Why am I bringing up such an old story, you ask? Because Spring Break '09 is fast approaching. For this spring break, BOX has assembled a crew of hooligans that could outdrink John Daly and his closest friends. Said crew will descend upon Panama City Beach in late February of the year of our lord MMIX, reak havoc on the local citizenship, clean out every liquor store in town of their cheapest vodkas, cause a week-long blackness to shadow all of Florida, and frat off our faces until we simply can't feel feelings any longer. I joke you not, reader; The collection of renegades that will be driving down to the Confederate territories is an ungodly cast of people that would make Captain Hook's crew of scalliwags look like saints.
Back to FLASB08, though. Just thinking about it gives me the willies.
- The drive. Well, this is the lone downspot for me. 5 of us fratters (Al, Pete, Sanchez, Ross, and myself) all piled in our luggage and our beer bellies into Al's car that really should fit no more than 4 persons. It all started well. I beat everyone handily in a game of MarioKart to secure the position of shotgun for the beginning of the 13 hour trek to the sandy shores of Florida. I got this position for about half an hour. From then on, I was forced to sit in the middle of the backseat for the rest of the trip. Lord have mercy on my soul. The only way I can describe the agony of doing this is to relate it to having to quit drinking for the rest of your life. Yes, MISERABLE! Anyways, the position was so terrible that on the return home from Dixieland I decided that I could no longer handle being bitch unless I began drinking. Therefore, I began drinking straight vodka in order to calm the pain. I soon was quite drunk. As I am told, I requested my friends to leave me at a gas station in the middle of hickville, Georgia because I refused to sit in the middle any longer and I was sauced. Well, my friends forced me to come home anyways (this could be good or bad for the general population).
- On to the good stuff. Gainesville. After meeting up with B-Russ, there was now 6 of us. We all descended upon the dormotories of the University of Florida looking like an approaching hurricane ready to cause damage. A lovely girl had been kind enough to let us stay in her 3-person dorm room for the weekend. I dare say she regrets the decision. Her other roommates wisely decided to leave the dorms for the weekend to seek shelter elsewhere. Well, we began drinking heavily, and I'm pretty sure the drinking never stopped. We made a huge bowl of Jungle Juice filled with Everclear, mingled with some southern belles on the town, visited The Swamp, played football on the field, and brought a general sense of debauchery to the campus. If I remember correctly, we left the place covered in hundreds of beer cans and about a dozen empty pizza boxes, probably smelling like King Kong just took a dump in the place. Gainesville: conquered in bold fashion.
- Clearwater. I'll cut to the chase. While I choose not to remember this particular part of Spring Break, my comrades choose to remind me of it whenever they get the chance. What began as an innocent decision to drink some handles on the beach at night watching the ocean turned into one of the most regrettable moments in my regrettable life. We were pounding some vodka when Sanchez decided to approach some females on the beach to ask them for a cigarette. Things quickly spiraled out of control. Both of these femals were questionable-looking at best. Sanchez decided to hit on the better looking of the two, the rest of our roommates decided to call it a night, and I wisely decided to wing-man for Sanchez. My wing-man decision may or may not have ended with me making out with the Swamp Thing or the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Anyways, the Swamp Thing turned out to be an amateur drinker and passed out on the beach. Her friend decided she needed to go to the hospital, called up her parents, and Sanchez and I quickly decided to get the hell out of Dodge. Clearwater: Fled as Wanted Criminals, but conquered.
- Port St. Lucie/ Ft. Lauderdale. The most mellow part of the trip. We decided to drive across the state to support our beloved baseball team (we are the #1 fans at The Fish, ask any player) as they played the New York Mets. Shockingly, Michigan tied a major league team; we were excited. Afterwards we desperately needed a free place to stay, so we drove down to Ft. Lauderdale and stayed with Sanchez's Pike broseph, where we were welcomed with extreme southern hospitality and boozed it up all night. Port St. Lucie: Michigan baseball is the only real sport we can be excited about; Ft. Lauderdale: Southern hospitality is great/ we conquered.
- Naples. This was probably the most exciting part of the trip, considering we got to stay in a private beach resort with two of the hottest females that attend the University of Michigan. Some of the highlights of this venture include: Al hitting on Melina's mother, Ross spending one morning curled up with toilet for a couple of hours, getting to drive a golf cart to the private beach, enjoying cocktails on said beach, admiring the gorgeous females, seeing alligators and dolphins, and the creation of the puppy dog diaries. Naples: conquered.
Well, I've spent enough time putting aside schoolwork blogging for now. I'm now off to pre-game for the basketball game on the lawn for a bit. But I will leave you with a promise: The blogmosphere will be filled with debaucherous tales when Spring Break concludes, so prepare yourself.
