« Home | Pardon the Delay » | Pizza Subterfuge » | Just For Confusion » | Whither the Statue? » | The Toilet Attorney » | The Fountain of Youth » | Tell Us What You Really Think » | Catching Olympic Fever (Or At Least a Rash) » | In Case You Missed It » | Clear the Schedule Tonight »

The Official Dork Alert

Next weekend, I'm heading to Ann Arbor to watch the mighty Michigan Wolverines suffer their first loss of the Rich Rodriguez era to one of my alma maters, Utah. (For those who keep track of these things, I have three former colleges - Virginia Tech, Utah, and Marquette.* There will be a quiz.)

On this trip, I'm going to be meeting up with some of my fraternity brothers from college, most of whom I haven't seen for at least 12 years. So I'm excited for the reunion.

In getting ready for the big event, I went back and watched some of the unfortunate video that exists of me from my college years. Sadly, almost none of it is appropriate to post. But I did find one clip that should silence those who don't buy my whole story about not being able to get a date in college.

Here's the setup: in March of 1994, I piled into a car with my housemates George and Hutton, and we took a bargain basement spring break trip to Arizona State. (It was pure genius to go to a college campus during spring break, incidentally - as it was completely empty.) We were virtually penniless, and the trip involved a lot of sleeping in the car. George, who was from Seattle, remembered a girl he went to high school with (nicknamed "The Watts") who went to Arizona State, so we decided to crash her apartment and plead with her to let us stay there.

As it turns out, she said yes - but the best part was, she had some smoking hot roommates that we convinced to drink with us. What follows is a video of the general tone of the evening - you'd think I had never seen a woman before in my life (I was a month short of 21 years old.)



Good grief. As I recall, we spent the night there, were asked to leave, and ended up sleeping in the car on some side streets in Vegas for a few nights. And, sadly, I kind of miss those days.

* - Sadly, I was unable to complete my degree at the Institute for Equine Therasage, as I never figured out whether it was the horse giving or receiving the massage.