Previous installments: Part 1
, Part 2
, Part 3
, Part 4
, Part 5
, Part 6
, Part 7
, Part 8
, Part 9
. And check out the official Livin' Large FAQ
The next week was a real whirligig of activity. For me at that time, anyway. In addition to classes, homework and kitchen duties at the dorm's food service, I played pickup ball with my buddy Joe, got together with Nathan for lunch a couple times, and started hanging out at the APO office between classes. Susan and I met there to sign up for some community service activities together. We had to complete 30 hours of service by the end of the semester to become active members. That sounded easy at first, but once we started trying to schedule those hours, it began to look pretty challenging.
On Wednesday, Susan and I put in our first hour of pledgeship by working at a signup table for...something. I have no idea what it was for. But I do remember that I brought a bag of freshly baked cookies, which Susan happily shared with me. "Oh my God, I love
cookies," she said, nibbling on one as she spoke. "Keep bringing cookies, and we're going to be really
I sure hoped so.
Later that night, my buddy Greg from Kokomo called. "Dude," he said, adopting a hillbilly accent as he went on, "we country boys are gonna come visit your big ol' college this weekend." Gauvin was the other half of Greg's "we." I told Greg I was all for a visit.
Greg and Gauvin wanted to crash in my room, but I decided to check with Mat first. Otherwise, things could get awkward. When he finally returned to the room, I asked if he minded my friends staying the night on Saturday.
"Dat's cool," he rumbled. "Tell you what. I'll get you guys into a frat party."Wow
, I thought. That's pretty cool of him
Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to go to a frat party. Like many things in those early days at college, the idea of large social situations freaked me out. But I figured I'd leave it to my buds to decide.
I called Greg back. "A frat party?" he said. "Awesome! Let's do it!"
Alrighty then. We were going to a frat party then. I didn't argue. After all, I kind of wanted my friends from back home to believe I was living a crazy, fast-paced college life. I figured taking them (via Mat) to a frat party would further that notion. At any rate, I was so grateful to my roommate I hardly noticed the nasty things he did to Jennifer that night.
On Thursday afternoon, Susan and I once again met at the APO office. We signed up for an activity that was taking place at 1 p.m. on Sunday. Greg had told me he needed to leave early Sunday morning, which meant I wouldn't have any trouble making it to the local campground, where we'd be building shelters for campers.
That night, Aimee actually called me for a change. (She usually had me call her, because she didn't have a job and couldn't afford the long distance.) There was a reason for that, of course. "I've got tickets for a showing of The Secret Garden
on Friday night," she said. "I'd really like you to go with me."
"Is this a date?" I asked hopefully.
"I wouldn't say that exactly," she mused. "But I wouldn't say it's not
a date, either."
I realized, for like the thousandth time, that women could be immensely frustrating. Still...I felt like this could be a golden opportunity. And yet it was really complicating my weekend plans.
"You realize I don't have a car, right?" I asked.
"Not a problem," she replied. "You can take the Greyhound to downtown Indianapolis and then take a bus to Butler."
"Well, how'm I gonna get back?"
She laughed. "On the Greyhound, silly!"
Oh. Right. "They run that late?"
"No," she said. "You'll have to stay overnight."
Overnight? Overnight?! I had to act cool.
"Oh, sure, right. Where am I going to stay?"
"In my room." She giggled, and then said, "You can sleep on the floor."
"Uh, there's another problem," I said. "Greg and Gauvin are coming to visit me on Saturday."
"When are they going to be there?" she asked.
"One o'clock, I think."
"That's fine," she said. "I've got the Greyhound schedule right here. There's a shuttle that'll get you back with a half hour to spare."
A half hour was cutting it pretty close. But this was a solid chance to go out with Aimee on something she wouldn't say wasn't a date! Yeah, I know. I was pathetic. I was also locked in.
Fortunately, despite the fact that I was taking 18 credit hours, I had only one morning class on Friday. I ran home after class to pack my things, and while I was doing that, Zach called and asked if I wanted to get lunch. We met at Taco Bell, which was on my way to the Greyhound station.
Life was getting hectic. I had friends and a schedule packed full of things to do. I danced a little jig as I left Taco Bell. I felt, for the very first time, like a real, honest-to-goodness college student.
True to form, I arrived at the Greyhound station an hour and a half early. After buying my ticket, I had nothing to do but wait. I was outside wandering the parking lot with no real goal when I ran into my English professor. He was doing his laundry at the Laundromat next door. I didn't notice him at first, but he waved me down.
"Matt, how are you?" he said. "I wanted to tell you, I really liked that paper you wrote on the construction of gender in Ghostbusters
. Honestly, it was one of the best freshman papers I've seen."
Now I was getting compliments from my professors?! Things were really looking up. "Thanks, Professor Webster."
"Call me Bill," he said.
We chatted for a bit about his class, and then he asked me what I was doing. I explained I was going to visit my non-girlfriend in Indianapolis.
"Ah," he said knowingly. "A long-distance relationship. Sweet torment, right?"
"I'll let you know if it ever gets to the 'relationship' part," I said. We both laughed.
I really liked Prof. Webster. He was one of those cool teachers who wore jeans and talked like one of the guys (although, admittedly, with a slightly enhanced vocabulary). Maybe that's why I opened up to him about my feelings for Aimee, my crush on Susan, and how those two things left me feeling very confused and unsure of what to do.
"Matt," he said, "life is a series of self-limiting decisions. For each path you walk down, there are several others you have to bypass. Maybe walking those paths would have made you happy, maybe they wouldn't have. You'll never know. Choose your path, walk it, and make the best of it."
I remember thinking that was really deep.
I then told him about my roommate Mat, and about all the women he slept with. "I don't see how he can do that," I said. "He doesn't care about these girls. He's just using them. I couldn't do that. It shows poor moral character."
Professor Webster laughed. "I know you feel that way now
," he said, "no, don't look at me like that. Hear me out. Like I was saying, I know you feel that way now, but as you grow older and your life becomes more complicated, you'll sometimes find yourself making decisions and acting on impulses that are strange, irrational and even dangerous."
I looked at him skeptically.
"Take myself for instance," he continued. "I'm currently having an affair with the wife of the dean of the School of Liberal Arts. In other words, the wife of my boss. Not only am I in peril emotionally, I'm putting my career on the line...all because I fell in love with a married woman."
I was absolutely floored. Not only by the situation, which was one of the craziest things I'd heard by that point in my life, but also because of the fact that he was sharing something so deeply personal with some freshman kid he barely knew. In hindsight, I figure it was because he simply needed to tell somebody
. And there I was.
We talked for a while longer, and then it was time to catch my bus. I bid farewell to Professor Webster and got on a Greyhound for the first time. It wasn't so bad. Of course, I would feel very differently a few years later when I took a 24-hour Greyhound ride to Washington D.C. -- still one of the worst experiences of my life -- but this ride was short and uneventful.
About and hour and a half later, I arrived in the "big city" of Indianapolis. With some effort, I found the bus that took me to Butler. When I got there, Aimee and Latrisse were waiting for me with smiles and hugs. We dropped my things off at their room and then the girls showed me around campus. It was quite a bit smaller than my school's campus, but it was still pretty nice.
We went back to their room to relax until it was time to leave for the play. Latrisse said, "I hope you have fun sleeping on the floor." Right. The floor. Yippee.
I plopped down on Aimee's bed and she snuggled up against me. Actual physical contact! My heart started pounding like crazy. It was pounding so hard, in fact, that it shot a geyser of blood down to my man region
. To my great embarrassment, Aimee noticed. Fortunately, it didn't seem to bother her. She simply said, "Why Matt, I've never seen you like this." I could feel my face burning.
The hours passed until it was time to see The Secret Garden
. I don't remember a single thing about that play other than the name. I just went to the wiki page
and nothing in the plot summary is even remotely familiar. Oh well. I had other things on my mind.
Aimee held my hand during the play. It made my palms sweaty. During intermission, we shared a soft drink and sat in this little cubbyhole in the theater wall. She asked me about basketball, so I told her about playing with Joe earlier in the week and mentioned how I'd tweaked my lower back during the final game. I fully (but not proudly) admit that I brought up my back in the hopes that she wouldn't make me sleep on the floor. In fact, my exact words were, "I hope sleeping on the floor doesn't make it worse."
She looked at me with a devilish grin. "You don't have to sleep on the floor."
Given the situation and my complete and total lack of experience, that was the sexiest thing anybody had ever said to me. (Well, with the possible exception of the time in high school when an underclassman girl had offered to give me a blowjob. I declined, in case you're wondering.)
The play ended in a blur. Then we were back at her room. Latrisse was already asleep...or pretending to be. I changed into (you guessed it!) my Larry Bird shorts and a t-shirt. Aimee put on sweat pants and a t-shirt. We crawled into bed. I was so nervous I thought I was going to pee myself, which would prove to be a mild form of foreshadowing.
I'll cut to the chase: all we did was kiss for a few minutes. But it went much better than the first time
. Then we stopped, wrapped our arms around each other, and got an exceedingly uncomfortable night's sleep.
We woke up late the next morning. I had to throw my things together and run down the street to catch the bus to downtown Indy. But, for whatever reason, the bus never showed up even though it was scheduled to. I started to wig out. Aimee took quick action. We sprinted back to her room and she called a taxi.
I jumped in the cab and the first thing the driver said was: "Are you a patriot? Because if you don't love America, you ca get the hell outta my cab!"
Ooookay. I gave the right answer ("yes") and we were off. I made it to the Greyhound station with only minutes to spare. Once the ride began, I realized I had to pee. Like, really, really bad. After a moment of reflection, it occurred to me that I hadn't relieved myself since the previous night...before the play
. It's like I'd been blocking the need out of my mind. That was impossible now. My bladder felt like it was going to explode in a red-and-yellow rainbow, and this particular Greyhound bus didn't have a bathroom.
The bus was late getting to my school's town, naturally. By the time I stepped gingerly (to avoid bladder detonation) off the bus, it was 12:46. I had 14 minutes to get back to my dorm. That happened to be almost the exact amount of time it would take me to walk back. In other words, I couldn't stop for a toilet break. It never even occurred to me that Greg and Gauvin would wait.
That walk back to my dorm almost killed me. Okay, that's an exaggeration. But I'm certain it nearly did permanent damage to my bladder. I screamed once or twice while walking the final block or two. Out loud. For real. I got to my room, pushed the door wide open, and then wobbled across the hall to the bathroom...where I had what may have been the most wonderful pee of my life.
I had barely walked back into the room when Greg and Gauvin showed up. We exchanged shugs
, and the guys asked for the grand tour. We walked all over campus. I showed them the cool buildings, took them to the APO office, and introduced them to the cool little strip mall just off campus.
As the day went on, the tension started to grow. It became clear that whatever excitement they had felt about the frat party was transforming into fear. But, being 18-year-old males, we were physically and psychologically unable to divulge our vulnerability for fear of mockery.
We avoided my room for as long as we could, but there were only so many things to do on campus for students (and non-students) who hadn't reached drinking age. When we got back to my room, Mat was waiting for us. "You guys ready for da party?" he asked.
Greg and Gauvin could only stare. Sure, I had described Mat's size, but that hadn't prepared them for the stunning reality. All they could do was stare at him with their mouths hanging open. Finally, Greg said, "Uh, you know what, I just remembered some stuff I have to take care of back in Kokomo. It's been good seeing you, Matt. You ready Gauvin?"
Gauvin nodded, and they practically ran from my room.
"Your friends are leaving?" Mat asked. I nodded, and he said, "I guess it's just you and me den." Oh boy.
Mat and I walked to the party in silence. We didn't really have anything to talk about when we were in the room together, and we certainly didn't have anything more to discuss now. I felt like I was walking to the gallows.
We got to the party and a crowd formed around Mat instantly. Guys, girls, everybody wanted a piece of Big Mat. Meanwhile, Little Matt slunk off by himself. I walked over to a table full of food and started munching away. There was a group of guys sitting on some couches nearby. They eyed me suspiciously, no doubt wondering what the nerd was doing at their party. They asked me who I was, and I explained I was Mat's roommate.
"No shit," one of them said. "Cool. What's he like?"
"Uh, I...don't really know. I mean, we don't hang out much."
"Oh," he said, looking at me like someone who had no idea how lucky he was. "Well, you want a beer or something?"
"No, thanks. I don't drink."
Now he just looked at me like I'd gone crazy. "You don't drink? Why go to a party then?"
It was a reasonable question, even if he delivered it like a douchebag.
I milled around for a 20 minutes or so hoping somebody who didn't look (or act) like an Alpha Beta
would come up and talk. It never happened. I finally resorted to walking by Mat, but he was way too busy talking to this throng of "fans" to talk to or even notice me hanging around. Finally, I had no choice but to leave. I was miserable there.
Fortunately, I always had my old fallback: a hamburger from the dorm grill and my beloved basketball tapes. Mat didn't come home that night.
I trudged over to the APO office the next day to take the shuttle to the campground. Susan never showed. She had a car, so I figured she might meet us at the campground. She didn't. I really hated going into social situations by myself, but I was "adopted" by a girl named Nancy and her group of friends. Nancy got on my good side immediately by engaging me in a conversation about professional wrestling. She even mimicked Hulk Hogan's hand-to-the-ear thing. I ended up having a great time. After the shuttle took us back to campus, Nancy gave me her number before we all went our separate ways.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I flopped down on the bed. There was no sign of Mat. He never came home that night, which meant he missed Shelly's call...but I was there to take it. "Where's Big Mat?" she asked playfully.
"He's probably at a team function," I said, covering for him reflexively even though no team function could possibly have been going on at that time of night. Certainly not on a Sunday. But Shelly either bought my story or didn't care.
I figure it was the latter, because she said, "Well you tell him he'd better call me the first chance he gets. I've got exciting news."
She tried but couldn't hold it in. "I'm coming back for a visit!"Part 11
Labels: college stories, Livin' Large
please say it's only just 1/3
1) What point in the semester are you?
2) How many installments of Livin' Large should we expect?
Secondly, this is the first I've heard the story about his professor and the affair. It's nice to see something new, even for me. I'd have blackmailed him for some money.
Lastly, @Joe - I can answer #2. As many as he a) has time for before the season begins and b) when blogger.com runs out of room. There is MUCH more to this story.
This series is fantastic by the way. It's making my work day far more tolerable. And you gotta love the Alpha Beta reference. Every Halloween me and 5 other friends put on Beta shirts, go to a bar and act like dicks. Some people even know who the hell we're supposed to be.
Nice cliffhanger. Installment number 11 sounds promising.
Oh, and I'm just going to go right ahead and add "I wanted to tell you, I really liked that paper you wrote on the construction of gender in Ghostbusters. Honestly, it was one of the best freshman papers I've seen" to my list of sentences I never expected to read.
(Then again, I once did a speech in an interpersonal communications class once about the lack of communication skills exhibited by the characters in Saturday Night Fever, so I don't have much room to talk... Granted we had to pick from a limited list of movies to do a speech about, I actually like the Bee Gees, and watching the movie with my then-girlfriend who dabbled in ballroom dancing totally meant I got laid, so I'm not really sure this compares after all. Forget I said anything.)
CAPTCHA: ecterie. A fuller version of ecetera... I like it. Also, is that another way of saying "yada yada yada?" For example, "Mat brought Shelly back to the room, ecterie, and I didn't get a good night's sleep as a result."
Anyway - this professor you mentioned, is that his real name? He sure sounds a lot like Professor Tripp from Wonder Boys, which I'm fairly certain was based on Michael Chabon while he was a professor. Perhaps all English professors are just immoral people?
Aside: stellar class-A idiot. He tells a freshman about something like that?
Also "Then we stopped, wrapped our arms around each other, and got an exceedingly uncomfortable night's sleep." Come on, 'Bawful, you can't leave us wondering why it went this way. "Cut to the chase" is not cool. I want the details.
The big city boys only know to accept their love of casual sexual encounters and alchohol. Both of which you turned down until later in your college life.
On another note: What the hell did you find on gender construction in Ghostbusters? I have got to hear this, if you recall anything.
@BadDave: I love the bastard child of Helen Keller, Wilt Chamberlain line. Very classy, very effective.
Please tell me that in this day and age of global travel, technical writing, and all-star blogging, that we're not dealing with a Mr. Magoo here anymore...
Chris - you were awesome with the lacktion reports. Could you keep count of the facepalms in these stories?
Also, let me put all of you at ease. Basketbawful did figure things out - he's not a 40-year old virgin. For what it's worth, he has more *real* adventurous stories than most of us here. Those just come later.
love the stories and i can't believe last hoops season was the first time i found basketbawful - easily my favorite website.
But something in this one made me snap. I was as shy and pathetic as the next guy in college, but you and your hometown homies are totally, unforgivably lame. Did they actually turn tail and leave town as soon as they saw Big Mat? It's not like he was a fucking gargoyle. I actually found myself sympathizing with him at that moment. And Little Matt, you could have used a big brother to give you some advice with the ladies.
That said, I look forward to the next one.
coz its highly probable they will end up fat. Too fat.
Not only is he in trouble for bouncing almost a million in bad checks at casinos, but check out how he got arrested in truly bawful fashion:
Douglas County sheriff's Sgt. Jim Halsey says Walker was arrested Thursday at a Harrah's Tahoe cabaret bar on Lake Tahoe's south shore.
Deputies were notified of his presence by an employee who had seen a television report about an arrest warrant issued for Walker two days before.
I've NEVER posted on this site, but after espn.com, your website has become the second one that I go to every morning at work.
Today I received this Netflix movie (which I've been anticipating for a week) in the mail, but I paused it just to read your new stories.
Mat btw is a beast in the whole MMA thing. He just looks like a huge boxing kangaroo.
Next installment please!!!!
btw, your roommate sounds like a GReat guy.
younger people have less and less morals these days :P
I was naive about this chocolate thing and women. Naive as I was, I found a wife, NOT crazy about chocolate. She doesn't even care for it. I found it puzzling... Turns out she is a good woman, pretty rational.
From the fight video, I think you would have had time to react at any punch coming your way since it takes 4 minutes for his arms to travel to their point of contact.
Fellow Alumni: 1996 - 2001
A PLEDGE PIN!!!! ON YOUR UNIFORM?!?!?!?
:D Happy Friday, people
I got another question, please pardon me if you've answered it already. Now this is screaming FILM ADAPTATION between every line; who do you want to direct, and who do you want on the cast?
Nice Tycho Brahe reference!
"Ne frustra vixisse videar!"
Great work on the series so far. Aside from being pretty-much awesome, it (and the comments it inspires) also seems to be dispensing a lot of honest bird-and-bees advice I wish I had gotten when I was small. They don't teach fp in school... and my psycho ex loved chocolate.
Anonymous #1 -- I haven't really charted the whole story. However, it feels like we might be about halfway there. We'll see.
Joe -- At this point, it's October. I'm not sure exactly how many installments we have left. Probably another 10 or so.
Sturla -- You just gave me sad face. :(
BadDave -- Eight days.
Skeelo -- I turned down the blowjob because at the time I felt like you had to be in love before you jammed the mandangler into a girl's mouth.
Me and my buddy Skip used to sit at the most famous bar at my school in a window called the Fish Bowl almost every Friday of our senior year, drinking beer and yelling NEEEERRRRDDD at the passers by. Ah, memories.
Anonymous #3 -- There were various times during that semester when Mat seemed pretty cool. It really isn't my intention to make him out to be an ogre. I'm just telling the story of my 18-year-old self.
Dan B -- Re: The Bee Gees. BadDave and I always -- and I mean ALWAYS -- blared "Stayin' Alive" before intramural basketball games.
Anonymous #4 -- Prof. Webster's name has been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.
AnacondaHL -- They were chocolate chip, as those are the ONLY cookies approved by Basketbawful. It's been a few years since I saw Susan, but she had a baby and maintained her figure. So her love of chocolate had no ill effect that I know of.
Wormboy -- It's funny, but when he first started talking to me I thought he might be making a gay pass at me as well. But I was wrong. So the next time an English professor got chummy with me, I thought nothing of it. Turned out he WAS making a gay pass.
Chuck DeBruce -- We simply weren't fast movers. At the time, we both believed people shouldn't rush into sex.
Dan B. -- Not to dispute you guys, but isn't EVERY girl in love with chocolate. I've met exactly one in my life who didn't openly or secretly love chocolate.
Buck Nasty -- I still have the paper saved, actually. The basic gist was that Dana Barrett was independent and professionally/financially successful. She was portrayed as a strong woman, and she initially spurned Dr. Venkman's advances. But in the end she became interested in him (when he became famous for ghostbusting) and devolved into a stereotypical damsel in distress who had to be saved by a man. Dana/Women cannot overcome obstacles without male help. Venkman/men can get shit done on their own. It was a little more in depth than that, but there you go.
Nick Noyes -- The funny thing is, I never start writing with the intention of leaving a cliffhanger, it just kinda happens.
chris -- I have since had plenty of facepalms, but they were for much different reasons. I became a little more slick. I could have gotten more slick by accident at that point.
marty -- It's never too late to join the ranks of the bawfulites. I'm glad you found our humble blog.
drose -- Thanks!
hans q. bungle -- My friends did turn tail and run. And hey, while you're feeling bad for my roomie, what about me? They totally abandoned me and left me to fend for myself at a frat party. It would have been much better to go with them.
BUT OH RIGHT!! I can't believe I forgot this story. It was the third weekend at school my freshman year and frats were rushing. Zach called me on Sunday, when the dorms didn't serve dinner, and suggested we go to a frat rush party for free food. I actually met a couple really nerdy guys at the dorm food service and invited them along. We went to TKE, and they frat brothers locked us in this basement and wouldn't let us out. We were stuck in there for and hour. Then they opened the door and brought in two of the nastiest strippers I have never seen. Just awful. All the guys who had been trapped in that basement practically ran out. No wonder the saying was "If you can't go Greek, go TKE, and if you can't go TKE, go home."
Fundefined -- Wow with the Tycho Brahe reference. No, really. Wow.
Dan B. -- NOOOOOOO!! I WANTED TO BE THE ONE WHO CAUGHT ANTOINE WALKER!!! Wouldn't it have been great if Dog the Bounty Hunter had nabbed him?
Anonymous #6 -- Not really. Mat's days of intimidating me are long past.
Victor -- I didn't drink at that time. First because I was underage and as you can probably tell by this story I had a rather well-defined moral code. However, I went out with Susan about a week after my 21st birthday and began a long and rather storied career in drinking. As BadDave about the long islands at Mardi Gra...oy.
Steve -- First, thank you. Second, what Netflix movie did you put on hold for today's installment?
Fishy -- Hm. It would be interesting to see this as a movie. I'm still planning a podcast version of one of these intallments. These stories are better told in person.
Anonymous #8 -- Hey, Lakers fans are welcome here. No, really. I'm glad you found us, welcome aboard. The next installment will be posted on Monday.
Speaking of Lakers fans, where the bloody hell is Wild Yams???!
Anonymous #9 -- Check out the Livin' Large FAQ. It explains how I remember these things.
As for the Dean...this story took place a long time ago. I'm sure he's moved on since then.
Anonymous #10 -- I know, I know! If Livin' Large hadn't become so popular, I would have been splitting time between it and the Worsties. Alas, I have only so much time to blog!
Shrugz -- Nobody waits any more, do they?
Jason -- Ah. Another alum of my school. Welcome! Yeah, Mat got that bike after we lived together, but my friends always told me when they saw him ride by. It never failed to crack me up.
AK Dave -- Ah, finally with an "Animal House" reference. I almost said "Dean Wormer" a couple comments ago.
Anonymous #11 -- Oooo, a Big 10 rival. Ah, it's okay. If I can be okay with Lakers fans, I can be okay with you.
BJ -- Well, I sure as hell don't want Michael Bay directing. Although it looked like he directed Mat's MMA video, since the whole thing is in slow motion. I'll go with Christopher Nolan as director. I'll cast me as me, Heather Graham as Aimee, Jessica Biel as Susan, and The Big Show (Paul Wright) as Mat.
clyde -- Sometimes I did, sometimes I did. I rarely saw it tho'. It drove BadDave nuts.
RE: chocolate, not every girl is in love with chocolate. There's a difference between a girl liking chocolate, loving chocolate, and being in love with chocolate. If you meet a girl because you have chocolate, trust me. Run for it. I had to learn this the hard way.
RE: Bee Gees... If you don't get pumped up listening to Stayin' Alive, you have no soul. And pretty much their entire early-disco era (Main Course, Children of the World, Spirits Having Flown) is amazing. It's not generic soulless disco -- it's actual good, funky music that gets slotted into the "disco" tag simply because it has a steady, pounding groove most of the time.
And finally RE: Michael Bay, if he directed the movie adapation of Livin' Large, not only would everything be in slow motion, but everything would be really confusing, and there'd be explosions. Lots and lots of explosions. In slow motion. Did I mention explosions? Yeah, and some more slow-motion explosions. Don't get me wrong, I like a nice explosion in a movie, but Michael Bay can rot in hell for ruining action movies for everyone anymore.
AK Dave: I think I have spit on my monitor from you saying "pledge pin." Think I'm gonna go grab my golf clubs and aim straight for your horse, just a heads up.
To whoever asked about not drinking. My soon to be best friend at same college never drank first 3 months of school. Wouldnt even go out with us. Then finally started to come out but not drinking. But by his "senior" year could regularly be found at said bar drinking on his 30 min break from work. It takes some people some time to come out of their shell.
So, you knew all along there would be no banging that night. Obviously, Latrisse's presence just across the room was a good hint, too.
But I have to say you managed yourself pretty well for someone who just had an instant bonner with minimal phisical contact from the same girl. That or you're omitting a teenage PE problem.
I can just feel Latrisse is about to cause a scene, ha. And I suspect Shelly tries to make Mat jealous? This should be amusing!
Or do you now put her on the "google list" with Aimee, once in a blue moon...er...week?
Man, you give so much hope to all the squares out there...well...to the extent that they dream of becoming Successful Bloggers Whose Clark Kent Job Involves Fewer Clotheslines And More Forgettable Writing.
(Oh, and it's ironic that with your last name, I'd use the phrase "Clark Kent job.")
I love the blog, especially the fact that it is well written and takes place at our beloved university!
Happy Writing and BTFU :)
BTW, many hs bball games between your Wildcats and my Bronchos...
That's one of the many many many great parts of that movie.
"Put Niedermeyer on it- he's a sneaky little shit, just like you, isn't he?" :D
BTFU indeed. It's awesome to see all of our alma mater fans on the site. Help some brothers out and pass the word on campus. And I'll pass on the 'bama slammers and stick with the long islands.
J-Shaw - yeah, the Teaks are done. After their entire officer corps got busted for DEALING cocaine, shrooms and pot. That was after being put on double secret probation for countless other stupid shenanigans. It takes a lot for a frat to get shut down on our campus so you KNOW it was bad. It would have been cool if they destroyed that house by Deathmobile.
Bawful - I have so many secrets coming to the grave with me I've purchased 3 plots for my burial. One for me, one for my secrets, and one for yours that I'm lugging around. OH, and let's continue to omit Mardi Gras from our discussions. For both our sakes. Annnd...SSSEEEEVVVEEEN DAYS! TEAM AMERICA!
Anyways, does Saturday mean that the next post is coming on Monday? If so, I'm going to start to hate the weekends.
First and foremost I need to thank you one million times for coming out with the "Livin Large" series. Could not be more entertaining, though I wish you were putting them out at a faster rate! I run the website IllinoisHSBasketball.com, and am a big fan.
As is my job, I read dozens of bball blogs every day. This particular series of posts struck me more so than another entertaining content for an interesting reason. I discovered, and started reading Livin Large just hours after leaving the apartment of a good friend of mine. That friend just happens to be the 7 foot center for a (potential) NCAA tournament team (no future NBA All-Stars though... i think).
Mat and (my friend) have many, many similarities and I find it absolutely hilarious (similarities are more in the category of "sounds like Bob Marley and Arnold" and "was supposed to redshirt freshman year" and less of the different-girl-every-night variety, but still hilarious). Now every time I read a new posting I imagine Mat as looking and talking like my friend, and that makes it sooooo much funnier. When I saw him today I almost had the urge to ask if girls ever left him voicemails asking about his Penis haha.
Thanks again Bawful!
Also, as a fellow alum I am shocked over the disapproval of Stacks. Ending the night with a Green Dragon is how I knew I had a great time!