Twins Nearly Blow Series; Ragerding Obliterates 5629

"FUUUUCK!!! WE'RE OUT OF COFFEE!!" Knowing how comical this could be, I ventured upstairs Tuesday morning to see a trademark & bashful shit-eating grin by Soberding.  He has been high-strung all week.  His precious Minnesota Twins have clowned their way into MLB postseason after six long months of wondering how poorly the Tigers will finish (exactly .500 going out on a win - good form).  After scoring a preemptive lead of 3-0 last evening, Soberding quietly left the Bang House and retired to troubled sleep.  Another episode of crushed dreams aired tonight as Granderson absolutely pummeled the baseball like it were a match-up between C-Mac and Ocho Loko. 

I haven't seen Ragerding yet, but I know he has already evolved.  I'd say it's safe to assume he hasn't been home yet considering the remote hasn't been thrown through the TV and coffee grounds aren't strewn about the house.  And LeAnn Rimes hasn't been unceremoniously relegated to the front lawn, a sure sign of Ragerding.  I really fucking hope the Twins pull this one off, I like having a working TV and a fridge that isn't somehow broken in eight different pieces with bite marks missing.

The Indefatigable Mos

Some of you may be wondering, "Wow, all the freshmen and... A.I... are now in relationships.  Hmm, that's odd."  Not at all.  Let me remind you:  Big Fuckin' Bob is single.  Now is the best time to lock down some prospect before Big Bob awakens from his stupor and goes on the hunt.  Not surprisingly, Tarry took it upon himself to seek out some dude simply because he "didn't want to feel left out." 

Cadillac and DP are on to something that others may need to consider.  Now that the Mos is out of its cage, there's no telling who its victims will be.  The least you should try to do is deter, making the womenz on campus feel like they have some sort of obligation to not be seduced by the Mos.  I can't imagine how stressed out Schnod and C-Patty must be now that their efforts have been thwarted.  Schnod: better mustache, more rebellious.  C-Patty: Not so damn creepy.  Calm down with the Mike's.  Jesus. 

If you guys are to have any hope... in... wait a second... I just realized....

The Mozz has already struck.  And evidently it doesn't mean anything if you think you "have" a girlfriend.  With roughly six feet and 135 pounds of allure, he makes for a very efficient swooping machine.

Tarry just walked in and started whining about how sore handball made him: "I didn't even know what was going on, my back is so sore right now - all the way to the top from the bottom - and balls were everywhere," or something like that.  "What is that shit and why won't it come off?" - Direct quote just now.

Brief Thought

Why are there so many homeless cats in NoPo?

One more update to come tonight.  It's been an academically busy day for Xmas.  Nine hours of class/week can be tough, Tarry.

Casual Gradual School

-Yes, you're allowed a 3 by 5 card. - Professor Easton
"And that's 3 inches by 5 inches, not 3 feet by 5 feet - I tried that!" - Grad School Class Clown
-... ... No he didn't. - Easton

This champ is in two of my three classes.  He's always the one with lots of business experience (he's like, 45 years old) that has something to say about everything.  Quick with a joke at the expense of interrupting the professor, he sometimes get laughs, mostly  from himself.  Main differences between this clown and an undergraduate clown are very obvious.  He's at least 20 years older, much less optimistic about life (jokes = insecure front), and always wears a suit.  His name is Jeff and he's always fucking swiveling in his chair chewing on a pen.  He's still single, but that's just like the undergrad.

Compare Jeff to that One Kid in Spanish class.  The one that rolls his tongue really well (what.) and jokes around with the teacher in Spanish, likely talking trash about how you pronounce your rr's or some bullshit that Big Bob never took the time to care about.  Now that I think about it, I imagine having class with A.I. is a lot like this.  Except instead of telling jokes, he probably just mocks all the unbelievable retards that answer questions incorrectly.  Ha, morons.

Woeful Detroit

Tonight's preseason matchup between the Pistons and the Heat has drawn much media attention as this is the first time the "Big 3" will be playing together.  Despite being a preseason game, and despite the fact that everyone hates Lebron James now except bandwagoners (Silvey), I'm sure many GC'ers will be tuning in.  With the fantasy draft this Sunday (4:30 PM), Chopkins should be shitting himself crazy right now just trying to figure out what a power forward is.  They don't have basketball in the UK, right?

It's no secret that this nation is trying to seal the deal on Detroit's ultimate crumbling.  Not only are the Lions indefinitely bogged down with the Ford family, but now LeBoshAne are about to go Harlem Globetrotting on the Pistons.  Dammit.  You can never take Datsyuk away from us.

Other news: JgaMayn apparently confused the set agenda over the weekend.  I never said try to go through the window of a bar, trying to get into the dance.  You silly guy, you.

Weekend Betting Lines: Results

Here are the results from this weekend.  If you don't know how betting works, I'm not going to teach you.

Winners are boldly underlined.

Spreads:
Half the team's combined pursuit (-30) vs. Charlie's Triumph with S.U.F.G. (Huge upset, not sure whether to commend C-Mac for pulling this one off, or to be disappointed in others' failure to utilize teamwork.)
Post-Willamette debauchery (-10 now after RC's talk.  Otherwise, -45) vs. Tame Saturday evening (No details needed on this one.  This outcome was based solely on RC's demeanor Sunday morning.  Yikes.)
Team G.C. (-18) vs. Combined team of all other individuals at Willamette (sure G.C. beat the combined team, but only by 6.  Would have needed a lot of displacement to get 18.)
Restless nights staring at the ceiling (-25) vs. Xmas sleeping soundly (Although I only got 5 hours of sleep Friday night, my window is currently broken/cannot be closed.  With an influx of cold temperatures, I'm beginning to finally get timely rest.)

Over/Under:
Grape Crushers under 25 minutes:  15 - EVEN.  Exactly 15 (including Frosh) GCers finished under 25 minutes with 3 more unbelievably close.
People that forget Sunday practice is at 8:30: 1.5 - OVER.  JgaMan (...) and St. Thomas missed the boat on that one.
Domino's Orders (extremely relevant, but straight from The Blerg): 2.5 - UNDER.  I speculate there were more, but I only know of one placed by Cwhan in time of need.

Banqueting - 2nd Guest Post

 

 DJ's heartfelt message (best post yet) predictably inspired others to speak their minds.  Here, T-Bar breaks down this evening's supper.

"As we all sat well-groomed amongst the other sports teams during the athletic banquet I found myself entranced in my comrades styles and swagger. Here are some of my observations that I jotted down in my mental notebook when I wasn’t bullshitting with RC.

English Gentlemen- Although AScott seems unassuming while sporting some combination consisting off cross country shirt, grey hipster beanie, and camouflage shorts, he cleans up well. Walking over to the Chiles I thought I was amongst the company of James Bond. I’m not really sure about the hair straightening though.

Zombieland- A.I. took particular pleasure in his evening to shine. While racking up the hardware you couldn’t tell if he was really pissed off or just “fucking goddamn tired”. Perhaps he was plotting a way to torture Charlie into following him on the next Sunday long run. Or maybe he had some erectile difficulties with a certain lady friend. Who knows?

Bethany McCinturff- Or should I say lack there of. As we all enjoyed our crusty enchiladas she was busy with her nose in her books, no doubt angered by Marit’s academic prevail. Let’s all hope she’s mentally alright after that stunning upset.

Sinatra looked like a hobo- JBass made sure to put us all to shame with his snappy tuxedo (or whatever the hell that was) and his fashionably late entrance. The golden boy was looking sharp!

Squilliam C.- As his guilty looks sent a lot of questions through the air, there was surely only one thing on his mind. “She better have swallowed that fucking pill.”

RC - In traditional brown western button up and semi-spandex khaki-like pants, RC was his normal witty self. Questioning among a variety of things, if Sean Thomas banged that one Soccer chick.

Back to the Basics- Garse: Greasy hair, boating shoes, cross country sweatshirt…basketball shorts? The usual.

I would enjoy writing more but I think it’s time for a library sesh. I hope Charlie and S.R.F.G.  (Significantly Remarkable Freshman Girl) are not around.

Yours truly,

T-Bar"

Xmas note: Chopkins devoured 8 "biscuits" and 2 brownies.  Welcome to America.  You'll be eating cheese soon enough.