was in last place. I of course decided to try and cheat by cutting across the long jump pit and the grass in the middle of the track. A brilliant plan except it was dark and that wasn't sand, it was the steeplechase pit and I fell into a two foot deep puddle of water. As i crossed the finish line, soaking wet and in dead last I was proud of the showing BOX had presented there. We can only hope the smell of Craig's and my vomit still lingers whenever Andy's sister runs past that stretch of track.

Back In The Game

2009-09-30T14:05:00.002-04:00

So as you may know I spent quite some time being a bit of a "queer-o-sexual" and have not been blogging. With the current illness that has ravaged my body and taken away my ability to partake in God's sweetest gift to man (alcoholic beverages) for four weeks, I have nothing better than to resume my blogging. Over the next few weeks I will try to recall all of my blog-worthy drunken humiliations over the past year. I apologize to BOX Nation for being so worthless for so long.

U of M Chron-dog Students

2009-09-29T09:22:00.003-04:00

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/event.php?eid=140092717332&index=1

This link will take you to a facebook event urging students to protest Kristen Larcom' horseshit. I'm not even in support of a "Protest" that will supposedly better the State Street Tailgate situation. I'd rather we just continue on tailgating rowdily as if nothing ever happened. I do admire the intentions, though.

A couple of students however, feel that Kristen Larcom is in the right, and they have voiced their opinions on the wall of said event...So, if you have time, please visit this facebook group and proceed to harass the shit out of "Steve Briscoe" and "Daniel Montgomery". Anyone that's willing to support the decline of State Street tailgates deserves to feel like a two year old whining for his mom. I've already got the ball rolling by specifically calling these fags out, but I hope that you all can use your creativity to make sure these kids regret that they ever came to Michigan (a football school first, an academic institution second).

This angry message was brought to you by zero hours of sleep, excessive adderall consumption, the Danimal, and rum & cider.

Beat State.

Diamonds in the Rough

2009-09-29T02:26:00.005-04:00

Well into the month of July, it appeared as if it would be a mere six members of BOX holding down the fort -- the lowest number probably ever inhabiting the institution. However, thanks to the dutiful work of the Notiorius PLC, BOX acquired its two newest members via Craigslist advertising. Craigslist? Yes, the BOX veterans were extremely skeptical, your author being no exception. I imagined that our next two roommates would be disgusted with the alcoholism that runs rampant throughout BOX, I imagined they would be disgusted with the state of the house post-tailgate, and I imagined we would reluctantly have to consider them BOX members.

I stand 110% corrected in my expectations. The two men that eventually showed up and boldly desired to live at the shithole could not have been farther from my expectations. In all seriousness, if we would have recruited hardcore, looking for someone who truly fit in at BOX, there is no way we would have found two better BOX members:

Exhibit a: Drew. First tailgate, he blacked out, passed out in his bed, and had his laptop stolen while he was unconcscious. That's BOX as fuck (that actually sucks, but I'm referencing Pete here). When Al went down to staff infection (which orginally was a hernia, and before that was the swine flu), Drew took over all Fri-Gay responsibilities. I consider myself pretty BOX, but I can't even bring myself to participate in Fri-Gay; it takes a hardcore BOX man to get drunk and pound stakes in the ground in nothing but your boxers while others spray the hose on you. If you can Fri-Gay, you're BOX, no questions asked. There are certain other radically awesome things about Drew that I'll refrain from writing, but if you've met the guy, you know he's awesome, and 100% BOX material.

Exhibit b: The Danimal. Dan is a drunk, and we are all drunks. We quickly learned he was a drunk when he walked into BOX one day and matched the tolerance levels required during the Old Crow Challenge with ease the next day. How he didn't find BOX before is a question for the gods. But there is no doubt that Dan is the epitome of BOX.

The main idea of my post revolves around the fact that Dan and I are currently sitting in the basement of the Michigan Union, circa 3:06 a.m. in the morning on this random Monday evening, snorting adderall out of a winter cap, Dan is drinking a beer out of a coozie, and we are both sharing a water bottle filled with Rum and cider.

What I'm getting at is... It was no coincedence that Dan (and Drew) found the BOX house on Craigslist. No sir-ee. I fully believe that fate plays a strong role in how one ends up in BOX (After all, getting kicked out of my fraternity was one of the best things to happen to me... seeing as how I ended up in BOX. Who would of thought a semester in the BOX basement was the beginning of the best phase of my life?). Just as it was for Andy and I, fate was at work when it brought Dan and Drew - the two diamonds in the rough - to the hallowed grounds of 933 State. When I try to imagine how the '09 football season would have started without the duo, I literally draw a blank. They have contributed so much already, and fit into the BOX mold right down to the minute details. I'm proud to call them my BOX brothers, as I am everyone who has ever lived here. The year can only get better.

I emphasize my closing statement in today's earlier post: BEAT THE FUCK OUT OF SPARTY. GO BLUE.

More Media Coverage

2009-09-28T10:46:00.006-04:00

We've made yet another appearance in the Michigan Daily today:

http://michigandaily.com/content/sportsmonday-column-football-saturdays-just-not-same-without-box-house

The media attention we've received lately is unprecedented. Unfortunately, this article isn't exactly a feel-good story.

I wasn't at this Saturday's tailgate. As Ross so aptly put it, he and I both were "giving ourselves one last chance at a career". But the reviews I got from my fellow housemates were dismal. And this article seems to top off that sentiment. I think it's partially understandable, given the circumstances (most of the frats on State St. moved their tailgates completely), that this last tailgate was less than stellar.

What's not understandable is the lack of whole-hearted participation by a lot of regulars at the tailgates. I can maybe understand if not everyone wants to wake up at 5:30 a.m. to celebrate one of the eight greatest days of the year. But I don't quite understand why there was only about 7 people at the house when I left for my test at 8 a.m. What I'm trying to say is, if you're a reader of this blog, you and I both need to do everything in our power to make sure that there are about 25 people here at 5:30 a.m. for the next tailgate. Let's make it an absolutely ridiculous tailgate. It is, after all Delaware State next up - so get blackout at 7 a.m, make a fool of yourself, don't make it to the game. We need to prove this article wrong. BOX tailgates certainly are not dead. I think this is evident from the post-game tailgate we had following the Indiana win. There were tons of people getting extremely rowdy. We just need to concentrate these same efforts at 5:30 in the morning next tailgate.

"Marching Band, Go Blue Banner, Winged Helmets, BOX House — taking in the wildness surrounding the 900 block of State St. is a vital part of the Michigan game-day experience." - taken from the Daily article. We have some big expectations to live up to. I fully expect to live up to our tradition next tailgate.

Unfortunately, we have two away games to wait through before we can tailgate here once again.

Beat State.
<3 Brick

Introducing the Friendly Neighborhood Drunk

2009-09-24T17:16:00.003-04:00

If you're a follower of this blog, you probably have noticed that it's not so much of a BOX blog as it is a Paul and Brick blog. Partly because of this, but mostly because he stands for everything the BOX is, I would like to introduce the newest contributor to your favorite drinking blog: "The Friendly Neighborhood Drunk" aka Chris. His drinking prowess has been detailed many times before, but I feel that his own personal account of what happened to him during the Eastern Michigan tailgate is an appropriate way of introducing him, not to mention completely hilarious.

In lieu of the recent attempts made by the city attorney of Ann Arbor to tame our tailgates, I suggest that you all attempt to get as silly this Saturday as the Friendly Neighborhood Drunk did this past tailgate (in his own words):

"Well folks, I really don't know if I should be proud or appalled by my actions that occurred Saturday for the Michigan-Eastern Michigan game. It all really started the night before. Originally I had planned to stay up all night with Brick drinking and Friday would collide into Saturday. While our plans crashed and burned, it was still a somewhat memorable tailgate. I came dangerously close to blacking out Friday and passed out at midnight. I awoke, still drunk, anticipating the day ahead at 2am and could not sleep. So of course I took a shower and was off to BOX. Seeing as no one was up when I arrived at 2.45, I decided I might as well start drinking and check out what was on the tube. I dusted off the trusty half gallon I had hidden there the night before and began to consume. I first watched the end of the epically terrible Alien Sex Files 3 on HBO. At the end of that I threw on Jurassic Park and continued to drink. It is a tradition at BOX to awaken the house at 5.30am with the song Du Hast. I could hardly wait. Too much excitement, too much anticipation...TOO MUCH ALCOHOL. My last memory of that day happened while dancing to Du Hast. When I came to, it was 8.15am on Sunday and I lost a complete day to drinking. I had absolutely zero recollections of the day. I am not sure if this is a high or low point in my life. It was fun to hear stories about what happened. Apparently I attempted to destroy a computer monitor, which NotoriousPLC hastily stopped. I failed at kicking two field goals. I destroyed the drunkest man in America trophy. I was dancing up and down State St. with said trophy using it as a paddle for my imaginary canoe. I ended up with 20 more dollars in my wallet but 60 dollars less in my bank account. Only a higher being truly knows what happened to me all day, but at least when I woke up, I had an empty fifth that I could not recognize by my bed. I think this is a testament of what drinking can do to your knowledge. I came to this college with a solid 3.93 gpa in High school and 3.5 at Kansas. My current gpa is 2.6. I didn't start this lifestyle until attending Michigan. But ya know what they always say; "get your degree and your gpa won't mean shit." Well, unless you plan on going to grad school. Oh well, I'm living the dream and I wish everyone could know the joy it brings me. Until next time readers, take it easy."

In the Daily

2009-09-24T11:21:00.000-04:00

http://www.michigandaily.com/content/city-attorneys-office-threatens-box-house-other-state-street-tailgates

Out there kicking some ass...

City Attorney's Office vs State St.

2009-09-22T19:05:00.003-04:00

Today, houses along State St., including of course your true favorite BOX house, received a cease and desist letter from the City Attorney's Office of Ann Arbor. In true BOX fashion, we will be fighting this and plan on tailgating just as hard Saturday morning. As soon as I know more about this I will immediately make another blogpost.

Fencing

2009-09-20T22:15:00.002-04:00

A new activity has consumed BOX's attention over the course of the past few weeks. The University of Michigan has a fencing club that is significantly large (I was unaware of the sport's popularity amongst students apparently). 3 roommates have gone to the practices, and 1 has shown particular interest in the team's one remaining traveling position. The hilarity really comes into view watching the 3 of them limp home after the 2 hour strength and conditioning sessions. 3 men who haven't worked out in literally years were exposed to wall sits, manual squats and other aerobics that their bodies simply are not accustomed to. While sitting on our couch's of shame and hepatitis, I enjoy watching grimacing faces walk through the door. The Danimal's motivation has clearly wained however, and I would not be surprised if we ceased to see him attending many more of the practices. While I personally have little knowledge as to scoring and technique of the sport, the notion of swinging a big saber (note: funny possible dick reference) and pouncing about makes me giggle especially knowing what these men do in their off time. In short, BOX will be competing for the remaining traveling position on the fencing team. Certainly for our followers outside of Ann Arbor, you will all be kept in touch as to whether we get any of our terrible gentlemen on the team.

Return of a Legend

2009-09-18T17:57:00.002-04:00

Given the history of old BOX members returning to Ann Arbor to cause destruction to the home, BOX is currently bracing itself - for the notorious Bill Nye perpetrator is flying in from Seattle for the football game this weekend.

No one truly knows what causes BOX alumnus to want to create such chaos upon return to the house. Perhaps it is an attempt to relive college memories when one simply disregarded all societal standards and destroyed the home in fits of drunken stupors, or perhaps it is just an attempt to make the current residents miserable when they are forced to clean up after the havoc. But one way or the other, alumnus destruction to the home has become somewhat of a tradition around these parts. In fact, just last week many of old Box members returned to Ann Arbor to watch Tate Forcier destroy the Irish, and sure enough, when I returned home Sunday morning I was startled and confused when I looked to my roof to find that all of our couches had been relocated there (God knows how). Last tailgate season, someone decided to defecate in the basement, while others took a lesser route and just stabbed pizza slices into the walls with knives.

Thus, while we are giddy in the trousers to consume plentiful portions of alcohol with our long-lost BOX friend, we are certainly going to be on the lookout for the man to pull a few tricks out of his hat.

Go blue.

A Tale of Two Tailgate Seasons

2009-09-14T21:01:00.006-04:00

(This post deals more with Michigan football than with BOX related material, but I figure I'll write it anyways)

When my little seven year old self was sitting in the Big House for the first time in 1995, and Scott Dreisbach miraculously connected with Mercury Hayes in the end zone in the final seconds of the game to beat Virginia, the Wolverine faithful erupted in joy, and I knew then and there that I would be a Michigan fan for the rest of my life. Saturdays became my favorite day of the week, offering me the opportunity to watch the maize and blue. My life was Michigan football. I shed tears of joy in 1997 as Charles Woodson ran a kickoff back against Ohio State, sending Michigan to the Rose Bowl and a national championship season. I shed tears of pain when the following season didn't quite live up to that one special season. But one way or the other, Michigan football was always there for me.

Flash forward to my twenty year old self, and the picture isn't so pretty. In fact, it's essentially me blackout beyond belief, probably throwing up in the stadium during the Wisco game or simply passed out during a game I have a ticket to, frankly because I didn't care. Last year, Michigan football didn't seem to be there for me. The worst season in Michigan football history was hard to endure. It wore away at the very core of my Michigan heart. At times it seemed that the Michigan I once knew and loved would never be the same. After the final game, an atrocious loss to our biggest rival, I walked out of the Horseshoe with tears in my eyes (as drunk as I might have been) and I wondered what had happened to Michigan football.

And so last year was literally dedicated entirely to tailgating. Whether it was a conscious effort or not, many tailgaters, particularly myself, made a strong effort to black out before 10 in the morning. Whether or not I made it to the game really didn't matter - for the first time in my life. I can't speak for everyone, but I know many BOX tailgaters didn't make it to much football. The Notorious PLC made it to two quarters of football, for crying out loud. If we did make it to the games, it was probably after the first quarter, just so we could get in an extra half hour of drinking. I wouldn't trade that tailgate season for the world - though I literally don't remember a whole lot from any of it - but there was something missing in the back of all of our minds.

How a year can change things. This tailgate season has almost been scary, considering we are basically a group of alcoholics. You'll see people pacing themselves, making sure that they will make it to the game. You'll see people leaving 45 (!) minutes before the game, wanting to see the team run out of that tunnel for the first time in four years. Hell, PLC has already surpassed his total amount of football seen at the Big House last year. Would anyone have believed me before the season if I told you that not only PLC, not only Al, not only me, but even the Friendly Neighborhood drunk has not missed a minute of football yet this year (this will probably change come this Saturday v.s. EMU, but you get the idea)?!? Don't get me wrong, the tailgates haven't been any worse, but there's certainly an added element to them this year. All because Michigan football is back.

I knew it when I saw Al outside of the stadium after the ND game, amidst a chorus of "It's great to be a Michigan wolverine," when I jumped into his arms and hugged him out of utter joy: the Rich Rod era has begun in Ann Arbor.

BOX in the News

2009-09-10T12:10:00.002-04:00

In perhaps what is the pinnacle of BOX's fame, the Detroit Free Press, in response to the above signs that we displayed during the Western Michigan tailgate, has personally attacked us... well, at least our signs. I'd suggest a visit to mgoblog.com for the full story - and also just to see a picture of our house, which is the leading story today on the popular site. Basically Drew Sharp, a writer at that shitty paper, said there were "reprehensible" signs, notably ours, which read "Rosenberg punches dolphins". I'd also reccomend reading all the comments, a lot of which are people saying how much they love our pregame antics, from the field goal kicking, to the costumes, to the debauchery. Read, enjoy, and be as proud as I am today to be in BOX.

When I first saw the picture on the website, I was jumping for joy, and really wanted to commence drinking immediately. It's truly a great day to be a BOX member. All I know is all this hype makes extra-amped for this Saturday's tailgate. I think this Saturday will get much rowdier than last.

Personally, I'm thinking that we make a sign that says "Sharp also punches dolphins" for this weekend's game, but we're open to suggestions.

Hospitality

2009-09-09T14:52:00.004-04:00

One week ago today, I was convinced by my friends at BOX to remain in Ann Arbor for just one more night. Their neighbors were having a jersey party, and it was surely going to be a great time. After many rounds of Old Crow shots I found myself next door and having a hell of a time. At some point during the night, I realized that nobody at this party was dancing, so I put on Michael Jackson's "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough," and started an instant dance party with the black chick I had been talking to. We began to dance like their was no tomorrow, and a few others joined in the fun. Suddenly, when the song was still less than a minute young, some ass changed the song to some Lady Gaga bullshit. I went over to the computer and saw none other than The Wetness, laughing his ass off with one hand on the computer mouse and the other around some hairy-legged bimbo's waist. I tried to change the song back but he wouldn't allow it, so I pushed him backward onto a nearby sofa, where he landed both softly and quite unhurt. He jumped up yelling obscenities and took a swing at me, landing a good blow right behind my left ear. I wasn't about to exchange punches with a close friend, so I quickly bear-hugged him to prevent anymore personal injury. I was mistaken, however, because in response to my hug he bit down hard on the front of my armpit, leaving a blue and slightly bloody circle which remains today. I then left the party and went back upstairs at BOX to use the bathroom and call it a night. Thirty seconds later, I heard the front door slam as loud as possible. It was Brick. And he was pissed off as hell. He screamed at me to pack up my shit and get the fuck out of his house for fighting The Wetness. I came back downstairs to face this drunken man. Before I could get a word out, however, we both turned toward the door as The Wetness himself entered, but not until after he squeezed a coffee cup in his hand and smashed it on the side of the house, causing a large gash in his own palm. He pointed at me and said, "LOOK WHAT YOU DID, ASSHOLE!" holding out his palm. "I'll let you stay tonight, because I'm such a good guy, but you're never allowed in this house again." "NOT EVER!" agreed Brick.

Sunday

2009-09-02T01:40:00.002-04:00

As I am fairly intoxicated, I've found it absolutely shocking that nothing has been mentioned about what happened Sunday after Brick's most recent post. I made a return trip from Michigan State and drove by the house at around 1 in the afternoon. My father dropped me off at a nearby street as I instructed considering I try to have parents avoid my living situation whenever possible. However, when I looked out the window of my father's Lincoln when we drove by, I saw a handful of people with cocktails and I laughed. After witnessing the same thing, my father then said: "I really like where you live." So, I walk up to the house seeing The Wetness in football pants (pads included) with shoulder pads and of course a Michigan football jersey over them. I also see a feminine partner that he has been spending "time" with and several other roommates very drunk wearing silly outfits. As the day progressed, I stayed sober due to a significant hangover and prior engagements. Yet, the best was yet to come. The Wetness and his female compadre were becoming increasingly bad. So as more and more male species began to arrive, the ratio became worse and more importantly outrageously hilarious. To cut to the chase, one thing led to another and we were all in the living room. The Wetness' friend began to climb on him and rub him and needless to say the rubbing was in a sexual manner. The two of them became increasingly physical and it was in front of a minimum of 8 other male members of BOX. As pants and shirts were unzipped and slowly removed, the thought of possible public sex became a real possibility perhaps even probability. This whole time, everyone in the room is filming with digital cameras and heckling in the most offensive ways possible. However, the climax of the interaction occurrs when someone makes a comment and The Wetness laughs mid makeout/foreplay causing cocktail to spray out of his nose (he had taken a swig only moments before the comment was made). He immediately jumped up caughing and laughing dropping her (she was on his lap during the public couch foreplay) onto the ground. This of course caused an eruption of laughter and general mockery of the situation. In short, the possibility of becoming a BOX legend by sexxing a girl in front of 8 dudes was failed as gin and juice was sprayed onto her face and the floor. To his defense, minutes later the deed was done upstairs in the privacy of his room.

Furious Brick

2009-08-30T09:32:00.003-04:00

FUCK THE DETROIT FREE PRESS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT JOURNALIST GARBAGE. THAT IS ALL.

What was once going to be a very productive Sunday for me has now turned into Al and I drinking gin and tonics at 9:30 a.m.

Collect 'Em All

2009-08-25T15:25:00.010-04:00

For the last two seasons, each of which I tried unsuccesfully to drink away all memory of Michigan football, I have been hearing phrases like, "Well the football team sucks, but at least we still have tailgating". And for the last two seasons, unfortunately, this has been true. A lot of focus has been taken away from the actual game experience and has been redirected towards the tailgate portion of the gameday, mostly in an attempt to blackout before the game so it would not be remembered.

One could say that the tailgater has been more heroic than the athlete these past two gruesome years. But when does the tailgater get any credit? Never. Until now.

To make up for this I give you the Tailgating trading card, starting with some of the finest tailgaters around: (in actuality, I created this out of sheer boredom in the day prior to the glorious day when I return to BOX for the year and the excitement leading up to the first tailgate, but you get the idea)

Card #1:
Name: "The Wetness"

Home: BOX
Drinking hand: Pulls right; Chases left
Gameday attire: More often than not, you will find The Wetness sporting the bear suit, with Obi Ezeh # 45 jersey over it. On hotter days, he might elect the Captain America costume, or just a good old pair of jorts.
Drink of choice: (see above) As he is allergic to most types of beer, this bear-suited tailgater has become a liquor-savvy drinker. He usually can be seen drinking extremely cheap handles of vodka, or on a good occasion, he will choose to drink the Blue Wave vodka.
Most likely to be heard saying: "[insert opposing team here] has AIDS!!"; "Would you like to come inside for a roofie-colada?"; or singing Enrique Eglasias tunes; "I would just like to tell Mike Hart that he's about as cool as Jesus"
Most likely to be seen doing: Running around in the nude; Giving vodka pulls to old men walking by on their way to the game; kicking field goals above the traffic lights upon waking up
Inside the Big House: Making offensive but hilarious cheers; cheering unwaveringly for his beloved Obi Ezeh

Card #2:
Name: Dave a.k.a. Buzz Light Year

Home: BOX Greenwood affiliate house

Drinking hand: Right

Gameday attire: Rain, shine, wind, snow, or tidal wave, he shows up, usually already hammered at 8 a.m., in the Buzz Light Year costume complete with Michigan football helmet.
Drink of choice: If I had to make an educated guess, I'm sure he does shots of vodka before showing up to the tailgate, then drinks beer while at the tailgate.
Most likely to be heard saying: "To infinity, and beyond!"
Most likely to be seen doing: Arriving on a motorcycle; jumping up and down on mattresses in the yard; flying off of the porch; Wandering aimlessly in the middle of State Street, attempting to direct traffic

Card #3:

Name: Chris aka "The Friendly Neighborhood Drunk"

Home: Once lived next door to BOX, what is now BOX Senior house. Currently, whereabouts unknown (somewhere on Packard, too far away)
Drinking hand: double-fists
Gameday attire: (see above) The gold sequined vest makes up the core of this tailgater's attire, but his fantasically crafted facial hair usually seals the deal (preferably mutton chops)
Drink of choice: Maker's mark. Last fall I remember he dropped a fifth, and after it smashed to the ground, he had a 10 minute long ceremony to mourn its loss - that's how much he revers alcohol.
Most likely to be heard saying: "Fuck it, let's go bowling!"; "FUCK MIZZOU!"'; "I'm DRUNKKKKKK!!!!" ; "BAYONETS!" (the capital letters indicate his loudness)
Most likely to be seen doing: Arriving before anyone else at 5 a.m. with a cocktail in hand; Screaming songs from the balcony of the front porch; chugging a fifth; dancing to Miley Cyrus; throwing utilities off of the roof; dumping a beer on himself
At the Big House: I'm pretty sure he doesn't make it to games

The Phoenix

2009-08-24T11:39:00.002-04:00

The Phoenix rises from the ashes and as I think about how 6 days from today the entire house will be moved in, I cannot help but draw the connection. Our letters will be put back up in the next few days, we will have a new computer for the kitchen and best of all we will be graced with many friends' return. Hopefully, the shirts will be here in a few days and our new and dearest neighbors will make their return as soon as possible. I also look forward to reeking havoc on our neighbors to the right considering they are from Sig Ep (that house's old tenants will be missed). I feel as though the house crew has alot of promise for next year and I hold a great deal of excitement for the prospects of tomfoolery. With returning veterans and the introduction of a couple greenhorns, I believe this year has the right chemistry to fulfill all that BOX stands for and truly represents. Farewell reader, a blackout beckons...

Counting Down to the Hallowed Tailgate Season

2009-08-21T15:11:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow morning at 5 a.m. marks the two week mark until the first tailgate of the year, when all morals and judgment are tossed to the curb and all hell breaks loose. As the days leading up to welcome week and football season continue to letargically drag on, there's not really much material worth posting. But I thought I'd share a tidbit or two that might make you happy in the trousers in anticipation of that first tailgate.

Last evening I attended a party at one of my high school friend's house. Amidst all the ingorant babbling about "Dick-Rod," Sparty's "dominance" in-state (haha), and Michigan's complete lack of values, two random girls informed me that they had been to a BOX tailgate last fall. In particular, they were very impressed by the "guy in the Buzz Light Year costume" and "the guy who was in a suit directing traffic all morning" and that they hoped to see them again.

To sum up the point of my post: Only 15 days until we get to see Buzz Light Year again! As for the man directing traffic, I can only hope someone can resume his duty in his absence. Cannot wait to see everyone again, cannot wait for Asians in banana suits, cannot wait for that first keg lap of the year... GO BLUE.

Where your tax dollars go

2009-08-17T22:05:00.004-04:00

So, as most of you may know, I am recently employed at a government agency in the west coast, and my life is undergoing drastic changes: Being sober on thursday night, getting up at 5:20, having less than 10 drinks at a bar, etc. Anyways, after being employed at said agency for a month now, I've come to realize that it is indeed hell. Now you might say, "Oh wow Bob, great choice with engineering yet again, you must be out of your gourd with all the work you have asshole." Well, I've come to find it's quite the opposite. The first two weeks here were just orientation which consisted of getting us set up with healthcare, internet accounts, retirement accounts and the like, while also teaching us of the history of the agency. I found this all well and good, very boring, but a necessary evil, I was sure it would pick up after, Jesus was I wrong. For the first week my workday consisted of four things: walking by my mentor while he looks at projects at the site, surfing the internet, reading reference manuals, and lunch. You will realize that none of these options is actual work. The only two that resemble work are walking by my mentor, which is just observing him work, and reading reference manuals, which is just busy work because they have NOTHING for me to do. Reference manuals suck...DONG. They describe processes that I have never seen before, so I am forced to imagine these machines doing god knows what, and I end up just dreaming of unicorns and figi. It's essentially reading in Italian: you kind of get a few of the words, but at the end of the day it's an entirely different language. So every day I ask my boss if he has any work for me, and every day he comes back with, "well...no, but you could read this manual!" Fuck. That. Shit.
Now at this point you might say "well Bob, you've always been lazy and shied away from responsibility, this should be great for you!" Sure, it would be great, but it goes on for 8 HOURS EVERY DAY. A man can only read so many reference manuals, and after checking mgoblog 10 times from 730 to 1130 I decided it was enough and devised a plan to add a key 5th element to my days...sleep. My cubicle is back in a little corner of the office, one opening, very little foot traffic due to the wall it is adjacent to. I found that with my back to my opening, there is no way anyone could see what I was doing, so I started putting my manual in my lap, resting my legs on the filing cabinet and doing whatever the hell I pleased, most notably napping.

Now as you can see from this picture I enclosed, asshat across from me probably thinks im just reading this manual in comfort, trying to make the best out of this situation, but what he doesn't realize is that the pages don't move. I probably sleep for 3 hours a workday now. Even when my mentor comes to get me when he wants me to tour the site, I just wake up and turn around, fresh as a krispy kreme, and no one's the wiser. When most people tell you about their job they're like "yeah, i just got this job, it's great, i don't do shit, i just microwave hot pockets," or some shit like that. I can tell you the government does not want hot pockets. I literally dont do SHIT. I have not done any work yet after working in my department for 2 weeks. I have done nothing that helps the government at all, no paperwork, no designs, NOTHING. I read, i follow, that is all that is required of me, so let's do the math! I have been working here for 4 weeks, and on friday I will receive my 2nd paycheck, together totaling just under 9 grand after taxes. Half of those paychecks paid me for my training for two weeks, if you can call it that. As i mentioned, all this thing did was set me up with all my accounts. So there's half gone, im left with 4500 for the last 2 weeks. Now with these I would say 2 hours of my day is spent touring the site with my mentor, blankly staring at people doing shit. So if i have about 4500 left, and I have an 8 hour work day, about 1125 is gone for blank staring. Then I have about 2 hours spent surfing, mgoblog, bbcnews, and espn. Same fraction, same deal, another 1125 goes to me keeping up on the news. 1 hour a day goes to actually reading these manuals, because I get bored of reading the same articles online, so I do end up reading these things. 1/8 of 4500 nets me getting paid 562.50 for reading manuals...great, productive. Let's get into the nitty gritty; As I said I spend 3 hours a day sleeping, so this comes out to 1687.50 for sleeping. If I spent 30 hours sleeping for the past two weeks, it comes out to me getting paid 56.25 per hour of sleep...AFTER TAXES. I find this to be astonishing. I literally stay up late at night just so I can sleep at work and have something to do. I hate my job. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

Challenge Journal

2009-08-13T15:51:00.009-04:00

Last August, we kept a golfer's journal (Old Crow Challenge Beer Can Golf Open) to recollect drunken events of the challenge and laugh at them later. This year, we shall keep and update a journal on the blog for your entertainment and so we can recall things that we surely won't remember.

As of right now, I don't know who will be participating fully or who will be updating this journal, but I assure you me (Brick) and PLC will chime in with regular updates now and then.

Thursday, August 9, the year of our Lord MMIX (3:55 p.m. EST): As this is my first update, I would like to share with you the events that have occurred thusfar in the challenge. Last evening (while in my hometown), I drove up to the liquor store to purchase some Old Crow before I made the drive up to Ann Arbor. Sitting at my house, antsy for the Challenge, I decided to concoct myself a cocktail - citing that one beverage would quell my anxiousness. Hours later, I was quite drunk by myself -I simply couldn't resist the wait for the Challenge (this drunkenness is why the previous post was created, so you can thank Old Crow for that sentimental gem). I woke up hungover, but determined to get to BOX. Upon arrival, I found Dan -the newest member of BOX - already consuming an Old Crow cocktail. I knew at this moment that Dan would fit in perfectly at BOX.

4:50 p.m. The first casualty of the Challenge: Dan. He is asleep on the porch.

9:22 p.m. Paul is blackout, smoking cigarettes one after another in his room. He just asked me, "how you more drank than me?" For his case, he has indeed drank more than half a half gallon.

Friday

1;01 p.m. People have awaken, and people don't have recollection of the previous night. Although I know old BOX was here to rage.

7l05 p.m. Dan's testacles were just succombed to a vacuum cleaner; he did not awake from his pass out position.

Concluding Statements

If you were following this at all, you probably noticed that the journal came to an abrupt halt about halfway through the challenge. This is because we lost our cable and internet sometime late in the night Friday, which was almost certainly caused by something one of us did, although god knows who or what the hell caused it.

A quick recap will have to suffice. In total we consumed 7 half gallons in four nights (even though the fourth night no one drank a lot because I think we all felt as if we were on our death beds). A success in my book. The Old Crow Challenge Beer Can Golf tournament came to an abrupt halt when Paul quit after going 30 over par on the first 12 holes, then decided to chain smoke in his room. Old BOX members came over and graciously decided to throw all the Club Keno cards I had bagged up in trash bags (you might remember this from an earlier post which depicted my room filled entirely with Keno cards) and threw them all over the house. I'm pretty sure Al went to a party in nothing but his boxers, I was informed I was laying in an alleyway on the way to a bar, general debauchery, etc.

When I look back at last year's count of 8 half gallons in 5 days, I really wonder how we did it. They say the first time is always the best, and perhaps it was. I was feeling horrible after the second night, but at least could manage to drink, but I could barely get one drink of Old Crow down on the fourth day. I couldn't even ponder going a fifth day - as we did last year. Still, the challenge was a success, and as Paul and I concluded, I plan to continue this tradition every August for the rest of my life.

With the challenge over, we have a gruelling week-to-week 1/2 period where there won't be much going on. . . but everyday we inch closer and closer to the hallowed welcome week.

A Weekend for BOX Ages

2009-08-12T23:43:00.004-04:00

The times that one feels truly in connection with BOX history are few and far between, but when those moments come, they are humbling. Most (maybe all with the absence of Brian?) current members have never met the founders of our proud establishment (hell, I barely knew the generation that preceded me), and there is relatively little personal connection remaining between the class of 2009 and those who first erected the infamous Beta Omega Chi letters on State Street. Regardless of the fact that many of us have never met eachother, some things do connect everyone that ever has lived in BOX or has been an associate of the place. Certain passed down rituals, excessive Thanksgiving party's, end of 1st semester Christmas celebrations, the bond of living in a shithole, and of course, tailgates. These are just a few of the phenomenons that connect all BOX generations. But I think what bonds all of us most is two things: drinking and friendship. I don't think you'd meet any two BOX members, whether they be from 2001 or from 2009, that couldn't sit down at a bar, have a beer, and instantly relate to one another. I know I, for one, love when an old BOX member comes back to the house, whether I know them or not, to get silly drunk (and most likely cause destruction to the place for old time's sake).

Drinking and frienship. Well, in my quest to do my best to uphold whatever tradition BOX has at the University of Michigan, I can lay down at night confident that we have upheld the drinking aspect of BOX lore. I don't doubt that several of us are some of the hardest drinkers on the entire campus. BOX's reputation at U of M: many hate us, girls find our house despicable, many admire us, many love us, and a select few join us as participants of this great house; but no one will deny that we are some of the finest drinkers the university has to offer. And I take the utmost pride in upholding this tradition.

Which brings me to my subject. The Second Annual Old Crow Challenge. While it is a new tradition in BOX, I rever it like it is one of the oldest. Why? Because it combines the two components that glue BOX generations together: drinking heavily and friendship. There's no two ways about it. . . what the Old Crow participants will endure this weekend could be matched by realtively few respectable human beings: a true bender that would put most people to shame. And while this is a tradition of the newest BOX generation (circa 2008), I would like to think that most historical BOX members would not only participate and succeed in, but rever as a legendary BOX tradition. At any rate, my endeavors this weekend to consume as much Old Crow Bourbon as possible will be in an attempt to solidify what I think BOX stands for: frienship and heavy alcohol consumption. It may not be a storied tradition, but in my book it's a quest that stands for everything BOX is. No matter our reputation, no one will doubt us as one of the heaviest drinking houses around.

As for the Old Crow Challenge, this blog will certainly be utilized to convey the events of the challenge as the four day bender commences. I shall drink for what BOX stands for this weekend. If you are in the area, you should clear your schedule to drink bourbon at BOX, and if you are far away being a real person, you should take a shot of bourbon in memorium.

This weekend, BOX will be exactly what the Beta Omega Chi letters stand for.

America

2009-08-09T03:13:00.004-04:00

I love America. If you do also, please comment. It is my favorite country.

End of an Era (Beginning of Another)

2009-08-08T12:41:00.003-04:00

As one thing comes to an end, another must begin. With the final exodus of a great deal of my good friends from last year, I was accompanied by much sadness. Brian left on Wednesday to become a professional, Bob Loblaw's Law Blog has been gone for nearly a month, our dear neighbors on both sides have also made their final exodus and of course there are countless others that have graduated and moved onto greener pastures. However, as I woke up today I was met with a friendly sight. Our good friends Craig, Jello, Justin and Ryan were in my living room. They were moving many of their valuables into our house for storage for a couple weeks before they can move into their new house (conveniently right next to us). Now our living room and porch are almost uninhabitable because they are encumbered by couches, desks, and other furniture. However, this is a small price to pay for such characters. I am truly giddy with excitement as to see how this upcoming tailgate season and the entire year unfold with such folk living next door.

Old Crow Challenge II

2009-08-06T19:46:00.004-04:00

A week from today at this very hour, the bourbon will be flowing as the Second Annual Old Crow Challenge commences. Brace your livers.

A narrowly escaped buttrape

2009-08-02T19:14:00.008-04:00

Ahhh, my first post from Seattle, and certainly not the last... but hopefully the last of this nature. As the title should suggest, I had an interesting night last night, and ended up victorious, barely escaping what would have been an almost surely tattered colon.

It all begins after the bars had closed in Seattle and I was making the long trek to my apartment from a friends apartment after I had walked her home (altogether now: "AWWWW HOW SWEET"). So I picked up a burrito on the way, all the while observing the vagrants and crazies babbling about meth and whatever else they do. I finally get to my apartment building and I scan myself in, fairly sure that no one was even near me at the time to get in behind me. I go over to check my mail, but something moves across the lobby out of the corner of my eye. I turn around and see nothing, and so begins just the tip of the next freaky 30 minutes. Keep in mind there is no concierge in this tower, the 24 hour concierge is in the tower adjacent to mine. So I have my mail, and I walk over to the elevator, and peer behind me around a corner as I do so, finding none other than a creepy old fat guy blatantly hiding against the wall with a phone to his ear, obviously not talking on the phone. This slightly perturbs me, so I keep on my b-line for the elevator, hoping that this guy wasn't going to join me. The doors open, and of course he hastily scuttles over to the elevator, almost ensuring my anal rape fate. This guy doesn't press a floor, just rides with me up to my floor, not saying a word as I am as far as possible from him, gearing up for a weird gay-hetero struggle. When I get to my floor I power walk it to my door, get in, and slam the door behind me, sure that my butt would live another day without penis near it. I do as anyone would do in this situation and break out the cold cuts, celebrating my victory, but just then I hear a faint knock on the door. It's 2:30 in the freaking morning.
"Who is it?"... I hear nothing, so I figure I just imagined it, and I dive into my black forest ham and mayo. Then maybe a minute later, another very faint knock. Now I'm freaked.
"WHO IS IT?!"
"Someone sent me here to see you" Says the person, extremely softly. Okay, now I go over to the door with a kitchen knife, preparing for some psycho to bust through the door and shit on my night. I go up to the peephole, and the dude has BLOCKED THE PEEPHOLE WITH HIS FINGER.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" As I deadbolt the door, not excited about this turn of events and fearing the worst... a homosexual man on PCP.
"Someone sent me here to see you" He says again, and this makes me back away from the door, grab my phone, and respond with
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, I DONT KNOW YOU"
After this, he decides to run down the hallway, and I immediately lock my windows and porch door, followed by a call to the concierge, letting him know that there is in fact a man on the loose in my tower with what are most likely gay intentions. Who knows what happened to the guy, but my night ends huddled in a corner of my bed, glad that my butt was safe and schlong-less.

Autumn Fast Approacheth

2009-07-28T03:14:00.007-04:00

As we settle into the dog days of summer, it seems as if every day drags on longer and longer as my mind longs for the upcoming fall and all of the greatness that accompanies a new school year. At the same time, it seems as if it were only yesterday that Zola's blogpost detailing the "Most Anticipated Events of Summer" was published. Yet another college summer (my last) has passed by in the blink of an eye, August will be here in a couple of days, and the beginning of classes and football season is just a stones throw away. For me, it was a rather mild summer in terms of alcohol consumption and tomfoolery. But I guess any summer is hard to compare to last summer - when I had no responsibilities and drank nearly every night. But I would argue that a mild summer means good things are to come. Liver's should be rested and funds should be replenished for many, meaning that one will be that much more prepared for an onslaught of booze-inspired poor decision making this fall. And certainly, since the year will be many BOX members' last one in college, we will be prepared to make an appropriate exit from the undergraduate stage of our lives.

In homage to Zola's "Most Anticipated Events of Summer," which again, seems like yesterday, I have comprised a short-list of some big things that will all be happening within the next few weeks. It's a hell of a list we have to look forward to and uncork a new year with:

1. Aug. 13: The Old Crow Challenge (II). Last year, a fledgling tradition was born when three members of BOX embarked on a mission to finish 4(.5) gallons of bourbon whiskey in as many nights. Ever since the end of the challenge last August, BOX members have been yearning for this event like kids waiting for Christmas.

Unlike last year, there is no predetermined goal in mind. However, the general idea is that one should push the limit as to how much bourbon he can drink, and I truly mean push the limit as to how much one's body can physically take. Over the course of 4 days, a man is expected to spend very little time sober, as all of the guidelines of a bender pertain to this event. The hard-core participants will sleep very little, get excessively drunk twice in a day, and probably take a year or so off of their lives. Personally, I'm setting a bar for myself at 2 half gallons, which roughly comes out to a fifth a day... but we'll probably just see where it goes from there. I'm confident that the Friendly Neighborhood Drunk could probably polish off 3 handles in the four day timeslot.

2. Welcome Week(s). BOX members historically have taken the traditional college "welcome week" and turned it into a "welcome month". I remember last fall NotoriousPLC and I had a calendar and one day woke up to realize we had drank something like 17 days in a row; the winter semester ended up being like 30 out of 33 nights in a row drunk. Obviously the traditional welcome week is great for all of the parties, but somehow the drunkenness seems to keep playing out long after most students have settled into reality. As a general rule, I think most BOX members tend to live in a drunken haze until the last possible moment before something significant is actually due for classes. I expect this year to be no different, as many of us are seniors, and now can drink at the bars instead of by ourselves on those lonely Monday nights when everyone else on campus has started studying and you start feeling like a real alcoholic. Additionally, with a new group of drunks living right next door to us, and drunken DKE friends living 2 doors down, it certainly won't be hard to find someone to drink with this year, although most of us have proven that drinking by our lonesome is no strange occurrence.

3. (obviously) Tailgate season. If I was asked to paint a picture of my ideal heaven, it would be almost identical to Ann Arbor on a fall Saturday morning. Waking up at the crack of dawn to a glass of bourbon, drunken tailgates, thousands of maize-clad people walking by, the Wolverines running out of the tunnel at the Big House. I can honestly say that each and every football Saturday I've experienced in college will go down as one of the best days of my life. Ever. Nothing in the world compares to it. When I think about how much money I've spent to go here, and wonder how much I could've saved by going somewhere shittier, I think about football Saturday's. I would pay full tuition for the memories of football Saturday's alone. Hands down.

It really seems like only last fall that I was a freshman walking down State Street for my first game. As I went from frat to frat, and on to the stadium, I realized that my two favorite things in the world - Binge drinking and Michigan football - had been mixed to create an unrivaled atmosphere. Somehow, three years have come and gone in the blink of an eye, and I'm left with only one season left of these heavenly days. Let's make a few more memories, because I know in a couple of years we'll all be longing for these days... if we can remember any of it.

What Happened?

2009-07-26T16:50:00.000-04:00

While the title may be a question that many BOX members ask themselves on a Sunday morning (I woke up at 3 in the afternoon which makes my morning more of an evening), today has really stumped me. It is 5pm and I am still under the influence from the events of yesterday. Me and the Friendly Neighborhood Drunk engaged in a 1 v. 1 case race yesterday. He won handily (as was expected) 30-22 which is when things start to get hazy. The case race began at about 2:30 and was finished by 8:30, but that is just where the night begins. Afterwords, me and a few friends went to Charley's and then Rick's. It is at this point in my tale where memory is essentially not relevant at all because things just start to get silly. I have no remembrance of how or why I left Rick's, but I ended up at Greenwood. I somehow thought it would be a good idea to go to my friends' house even though neither of them live there over the summer. By a stroke of luck however, one of them, Squats, was actually visiting with his friends that night. So after a brief pass out, on their couch I awoke and realized I needed to take a leak. I went outside, and as far as I know, I lost a sandal. From there, I ended up at Bell's Pizza with one Sandal eating 2 slices of Cheese Pizza talking to Greg Matthews. When I went home, there appeared to be 4 strangers on my porch. As I got closer, I recognized them as friends and we started consuming more beverage. We then thought it would be a good idea to play chair in the street. This game was fairly boring until (after about 30 cars swerved around it) some drunk man drilled the chair and destroyed it. After enjoying a good laugh, we let the pieces of the chair lie in the street. Then, sometime later, a cab pulled over and put the pieces on my neighbors' lawn. My response was classic. I ran from my porch and yelled at him saying: "This is my property! What do you think you're doing?" This is especially funny considering that it wasn't my property. As my friends invited a shirtless man onto the porch, I began trading him beers for cigarettes. This is awesome because I later kicked the man off our porch. Then, at around 4 or 5am my friends left. My night concludes as I decided to sit on the porch, drinking Natty Ice's and watching the sun rise. These are the things that I remember, but I am not entirely sure how they are connected or if there are more details.

Somber Events at the Home

2009-07-24T13:44:00.000-04:00

This post is dedicated to a brave little hamster and the death of an even more courageous piece of BOX lore, the Gettysburg DVD. On March 23, 2008 our abode was blessed with the introduction of Harriet Tubman, the house hamster. After living a life full of drug experimentation and alcohol abuse, she pushed through it all and survived for 16 months. She spent her final days living free and unimpeded in the basement. Her unfortunate demise in the washing machine was certainly the best and only way that she should have exited life. She was buried in a Miller High Life box in the front yard yesterday to the tune of Amazing Grace. Many showed up for the funeral dressed in formal mourning attire and others in celebratory silly festive attire. Yet, the Wetness truly gave a magnificent sermon as he was dressed in a full blown priest outfit-all black with the white strip at the collar. His speech was both honorary of the hamster's life and realistic in how much of a bitch she was in life. Harriet Tubman rests in bum corner of the BOX house (at least until a raccoon digs her up and consumes the remainder of her body).

Sadder yet, a staple of BOX tailgates has fallen. The Gettysburg DVD that played on our TV during every tailgate in the fall died. It brought people together, it made us laugh, it made us remember American heroes, it made us see Sam Elliot for the man he really is. Zola and I made it up to General Hethe's charge on General Buford's position (I know a great spot in the film) when: UNABLE TO READ DISC appeared on the screen. I know that you all must be very distraught about the death of such a fine DVD, but rest assured by the time tailgate season rolls around in 6 weeks or so a new Gettysburg DVD will have been purchased. In the meantime, try to show the same fortitude Colonel Chamberlain did on Little Round Top.

A great anniversary for everyone but PLC

2009-07-20T16:57:00.001-04:00

Today marks the 40th anniversary of the USA landing on the moon! We are sure the box class of 1969 celebrated appropriately.

It should also be noted that not all Box members will be celebrating today.

That is because PAUL CAVANAUGH DOES NOT BELIEVE THAT WE EVER LANDED ON THE MOON.

Apparently he saw a show on Fox that convinced him that we never landed on the moon. What an idiot.

The Box Treasure Hunt

2009-07-20T15:40:00.000-04:00

Yesterday PLC and I were hanging out behind the house thinking of ways to turn our back yard into an opium den/strip club. You know, guy stuff. While we were doing this we noticed that underneath a thin layer of dirt was a large circular piece of cement.

We knew that this slab of stone must be concealing something and we could only guess what lay underneath as we began to dig. We were hoping it was bars of gold but secretly I wanted it to be the 1992 and 1993 NCAA Final Four Banners. We began to prop up the cover with shit we found in the basement. Once we had uncovered the secret cavern we were amazed at what we found. It was an old well shaft that was filed in dirt. Neither of us expected that!

Although we were disappointed with the lack of buried treasure we decided that the next curious BOX descendants should at least get to uncover something cool. So we gave them a clue, to lead them on their own magnificent adventure.

It reads:
You have found the first clue to finding buried treasure. Next you will need to proceed to the attic of the President's house where you will find a cigar box with four condoms and your next clue inside.

Good Luck,

The Men of the Order of the BOX
2009

Precursor to Fall Tailgates

2009-07-19T08:58:00.000-04:00

As the first football game of the year inches closer with every passing day, I've grown increasingly anxious. So to heighten the anticipation, I've come up with a list of items that need to be addressed (this post may be more of a checklist to BOX members and affiliates than actually informative). Lets get a move on people.

1. Shirts need to be decided and ordered by Tuesday
2. Bring any electronic equipment that you don't want to the house for Break Stuff sessions
3. Despite long hours of practice, I am still bad at the playing the Horn of Gondor-an experienced person would be helpful
4. We need sponsors-the more obscure and hilarious, the better
5. Boo Weekley or John Daley need to come to at least one tailgate this year
6. Fencing-we are out
7. A new computer tower
8. A beer pong table
9. This: http://aardvarks.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/wilford_brimley.jpg
10. In foresight, I am going to need a new liver so I'll throw the request out there now

If you can assist in the acquisition of any of these things please let us know. This tailgate season has a great deal of promise especially with characters like Craig, Jello, J-Bird and Hill living next door along with the return of tailgate all-star veterans like Chris Orr and Steve Wolters.

The Pet that Will Not Die

2009-07-16T17:10:00.000-04:00

For the past year and a half or so, a hamster that goes by the name of Harriet Tubman -- aptly named for her burrowing skills and unrelenting pursuit to escape her cage -- has enjoyed the luxury of living in BOX as our house pet. I first received this pet in March of 2008, as a gift from Al and my girlfriend at the time - who hoped that giving me a pet would "teach me responsibility". While I cannot really say the whole responsibility thing ever worked out, the fact that Harriet is still alive proved many nay-sayers wrong. Many outsiders take one look at our house and say that it is unfit for an animal to live in, let alone a human being. They said our house could never keep a pet alive. They said it couldn't be done.

Harriet's endurance has proved that BOX can indeed keep a pet alive. Though she has been drunk at numerous parties (I've woken up many times to find Harriet's water bowl filled with beer or Old Crow), has been high from puffs of hippy-lettuce blown into her cage, has survived numerous throws across the room in her ball, and has been forced to live in one of our bathtubs for weeks after I accidentally broke her cage, she somehow has managed to survive in BOX. Most recently, Saturday morning to be exact, I woke up from a strong night of drinking to find that the BOX house pet was missing from her cage. I wasn't positive if either a.) someone came into the home and stole her or b.) she simply climbed out of her cage somehow. But I was almost positive that she was gone once and for all, considering that our door had been opened pretty much all night. Just as I was ready to write off Harriet's existence in the world for good, a maintenance man claimed to have seen a creature resembling Harriet running around in the depths of the basement today - nearly a full week after the day she went missing. Somehow this persevering rodent survived a week in the cellar without food or water. While some of the roommates were joyous in anticipation that Harriet was dead (some wanted a cremation jar of her), they will have to wait a little longer for that day. I think it is remarkable that BOX has been able to keep a pet alive this long.

So, as our reputation of filth, irresponsibility, and general unhealthiness has certainly been growing as of late (the city of Ann Arbor offered us cleaning tips such as 'how to use a vacuum the other day'; and a girl familar to the house refuses to let her brother live here even though we are desperate for another roommate this year) the tale of Harriet Tubman proves that a pet can indeed live in BOX. We can't be that bad if this rodent has survived so long, can we?

God Smiles on our BOX

2009-07-15T13:21:00.000-04:00

The festering infection of the BOX house has finally been cleaned. The man who goes by the name of Bob Loblaw's Law Blog, Pete, no longer lives at our residence. His departure marks several reasons for joy and celebration particularly since there is a whisper in the winds of Ann Arbor that a former member and legend shall return, Ross. However, I would like to make a special notice here for Brick. He misses the hot man on man action that Pete provided for his specific needs and surely Brick longs for more. In any case, I will miss watching horrible movies with my unemployed comrade during the day-movies like Battlefield Earth, Waterworld, Zoo, Hitman and Deep Blue Sea. So farewell Pete and good riddance.

Meet Our Friend Craig, a.k.a. Craig's at it Again

2009-07-11T01:49:00.000-04:00

Meet our friend Craig: Drunk extraordinaire

Tonight the drinking legend that is Craig decided to take a brief hiatus from building army tanks to come and drink copious amounts of bourbon in the place he truly belongs, BOX, Ann Arbor. It didn't take long after arrival for Craig to begin his normal Craig antics: lookings like a crazy red-head, speaking unspeakable words, making girls feel uncomfortable. About this time Craig decided to challenge me to a 40 race.

So Since I am in fact a weaker drinker than Peter, B-Russ, probably Al, Andy, and Zola (sarcasm), what better man to challenge to regain my drinking crowndom than Craig. As it turns out, this strategy was pointless. I ended up pounding a 40; Craig ended up spilling it all over a female-household's carpet.

Anyways, this all is beside the point. What is the point is how Mr. Craig ended up this fine night. (With pictures):

Here we see our friend Craig in a clear attempt to enter the BOX home through an opened window. However, it appears this red-headed drunk has passed out half-way through. Don't let the picture fool you, the man literally passed out in this position.

Here we see the animal from outdoors, with his ass hanging half-way out the window, literally waiting for a homeless man to penetrate his anoos.

At this point, you might be thinking that Craig is a crazy drinker. I would like to share a story about Zola-palooza. Craig drank heavily, blacked out, came-to at Kroger (at least 1.5 miles away) at 6 a.m., was asked by Kroger employees if he was ok (?), and proceeded to run home in the rain. Yes, the man is a drinking fiend.

Editors Note: Craig is now removed from his position in between the window, and is passed out (in his own vomit) on the porch.

Brick's room

2009-06-29T12:16:00.000-04:00

Through Al's dealings with the Michigan Lottery we found ourselves in possession of about 20,000 expired Club Keno cards. We finally decided to put them to good use by crumpling them up and filling Bricks room with them. We finished just before Brick returned from his month in Chicago.

Here is the progress.

We also sprinkled in 150 prostitute calling cards that I got last week in Vegas.

Brick came home yesterday and just stood in disbelief in front of his door for a while. I think poor Bricky doesn't have a clue of what to do with what appears to be about 20 cubic feet of keno cards.

Box and the Freshmen

2009-06-24T22:42:00.001-04:00

We used to know these freshmen girls. They would come over and drink. They were pretty awesome. One time one of them got so drunk she passed out in the good bathroom. Then I tried to help her out, but I think she was a lost cause.

It's memories like those that I will miss about the Box House.

Good News for Tailgates; Bad News for Livers

2009-06-24T17:58:00.001-04:00

Via mgoblog.com, I was alerted to the announcement of game time starts for the first two games of the upcoming Michigan football season:

Western Michigan @ Michigan: 3:30!
Notre Dame @ Michigan: 3:30!

Good god. Two box houses next door to eachother + first tailgate of the year + 3:30 p.m. start time... I smell a disaster a-brewing. Notre Dame certainly won't be any prettier. As has been mentioned in this blog, our 5:30 a.m. start time for tailgates usually is a recipe for blackout - for noon start times. Accordingly, 3:30 games tend to get extra silly.

As of today, only 72 summer days until the first game (Western). The first tailgate involving BOX and BOX Senior house will be here before we know it. I wish you all luck in waiting for that glorious day.

Additionally, I shall be returning to BOX probably Sunday or Monday, and I expect to blackout with anyone willing to journey into the darkness with me then. Soon thereafter, Al, after at least 5 run-ins with the law for underage drinking (I've lost count), will be turning the legal age of drinking next week. On top of this, the 4th of July awaits us next Saturday - and BOX's true love of America makes this day one of the greatest of the year for our extremely pro-American abode. Let the blackout's begin.

My Return

2009-06-21T19:40:00.000-04:00

Thinking ahead to the month of July, I had set aside a portion of my Chicago internship earnings so that I would be able to drink comfortably upon my return to BOX. However, this layaway money underwent a significant depletion yesterday when me and my Texas friend decided to rip 15 shots and then go out to the bars in Wrigleyville -- where I blacked out and somehow managed to spend over half of said layaway money.

This leaves me in a predicament. While I am excited to be returning home to the castle of debauchery, I simply will not have sufficient means to fund my lifestyle of excess. And let me tell you, one cannot be reasonably expected to live in a house of filth and other drunks while remaining sober. BOX and sobriety are simply incompatible. Fast approaching events such as Al's 21st birthday, the Fourth of July, and the Old Crow Challenge only further make sobriety not an option.

What ever will I do, you ask? Well, I do have some plans. For one, I will purchase only the cheapest half gallons from Meijer or 40's of CSI from somewhere else cheap; I must avoid the overpriced campus liquor stores by all means. Secondly, I plan to collect cans and return them for 10 cents/beer money. Yes, I will be acting as if I were a resident Ann Arbor homeless man. I'm also considering buying alcohol in bulk online (i.e. a cask of Old Crow). And finally, I will rely on you, loyal reader. Yes, you. I'm taking the advice that was given to Paul on an earlier post and creating a PayPal account so you can donate money to fund my drinking addiction:

Why would you ever want to donate funds for a cause such as this? Well, if I was you, I certainly wouldn't, but it's pretty funny anyways. Just think, with a measly 3 dollar donation, you can fund a CSI purchase -- the equivalent to half of a nights drinking. With a measly 2 dollar donation, you've just bought me a pitcher at Mitch's on Wednesday nights. If you're a big spender, you could even chip in 13 dollars, enough for the cheapest half gallon around, and enough for me to sufficiently blackout 3 or 4 times. I've also created some incentives for you to donate. I promise anyone who donates that I will drink entirely in your honor on a particular night, and I will wear a silly outfit of your choice. Scout's honor. So get your credit card out, and begin donating now to support a good cause! I'm not sure if it will work, but I'll try and get B-Russ' help so I can figure it out.

I shall see you soon, BOX.

P.S.
Jello, I fully expect you to be my top contributor, because you're making far too much money for a being a drunk college student.

Complete Success

2009-06-19T12:31:00.000-04:00

In a pathetic and excessively silly effort BOX threw a party for one the most grumpy yet beloved roommates yesterday night. ZOL-A-Palooza was an epic accomplishment. We not only made the 20 year-old a mess, but we avoided a noise violation, oriented at least a dozen incoming freshmen to the house, drunk beer on the porch with the owner of the corner liquor store, verbally accosted individuals, spent time with the outgoing seniors who soon will be joining the work force and of course wore outrageous outfits. On top of this, yours truly was blessed with a few visitors from back home as was the birthday boy. Needless to say, the main reason this party was a victory was the high attendance despite the fact that it is summer term. Now, downstairs it smells like Maple Syrup for some unexplainable reason. Success.

Email from the landlord...

2009-06-18T12:54:00.000-04:00

"Please see the attached memo regarding the violation notice we received from the city. Your residence was cited for "unsanitary living conditions" in all common area rooms and the basement. Please remedy this situation immediately. A representative from the Arch Realty Maintenance Department will be following up on Wednesday, June 24 to ensure that your residence has been restored to a clean and sanitary living environment."According to the city we have a "G5" violation. I think that is a citation for excessive dudeness, but I could be wrong.

Bright Spots after a Tragedy

2009-06-13T14:13:00.000-04:00

After last night's debacle on ice, I am forced to relay stories of hilarity and excellence that occurred yesterday evening. The members of BOX did the following:

-Defecated on the hood of a Camaro
-Stole a large wooden post from a neighboring property and placed it against a door
-Scaled a house and spent a good portion of the night on a second story porch of a locked house
-Built our new letters
-Crashed a party at a house where we aren't welcome
-Drunk with parents on their tab at a bar
-Spread Club Keno slips all up and down the block
-Destroyed several empty 40's into State Street
-Threw a 3 week old Burrito in State Street

This constitutes a typical response to a Red Wings defeat in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals.