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Date Posted: 14:15:18 10/06/02 Sun
Author: The Great Brendini
Subject: Why I'm the worst left tackle

So yeah, the other night I go with my friend JD to NYU to party with Lan in his dorm. We'd been drinking, hittin' the hookah, and havin' a blast. So I says, let's kill that bottle of gin I brought. Everyone thought it was a good idea. So we're passin' it around, takin swigs, when I watch Lan's "pro" of a suitemate, Alex, guzzle down that gin like it was Lan's man juice. I knew he was in for it, but didn't really know how far gone he'd get. Within 3 minutes of breakin out the bottle, Alex goes from annoyingly beligerant to not blinking and hardly breathing. Alex's roomate, Miguel, who's half irish/half mexican, hey just like all of us, is sitting there screaming at Alex saying he's a stupid fuck and lying about being wasted. So JD and I attempt to pick Alex up, not realizing how much of a fat fuck this kid really is, and it was all dead weight. Since we were in Lan's room, we just took him to Lan's bathroom and shoved him in the tub, in order to contain the inevitable. A couple of minutes pass by, and Alex hasn't improved at all and has yet to vomit. So what would an NYU kid do? Well, let me tell you. Lan's friend, Liz, who we all met at Goodman's over the summer, the girl who brought Woodstock with her, decides to stick her fingers down Alex's throat. His reply is actually "I love you, Liz." But he won't throw up and he seems to be passing out. Not good. So Liz turns the water on and we watch him start to move a bit. Ok, we're doin better. Well, after a few minutes of a shower in full clothing, Alex starts to rub his arms. I noticed he was getting a bit red on his forarms, so I test the water. Yeah that's right, Liz didn't realize she turned it on to ludicrously hot. Alex's forarms were getting burned. So I turn it to cool, and he stops squirming like the tubby bastard he is. After a few minutes, he doesn't like the cold water and tries to get up, which at this point, ain't happening. He tells Liz he now hates her, so she leaves for a bit. He takes one long look at me, and tells me he hates me. I ask him why, and he replies with an incoherent, "cuz yer the worst fucking left tackle ever." i nearly pissed myself when he told me this, but then i asked him how that was possible. "Because fuckin San Diego man, fuckin' San Diego...NEVer...san.ehhhhhahhhhhhh." So I turned the cold water back on him. By now he's got quite an audience, all in histerics. A few minutes pass with him fighting all that beer and gin from comin' back up. This is not a fight Alex can win. Sure enough, he starts to rumble a bit from the inside, and the room clears as his first heave doesn't quite stay in the tub with him. Knowing damn well how much a sloppy bastard Lan can be, I save him the trouble of having any more vomit on his floor. So I'm held this random dude's head in the tub's perimiter while he booted his brains out. Meanwhile everyone outside is moving on with the night, eventually realizing i'm still in the bathroom. Alex seems to be finished with his bootin, so i leave. I go outside, and Lan's response to my heroism is, "Yo Brendo, I was just tellin' everyone how I never knew you to be very helpful. Thanks man." We all had a good laugh, then I showed Lan the floor and the puke-stained suitemate passed out in Lan's tub. I fell to the floor laughin' when I saw Lan's face. All I gotta say is you owe me one Lan. But I had a helluva time there. Great party as usual.

Keim

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