Freshman Year

Freshman Year of college, approximately 3:30 AM on Thursday night. I know that it was Thursday because my boy Dank had a rootsrockreggae show on Thursdays from 2-4 AM, and that was the binding force that brought this adventure together. Allow me to set the stage.

Roughty was drunk already. Deddog (iii) was not drunk. I was blazed and drunk. We were in iii’s room, playing Furby’s Bad Hairday on N64, and if you don’t get that, I don’t care. 

(Editor Roughty’s Note: Ok, I must step in here.  If you don’t get that reference that is because there is no such game called Furby’s Bad Hairday.  Stoney is just completely baked out of his mind at work and is trying to recall a game called Conker’s Bad Furday.  This phantom Furby game is just an extension of Stoney’s anger for not receiving a Furby last Christmas, like he asked for.  I’m sorry Stoney, for the last time, I thought you said Tickle Me Elmo.  Let it go.)

We were listening to Dank’s radio show, and having a good time, calling in to request songs, etc. Sometimes Dank would play the Beatles, sometimes TribeCalledQuest….it was nice to control the airwaves.

Suityourself was at the show, but he came home around 3 AM on account of his sore vagina. He strolled in to iii’s room, and we all proceeded in good cheer. My roommate, Rootsman, had a bottle of Absolute Mandarin which he had not yet opened. He was at the show with Dank.

I said, “Let’s drink the vodka!”

We all agreed, and popped the plastic seal. Roughty was smashed by this point, and when he gets smashed, he can be coerced into things he would not normally do, like drinks lots of alcohol. HAH! We all took some shots, but Roughty kept spilling his.

“Roughty, dumbass, fucking drink another one, you spilled half of that one out of the glass.”

That trick lasted for about 6-7 shots, and Roughty was TOAST. Fucking Toast. We then planned an adventure.

The dudes from the hall directly below us were our mortal enemies, save a few savages from the baseball team. A bunch of fucking non-savages they were, and it was their turn to get a taste of the real deal. The first part was easy.

We (me, roughty, iii and suit) all crept down the stairs, and Roughty took a piss in their water fountain. Big fucking deal, I know. Whatever, bitch, it was a step, and it was a good first step if you ask me. So Roughty took a big old piss in their water fountain, drunk as shit, and we all had a good laugh and went back upstairs for more strategic planning.

We had a buddy downstairs, his name was Bowflex, because he was the guy who had the abs on the Bowflex commercials. Not really, but he told people that, and they believed him. He was savage, and he was on our team. We decided that we would prank him, and someone came up with the idea.

“Fucking punch his window screens out!”

Window screens were an important part of our life…we liked to keep the windows open, but the screens broke easily. They cost nearly 100$ to replace, so there were many window screen thieveries and related tricks that went on through the year. Roughty had punched out my screen earlier in the week, so it was definitely on our minds. So we decided to punch out Bowflex’s window screens.

“Roughty, punch out Bowflex’s window dude!”

Roughty agreed, in full. All that night, and that week, he had been wearing a bright orange Orioles old-man at the sea hat, rounded off and everything like he’s going to watch a fucking shuffleboard match.

I said, “No way, you shouldn’t wear the Orioles hat, then they will know who you are. Wear my Santa Claus hat to disguise your identity.”

Roughty put my Santa hat on, and we 4 savages crept downstairs again, ready to commit more dastardly deeds. Bowflex’s room was direclty across from the staircase, right at the end of the hall. We stood in the stairwell and watched, as Roughty tried to open the door. LOCKED.

Shit. We cried, we moaned, we agonized, but then, we got our shit together and made a new plan.

“Fuck those bitches, get the first door that’s open, go in, and fucking BUST THEIR SHIT OUT.”

Me, Suit and iii, I swear to God, poked our heads around the corner, one on top of the other, and watched Roughty. Like in the movies.

Roughty tried the door next to Bowflex’s, and it was open. He looked back at us, and we were almost dying with laughter. He slipped into the dark room, and we heard nothing for about 2 or 3 seconds. Silence, like a ninja.

Then, “FIRE IN THE HOLE!” Fucking Roughty screamed his battle cry at full-lung, and proceeded to destroy public, government property.

BAM!!! The first window went easy.


Then, “What the fuck?…” a sleepy non-savage awoke to see Santa Claus severely attacking his screen window. Roughty then picked up a pillow from the non-savage’s bed, and hit him in the face with it, and ran out the door.

A direct hit, 2 windows down. We started screaming, laughing, and turned to bolt upstairs. Fuck Roughty, we were out of this bitch.

In the hallway of the staircase, there was a huge, silver button with a handicap image on it. It was the “Help me, I’m getting raped, and I’m handicapped button” that our school’s HR department had installed in case a handicapped person needed to push a big button for something. Well, boys and girls, as I turned around to get the fuck out of there, I smashed my hand RIGHT ON THE EMERGENCY BUTTON. I smashed it so hard and at such an angle, that my hand immediately started bleeding all over the place. OH SHIT.

A high-pitched alarm went off, very very loudly. My hand was bleeding, and I could barely function because I was laughing so hard at what had just happened. We fell over each other up the stairs, with Roughty bringing up the rear, red-faced and hysterical. We had set off the fucking rape alarm, and had fucked with some douchebags. Nicely done.

We each went to our own rooms, to keep suspicion levels low. Within 3 or 4 minutes, there were 3 campus police cars outside the dorm, lights and sirens flashing. Everybody in the building starting waking up. I had a little weed plant growing in my window, for ambience, and I put it in the closet, crimping him for life. My RA knocked on my door, real loud. Fucking Collins.

“Collins what the fuck is going on dude.”

“You tell me what’s going on, you guys have been up running around, I know this was you.”

“Dude I’ve been asleep for like an hour, what are you talking about.”

He left, and went off to talk to the cops. A minute later he was back, “I know it was you guys, I know you did something, I know it.”

Fuck off Collins, you don’t know shit. We got those bitches.

The next day, the Vice President of the College sent out a campus-wide email that said something to this effect.

Last night, a member of our community was the subject of an attempted robbery. Two large black men broke into a dorm and broke the windows. The students woke up to see the man with his PlayStation 2 in hand, trying to toss it to his partner, who was outside underneath the window.

Let me set the record straight. Roughty is a skinny white boy. There were 4 people in the mix, but none of them were black. We were not stealing shit, we were just wreaking havoc on non-savages who deserved it. I bet they freshened up after the scare with a nice sip from Roughty’s piss water in the water fountain.

Roughty was also wearing a santa claus hat. How the fuck does a skinny white bitch punching out your windows turn into 2 large black men trying to steal your PS2? Fucking babies, those bitches told the cops that two black guys tried to steal their shit…talk about fucking issues.

You got owned, Y1S, you got fucking owned.

That night was a night I will always remember, and I place that extravaganza in the ranks of other famous battles, like the Battle of the Bulge, or Antietam. Courage, honor, fortitude and excessive savagery were needed to carry out our mission, but we did it. I apologize to all those I left out of this story, because we all had our separate duties and missions to carry out. Please, feel free to add more in the comments section.

And lock your doors, bitches, because we are coming to get you.


1 Response to “Freshman Year”

  1. 1 suityourself March 19, 2007 at 8:32 am

    Now, I don’t have anything substantial to add to this one except just to echo the hilarity of the situation. At this point, this was the baddest-assed thing we had done, and it was a fitting initiation into the fraternity of ridiculosity to hich we all pledged our lives during the four years (ok, 3.5 – 6 years) we spent in this godforsaken hell-hole. we had to do shit like this just to survive. The best part of the story is that skinny-Irish roughty got mistaken for a 7-foot black man!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: