When you think of the phrase 'Lady's Man,' you might instantly jump to men like George Clooney, the Old Spice Guy, Ca$hlock, John Stamos, Joey from Friends... the list goes on and on. But when I hear the phrase 'Lady's Man,' only one name comes to my mind, and that is the one and only Caleb Ramsey. You may haven't heard of the guy. He rarely leaves his room these days, even when old friends come to hang out. But regardless of whether or not you've heard of this hunk of filet mignon, I assure you that no body pulls tail like Mr. Ramsey. If you don't believe me, Bailey Blackburn can tell you one or two... or three or four or five stories. Caleb basically ran England back in those days, but it wouldn't be until he left to conquer Ireland where his legend grew to unbelievable heights.
In a tiny little pub in Ireland, Caleb was just hanging out and havin' a good time. The music started to pick up a little bit, and it was obvious that now was the time for dancing. As a young, single man often does, Caleb was on the hunt that night. Little did he know that he would be landing a cougar. Yes, you heard correctly, a slightly dumpy, at least 40 year old woman, who probably had five children back at home. It was a low point in his epic career of action. But sometimes you have to pay the price for such dashing good looks and irresistible charm. With great power sometimes comes with a huge lapse in judgment.
Now this story alone was pretty bad, and Caleb thought that he had hit rock bottom. I definitely thought that he had hit rock bottom. Seriously, it was bad. But a few weeks later, Mr. Suave himself landed himself a ticket to watch some soccer team in Manchester play... the name escapes me. Fortunately for myself, I wasn't there, so I don't have this evening scarred into my brain forever. Caleb enjoyed the game immensely, and again decided that a night at the pubs was in order. Nothing wrong with a little celebration right?? The civilians of Manchester were certainly in a good mood, and Caleb was a bit taken aback by the sheer politeness of some of the guys he was hanging out with. I mean, they really liked him! Caleb was used to being popular, but this! He didn't have to buy a single thing that night. Everything was on his new found buds. Just when he thought his luck couldn't get any better, a few things started to seem a little off... Was it possible? No... surely not...uh oh...
Yep. Turns out all those friendly high fives and back rubs and lord know what else were sneaky attempts at seduction. Caleb walked right into the gay section of Manchester, and was just as successful with the men as he is with the women. Luckily he escaped without any regretful actions, but when I heard the story, I had to hand it to the guy... He can literally pull WHOEVER he wants.
Unfortunately Caleb was unavailable for comment. Between his girlfriend and literally nothing else, he couldn't spare a single minute. But I don't want Keslie to feel threatened by all of the humanity that wants a piece of this Colorado man. If anything Keslie, you should feel extremely confident about the future. Even when your a 40-year old cougar, he's still going to be ALL over you.
What's up with it Lene-Town! The second roast is in, so let me see ya put ya handdddds up! Aight aight aight you already know, you already know how I do. Tonight we have the flyest thing to eva come outta East Texas, straight from Clutch City itself. It's H-Town's one and only AAAAAMMMMYYYY Robbbbiiinnnnssss!
Das right, we got the freshest thing on the market right here live in the 12 Roasts of Christmas, so I think it be only appropriate if we got a little background on Amy Robbins. Before Nikki Manaj ever shook all dat in her jeans, before MIA was flyin' high like paypuh, even before Danity Kane was show stoppin' err party she walked into, Amy was settin' the new standard for Miss New Booty. She brought it togetta and brought it back to everyone, and it all started in H-Town, naw meen.
But imma get real wichya real quick. Not everything was all lipsitck poppin' and boots wit da fur for Amy in the beginning. Raised in the ghetto, Amy had a lot of obstacles to ovacome. I know it's hard to believe, but I heard it from her own mouth, she said, "Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got." Being of half-black heritage, she was constantly bein' discriminated against by the white man, da odds were always stacked against her. She always had dat passion to drop beats like bombs, but she never knew if she would eva get out da ghetto. And then that magical night. It happened at the club, know what I'm sayin', right after 'Grind on Me' by Pretty Ricky dropped, there was an invuhtation fo' an open mike freestyle smackdown. She was scurred fasho, but somethin' beyond dis physical world pushed her onto dat stage. Before she knew what was happenin', she found herself starin' straight into the eyes of the lead singer for FrEsh fAm, the illest dirty south rap group to eva hit the streets of H-Town. At that moment... well I think Rihanna says it the best, "She found love in a hopeless place." They passed those awkward smiles, naw meen ;), and then the beat dropped. FrEsh fAm started droppin' lyrical hurricanes on da mike, spinnin' togetta' rhymes that aint EVA been heard befo'. He finished up his verses and dropped da mike at Amy's feet. The next few moments created a legend that aint eva been topped in H-Town. Amy took her mike and proceeded to crush the beat, movin to da music and shufflin' those feet! Her lines were so raw, the crowd was goin' out of its mind. When she finished, the club went up in cheers, hailing the clear winna of the most epic rap battle of da century. But for Amy, that was nothing compared to the love that formed with FrEsh fAm. A romance that makes Da Notebook look like a joonya high dance exploded, and with that Amy's career as the most hood chick in the world started, fueled by FrEsh fAm. Sadly it it came to an end, an end that inspired every soulful R&B song for the next few years. But You can still catch Amy droppin' those freestyles everynight in the Lene Town. Les give it up to Amy Robbins!
Lincoln Woods, also known as Nathan 2.0, arrived in Abilene around a year ago. As I vacated my dorm room, there he was lined up to take my spot. From the word go, Lincoln just couldn't wait to introduce Lene-Town to all of his San Antonio swag. Hailing all the way from Boerne, Texas, It would be an understatement to say Lincoln ran that town like a god. One of his greatest attributes is his humility, and because of this he didn't even want to leave Boerne, stating that he didn't know what the poor city would do without him. After ensuring that a statue of himself was built to immortalize his legend, he finally turned away, sad, but excited about establishing himself in a new town.
From his body to his dance moves, you be hard pressed to deny Lincoln's incredible presence. If you haven't seen his breath-taking dance moves, you only have to observe him for a mere five seconds before you will undoubtedly witness awesome incarnate. Even LMFAO regards his shuffles with pure jealousy.
Art students last semester all had the privilege of viewing his chiseled body. Lincoln, not wanting to deprive anyone of his marble abs, quickly signed up to be a model. He didn't have to try too hard to gain this prestigious job: the art department practically begged him. And who could blame him? Sadly he chose not to take up his position this semester, stating that it was his fault for the alarming spike in failing grades in female art students. Apparently they just couldn't stop eye-goggling his pecs, and failed to turn in a single project. When asked about his, Lincoln shrugged his shoulders and said, "I-I-I work out."
Lincoln has made his presence known in many many other ways. Since everyone already thought he was the coolest and suavest man on campus, he decided to make himself more accessible by really taking control of the social world. Ever find yourself alone at your house? Don't worry, there's a good chance he'll just stroll on in uninvited to cheer you up! How convenient is that? You don't even have to ask him! The social network Twitter has also reaped the benefits of Mr. Lincoln Woods, and the ACU student body is very thankful that they can check twitter every two seconds for a new update on Lincoln's extraordinary life.
I must sadly end this on a more melancholy note. This year, it seemed as if every woman on campus had Lincoln on her Christmas list. I'm sad to break the news that Lincoln is no longer a bachelor, but is in an incredible relationship with Miss Laura Quile. Thankfully, if you haven't heard enough about it, you can simply follow him on twitter to learn all about it!
I think I'm finally getting back into the swing of things with this blog. My consistency has been atrocious, and I apologize. Not that anyone reads these or anything, but I like to believe that my blog is one of those blogs that earns two hundred grand a year through advertisements and a multitude of followers. I prefer this fantasy over the painful fact that Drew is probably my most avid follower. Talk about depressing. Where is Drew now-a-days anyway? South Africa? I read somewhere that over 50% of all males in South Africa have admitted to some sort of sexual assault, a staggering statistic. Drew may return a criminal, knowing his tendencies. I apologize; sexual assault is a terrible thing to joke about. My deepest condolences to those offended. But enough tangents; I always hated calculus anyways. I guess pretty much everyone back home is abroad somewhere. Drew is raising the statistic to 51% (again my deepest condolences) in South Africa, Trav is in Uganda (?), KY is in Brazil, I'm in Germany, and Emily and Claire will be with me tomorrow, Amara will be in New York in a week... Everyone's traveling! This year has been my first time to really 'travel.' Not that I needed to travel; one who is born in Texas has pretty much seen all anyone really needs to see. Nevertheless traveling across Western Europe has been an enlightening experience, an experience that has taught me quite a bit. It hasn't changed my life or anything, and do I ever hate it when people attribute a flight across the Atlantic as a 'life-changing' experience. Tangents again, I will stop. But I have had an excellent time country-hopping over here. I left France last Monday hearing French, woke up Tuesday to Italian, listened stupidly to whatever the heck version of German the Swiss speak, and today I am sitting in an internet café listening to Germany-German. I wish I could learn all of these languages. Sometimes when I just sit and listen, something that I've done quite a bit of, I almost think I can understand what's being said. This is silly, of course, because I don't even know how to say 'thank you' in German. I guess it's kind of an osmosis thing; I feel like I've been squeezed into all of these new cultures, and though I'm foreign to them, I'm still living and operating within them. It's a neat sensation; you should try it out some day. Anyways, this was more of an update than a real blog. I'm camping outside tonight! Booking hostels is for chumps.
I haven't blogged in a long time. Deal with it. Tonight I am spending my last night in France. I've been visiting this wonderful country for a little over two weeks now. Cities such as Niort, La Rochelle, Blois, Marseille, and Clermont-Ferrand have all experienced my presence, but tonight, Lyon has the pleasure and honor of sending me away to my next adventure. France has been... excellent. I have a little rajun' cajun French blood running through my veins, and I've felt a desire for quite a while to explore the origins of some of my heritage. During my time here, I've seen some spectacular sites, breathtaking terrains, and a plethora of nationalities. But there has been bumps in the road, particularly the language barrier. I don't speak French. Je ne parle pas Française, désolé. My first couple of days were the roughest. The little city of Niort speaks about as much English as the adults from Charlie Brown. Ordering a slice of pizza was harder than convincing an ACU student to wait past the age of 20 to get married. Ok, it wasn't that hard, but you get the picture. To my utmost astonishment, I found myself today following rapid French conversations around a family dinner table. I cannot comprehend how I have managed to pick up so much French in such a short amount of time. Real talk, I have learned more French in two weeks than I learned Spanish in two years. It is incredible. But that's what happens when you listen to it for ten hours a day. I'm miles and miles away from mastering the language, obviously, but I'm astounded at how much I learned in such a short amount of time; in fact, I'm sad to leave because if I stayed longer, I could continue to learn French.
Besides the language, I've also enjoyed all of the history and scenery of France. The Chateau D'If in Marseille was an awesome experience. If 'Chateau D'If' doesn't ring any bells, then shame on you. I've also entered into some truly breath-taking cathedrals, read for hours in colorful gardens, and soaked up the sun on the beaches. And the food was okay, I guess ;)
But life in France is not always a walk in the park. To aid my fellow travelers, I've compiled my very own French survival guide. Who needs Rick Steves when you have me?
Nate's French Survival Guide
Survival Tip #1: The dreaded 'R.' It seems like every Romance language has that blasted trick that you have to grow up performing in order for it to be executed perfectly. Français is no exception. The 'R' is pronounced in the back of the throat, like your choking on Keith's burgers. The next time you feel a little apprehensive about attempting the French 'R,' just remember the last time you suffered from Bronchitis, and repeat the voracious noises that used to come out of your mouth then.
Survival Tip #2: Just eat it. Let's face it: France is known for having the best food in the world. Let's face it: You don't always know what your ordering in France. For the queasy stomach this can pose a problem. The good news is, even if your eating the ears and intestines of a pig, which I have, it's going to be the best meal you've ever had. So when in doubt, remember this catchphrase that I coined: "Ignorance is Bliss."
Survival Tip #3: We've all heard the stereotypes of the French people. They're rude, smelly, and proud. I can testify that none of these are true! Ok, maybe the gym in Clermont-Ferrand smelled like Franklin Middle School's locker room, but for everything else, I've found that you get what you give. Even in Paris, I had nothing but positive experiences.
Survival Tip #4: The French don't hate English. Yes, you read correctly. Let me explain: It is true that finding a soul who speaks English can be a challenge, especially in smaller French towns. One hears all kinds of reasons, for example, the French are too proud to speak English. This is false. The French like to pretend that they don't like English, kind of like Barton pretends to live in Abilene. It goes with their whole persona. In fact, the French LOVE speaking English, and they especially LOVE learning all of our ridiculous idioms. And I'm not being sarcastic.
Survival Tip #5: The Cigarette: This one is huge, so read carefully. Smoking cigarettes may be a common past time in America, but it's a full-contact sport in France. If you really want to experience the French culture, you have to have a cig in your mouth. What's that? You don't smoke? That's fine. You can pull a Will Smith: "Just bite it, it's for the look, I don't like it." Then your ready to get jiggy with it.
Survival Tip #6: Tahw Did Uoy Yas? If your confused, then you should be. So let's say that your hanging out with some hip young French people, and your trying to 'Be Cool.' Despite your heroic efforts though, you just can't succeed. The reason for your dismal failure is simple: Your not speaking the Inverse. As if French wasn't hard enough, there is a popular slang dialect called 'The Inverse,' where, you guessed it, they speak French backwards. Don't ask me why. I'm not making this up either. I about through the towel in on learning this French business when I heard about the inverse. So next time you find yourself shunned in a corner at a French party, just start saying words backwards. You'll be the coolest kid on the block in no time.
Survival Tip #7: Pronunciation. Pronouncing French words can be a daunting task. The trick to doing this is simple though. All you have to do is cut off the last 17 letters of a word, and you're pronouncing French. It makes sense, because now every words sounds exactly like the other. For instance, the words for 'water,' 'high,' and 'where,' all sound almost identical. Tired? Yah me too.
Survival Tip #8: Eat a snack. Because you won't be eating dinner until nine or ten. It's a far cry from the five o'clock rush to the Bean as soon as it opens. This definitely took time to get adjusted to. But usually the wait is well worth it, as the food is always magnifique.
Survival Tip #9: Don't stare at the wine like an idiot. At some point or another, you'll end up in a bougeoui restaurant, and your waiter is going to pour a little bit of wine into one glass. If your like my friends and I the first time this happened, we just kind of stared at the waiter, until we figured out that we were supposed to sample it before he poured the rest of the glasses. So when this happens, sip it, smile and say, "C'est bon."
Survival Tip #10: Pucker up. The French are an intimate people, and if you intend to make some French friends, then your going to have learn "Le Bis." Le Bis is the famous double European kiss. There's no getting around it. It's better to be prepared, because it just happens out of no where. This will save you the awkward moment of trying to disguise your handshake as a suave dance move as your new friend leans in for Le Bis. If you are in a large group going to meet another large group, I would suggest bringing some reading material. Greetings can take a long time, like convincing Drew that making the Highland Power-Points is not actually cool.
Well there you have it. I hope that you will find this helpful on your next trip to the land of Baguettes and Fromages.
Until next time.
P.S. Survival Tip #11: Don't let Tahiry, or any other Razafimanjato teach you French. They will just laugh at you.
I feel calm and reflective right now. I think this post will be calm and reflective to match my mood. Today's been a good day. 'Good' isn't a very academic adjective, but I think it's the appropriate word for today. God made the world and it was good, and today was good. The weather is uncharacteristically mild with a little splash of sunlight, the house is quiet, I'm well rested, I'm in England, and Adam Young is playing through my speakers. Peace. I've done a lot of activities here in Oxford and in the nearby cities; things that I've never experienced before, or at least never experienced in this unique style. Public transport has been one adventure--a battle might be a more appropriate term--that I've adjusted to, the ever-exciting pub life is always an opportunity to never miss, and just gazing open-jawed at the stunning architecture is inspiring. I've found my midnight snack equivalent to McDonalds: Ali's Kebab stand. Ali's serves kebabs which are not skewed surprisingly enough. This is probably obvious actually, but I've always associated kebabs with a metal spear through them. Ali's is only five minutes walking distance away, and I can get a whopping portion of chips and lamb kebab meat for £3.50. On the Hoof has become my Little Panda equivalent for a quick, cheap, delicious meal. They serve hot and toasty baguette sandwiches there for under £4. Mainly I 'cook' up pasta and rice and chicken with various sauces on top, or I let the master chef Hutton Brown cook for me.
If I had to pick my absolute favorite part about England though, I would have to say I've enjoyed the Gothic churches, namely St. Paul's Cathedral. St. Paul's is... astounding. No, astounding doesn't quite do it justice. Hutton said it the best:
"I could spend hours describing the intricately carved statues and moldings that permeated the towering structure. I could strain the English language to attempt to give you the experience of gazing up at murals so real and so poignant. I could search for hours for adjectives to adequately describe the magnitude of the structure, but even more shocking was the walls that were covered with beautiful paintings showing scenes of the Bible in an artistic perspective. One could sit and gaze for an endless amount of time and still miss a detail of a painting that made it all the more beautiful. I could attempt to string together a list of adjectives to describe the experience of sitting in an ancient, wooden chair and listening with eyes closed to the choir weaving melodies so flawlessly it seemed to come as natural as breathing. Sound echoed of the walls of the tower mixing songs of praise with glorious murals devoted to Christ welding both sound and sight into a worship experience that overwhelmed the senses. I could attempt to do all these things, but there is no way to describe the experience."
And that's really how it is. I can't really describe the beauty of this awesome feat and encompass the magnitude of its architecture. You have to see it to believe it. The building itself was a worship to God. Even if your like me and think that God isn't interested in big and expensive buildings, it's hard to escape the worship that reverberates off of the painted dome.
There was a strict no camera rule, so I had to be sneaky with this video. Sorry that it's not the best shot!
For the most part I consider myself a level-headed person, especially when the pressures on. In fact when the clock is ticking, that's when I'm in my prime because it's do or die time. I also consider myself to be a patient person--now before you object let me explain. By patient I mean that I'm not really in a hurry. Admittedly I am prone to agitation and frustration which I blame on the Thibodeaux's. Finally I like my sleep. Nay, I love my sleep. Mornings and I have never really seen eye to eye. Oddly enough I am prone to phases of insomnia where I hardly sleep at all. Now that you have this background, I would like to welcome you on board to the virtual ride of Nathan's trip to York. We woke up at 4:45 Friday morning so we could catch our 6:00 train out of Oxford to London. If this wasn't bad enough, I had a stint of insomnia the previous night so I had no sleep. My friends, I was one sleepy hombre. Anyways we make it to the train station and we go up to order our train tickets. A couple of weeks ago we all got return tickets plus and all-day underground pass to London for £12.50, so we were expecting the same today. I found out just how inexperienced I am with the rail system in Europe. When we went to London it was a Saturday and it wasn't at 'peak time.' This was a Friday, right smack in the middle of peak time. End of story was that we got one-way tickets with a one-way underground for the gutting price of £30. Ouch. But whatever. We were going to York and it was a cheap trip anyways.
Our confidence in getting to York quickly started to dwindle when we got on the train, as we watched the clock tick past 6, and then 6:15, and then 6:30. We had a bus to catch out of London to York at 8:15 and it takes over an hour to get to London, and then we had to find where the coaches left and all that jazz. And I had no sleep the night before. I was uncharacteristically pessimistic and characteristically pissed. How can a train already be delayed that early in the morning?? But finally we pulled out at 6:45 and arrived in London at 7:45. But by the time we got off the underground at King's Cross where the coaches took off, we had five minutes to figure out where the heck we were supposed to go and then actually physically get there. AHHHH. Things looked grim and it didn't help that the staff at King's Cross kept pointing to the trains and telling us that we had to get on. I'm practically yelling trying to explain that our tickets are for a bus and not a freakin' train! But since we weren't getting anywhere we went ahead and hopped on the appointed train that was heading for East Midland Parkway--with 30 seconds to spare. At this point I'm positive that we are not going anywhere close to York. But this story turned out to be a Comedy and there was a bus (delayed) to pick us up in East Midlands to take us to York. I just wish our ticket would have said that we had to take a 2 hour train ride in the middle of the trip!
York was excellent. We got an awesome hostel that was spotlessly clean, provided a complimentary yummy breakfast, and had nice staff. And nobody was raped.
It was interesting though. Since we had hardly slept the night before we were all exhausted, so we went to bed early around 9 o'clock, and it was just us four in the room. When I woke up in the morning, I rolled out of bed to find six strange men sleeping in the previously empty beds. I've never slept in a hostel so I was a bit taken aback, but I guess that's pretty normal.
The city was awesome. York used to be controlled by vikings. We visited a viking museum that had an actual ride built in that took you through an average day in the life of a viking. There were even specific smells during different scenes, like fish by the river and stew in the huts. We went to Evensong at York Minster Cathedral. Cathedrals never cease to mesmerize my brain, and York Minster was no exception.
Clifford's Tower was incredible too, and it gave an excellent view of the entire city center. Castles are just so majestic and mighty. We also got to walk around the original castle wall the encircles the city center! Legit.
York has tons of posters that advertise ghost tours at night. What sounded cool quickly lost its appeal when we saw about the seventieth unique ghost tour sign. However we did find one sign promoting a Viking Walk around York, and the tour guide was some published author. Eh, why not? It ended up being awesome. This nutter dressed like a Viking gave us an incredible tour of the spots in York where the Viking invasions and defeats took place. The guy really knew his stuff. Keith would have been proud to hear the story of one of his relatives who stood alone and defended a bridge from the Anglo-Saxons; cutting off 42 heads in the process.
That about sums up our trip! York's a sweet place. I wish I would have gotten an 'I Love York,' shirt. But yah York is definitely worth your time if you ever find yourself in the area!
It's way too hard to find time to blog up here. The past couple of weeks have been chocked full of tons of awesome things, but also full of a ton of homework and planning. Seriously, I think that the Morgans have forgotten that we're here on vacation, not to study! Each week we've been assigned over 300 pages of reading, and we've written 10 pages of various assignments. The upside is that 200 of those pages are from Lord of the Rings, so at least the reading is worthwhile. But I've read LOTR multiple times, and I want to read some of my own stuff... oh well.
I've drank so much tea here.
Where to begin? How about London? London it is. Last Saturday Caleb, Bailey, Lizzy, Ashley, Tanner, Allye, Amara, and I hopped the train to London for the day. This was my first train ride, and it really wasn't that exciting. We got to London and immediately my adventure with the Underground began! I don't know how many tubes we got on and switched, but I felt like a cowboy wranglin' some calves, the way we were just hoppin' on and off like we owned the place. We started off at the British Museum, which is enormous. They have over 7 million items on display. We spent a couple hours, and I feel like we barely made a dent. My personal favorites were the mummies!
It was bitterly cold and drizzly, and we travelers were starving. We ducked into a Mediterranean restaurant because it was the closest place with central heating. It ended up being pretty tasty and I got some Turkish coffee that was delicious. After our meal, we walked by parliament and Big Ben. Big Ben is indeed quite big. It's... Well I'll just let Caleb and Tanner tell you:
It was tough to fight the urge to pull a Guy Fawkes, but overall I think it was wise that no attempts on the destruction of Parliament were made. Real talk though, Parliament and Ben were stunningly beautiful, as is all of the gothic style architecture in England. It never ceases to amaze me how impressive these feats were without all of the modern technology that we have today.
We joined a protest in the streets of London for a while because it was taking up the street on the way to the Underground. That was fun. They were pissed about education cuts, hence their chant, "No ifs! No Buts! No Education Cuts!" Interestingly enough, the more people I talk to, the more I get the feeling that the Brits like to hate on their government as much as American's do.
We wrapped up the day with evensong in St. Paul's Cathedral, which was by far my favorite part of the day. Stay tuned for a post in the near future for more details on Cathederals. After St. Paul, we grabbed some dinner at a bar which is actually a funny story. Here's the thing about London, and really England in general. England is small. It's roughly the size of Texas, but with the population of 50 million. That is roughly twice that of Texas. Therefor London doesn't have a whole lot of room. This has been a cultural adjustment that I've had to make, because in Abilene, Texas, there's always room. Except for a few exceptions, you can always find a seat in a restaurant. But in London, well, the space is small, and the crowd is huge. Every place we went to was packed to the brim, and it was only 7 oclock. So we find this bar that has a lot of empty tables, but they are all reserved. Dejected and hungry, our moody troupe troops out. I however ask the bouncer outside if he knows of any restaurants nearby that can hold all 8 of us. He smiles and says, "Let me see what I can do." He then preceded to go to a table and kick a couple out, telling them that we had a reservation. It was priceless. If I wasn't so hungry, I might have felt bad.
I almost forgot! We also went to Buckingham Palace. Besides sounding like an awful swear word, it is better known as the not so humble abode of the Queen. Or one of the places she calls home. Apparently she has lots of houses. And it would behoove you to know that her last name is not Buckingham, though I'm still skeptical about that. The guards were less than exciting...Yes they stood quite erect and never cracked a smile, but honestly I kind of pitied them. I'd go crazy just standing there.
Only a few days from this London adventure, our entire Oxford group went back to London. We went to the British Library, which was awesome! They had all kinds of original manuscripts such as the Canterbury Tales, ancient bible scripts, and the original Magna Carta. They also had this neat little display:
Later we went to a Candlemas service at West Minster Abby, which was again incredible. Lastly we went to a Premier League Soccer (Football) game, featuring NewCastle and Fulham. I'm not a huge soccer fan, but I had a blast standing with the drunk NewCastle fans, cheering and learning all of their chants.
Before the game:
A lot has happened! I must never fall this far behind again. This weekend Amara, Caleb, Bailey, and I are going to Old York, which I'm fairly certain William Wallace sacked, though it's never wise to count on Hollywood history. In a couple of weeks, a huge group of us is taking a bus to Paris. Yes I said bus, and yes I understand that there's a body of water between the UK and France. In a month or so, we're going to Venice, Rome, and Athens for Spring Break. A couple weeks after that our Oxford is going to Ireland for a week, and a couple of weeks after that a few of us are going to Spain and Moracco for a long weekend! Whew! That's alot of traveling.
Goodness we covered a lot of ground. I work too hard for y'all. This wasn't a typical insightful or funny blog, but I just had so much to catch all of you up on! More posts soon-- I promise. Also, prepare yourself for another Stanky Leg in the very near future.
It would be hard to compress the past few days into one or two words. Oxford is both breathtaking yet quietly casual; technologically advanced yet ancient and medieval; peaceful yet bustling with traffic. 'Collision' would be an appropriate term for Oxford; old customs and architecture slamming into neon lights and eco-friendly cars. It's a place unlike any I've ever seen. Growing up I heard (and tried myself) all the feaux-british accents Americans attempt, I heard about pub-life, I read British literature and saw pictures of grayed men walking with cane, newspaper, and pipe in hand. But here I am! Right in the middle of it all. Funny enough, most of these images are true. The accents are fun to listen to, and even more fun to impersonate, though admittedly quiet enough so as not to be heard. Pub life is awesome and the food is delicious, despite all the rumors saying how bland the food is. And the architecture... Simply stunning. Nothing in America that I have seen compares to the pain-staking detail that sculpt the stone buildings here. Oxford is like a very old tree in that it belongs in these modern times, but also has a vast history to tell to anyone who will listen.
My experience has been wonderful for the most part so far. Granted, I did get my butt kicked by the exchange rate, but that was to be expected. Still, $320 for 200 Pounds is outrageous, and makes me wish that I was a British student studying in America.I survived the plane ride, which was a blessing from God. If you don't know, I'm not a huge fan of flying. 9 hours in a plane put my fears to the limits, but other than a few bumps here and there, it was a relatively smooth flight.
The house that we're staying at is pretty nice. It's over a hundred years old, and one can feel the memories that are held here. I'm sharing a room with Hutton on the third floor. We have a kitchen up here! I have even done a little bit of cooking myself. Walking is a part of everyday life here. I probably walk 5-10 miles a day easily. It's definitely slower than what I'm used to, and sometimes I wish I could fire my truck up and drive to my destination. This persists until I realize that I would have to drive on the left side of the road, and all of the sudden I'm quite content with walking. Plus it's a great way to get exercise, and it's built in to everyday life so you don't have to make extra time for it.
Pubs are my favorite. The atmosphere is a very social and happy one. I learned a quick lesson in the Jericho Tavern during my first pub outing. You see, here in America, we are used to waiters and waitresses always taking our orders at sit-down restaurants. This system doesn't fly in the UK. My posse and I sat down for probably five minutes before one of us had the bright idea of maybe going up to the bar and ordering ourselves. First time trying to not look like a stupid American = Fail. But it all worked out. I got a beef ruddings & Ale pie, which was stupendous. It's actually like a pie! Who would have guessed. Since Dr. Kehl instructed us to not partake in any alcohol consumption, the ACU rule books states that any alcohol consumption on a school sponsored event is strictly prohibited, and since I'm a model student and citizen who would never break any rules, I can tell you that I most certainly did NOT get a pint of Worthington White Shield, so I can't vouch that it was AMAZING or express how legit it was to be able to order a beer in a pub in Oxford. Interpret that how you will.
I haven't seen too many sites yet. I did go into the natural history museum which was pretty cool. There were dinosaurs and do-do birds and my personal favorite: shrunken heads. I find shrunken heads extremely intriguing. I guess it's a little creepy, but I would love to have one. If you have a fresh corpse, let me know, I looked up the instructions on how to shrink a head.
More blogs will follow soon! I'll try to get some more sweet footage.
I leave Abilene in 20 hours. It hasn't set in yet. I decided to go on this trip in January of my Senior year of high school two years ago. It's always seemed so far off, like a dream; so real and yet so unbelievable. For those who don't know, I have quite an experience ahead of me. I'll start off in Oxford, England where I'll take part in the study abroad program. This ends early May, but that's only the beginning of my adventure. After Oxford, I will have three whole weeks of freedom in Europe where I'm going to be practically on my own. After that I'm going to do a month long Summer session in Leipzig, Germany, finally returning early July. Six months. Six whole months away from Abilene, Texas, my home for the past twelve and a half years. Apart from a couple of cruises, this will be my first time to leave the states. Needless to say, I am extremely excited. While Abilene is my favorite place in the world (seriously), I'm banking on Europe to change my life. Not in a cheesy way; I don't plan on becoming a different person or growing up or anything silly like that, but more in a... growing my wings kind of way. I'm in a kind of stagnant place in my life right now. I don't really feel like I'm going anywhere right now with my spiritual life, future career, and even my relationship seems to be foggy. I feel like I have an egg inside me. Not the kind of fallopian tube egg, but an egg that is incubating my potential; a potential that is struggling to crack its shell. Maybe some of you can relate to this feeling. For a while I've been wondering why this is, and I have to admit that it's been lurking in the back of my mind. This is a unique feeling for me. One of my personal 'catch phrases,' if you will, is: Stress is overrated. I rarely feel stress. I don't believe in it. Besides the occasional lightning bolt that passes through me at four in the morning as I'm typing with a flurry to finish a paper that I put off till the last moment, I just don't feel stressed. But this murky water that I've been treading in has definitely created a phase of weirdness for me. You probably haven't noticed; I'm still as happy-go-lucky as I've always been, and honestly I understand that I'm okay. However I hope that these few months of fresh air will help me better grasp who God is, what the hell love is, and the man that I need to become in a few years--concepts that I've severely underestimated.
But enough of this melodramatic crap. You came here to be entertained!
So for today's blog, I wanted to focus on *drum roll* ADVENTURE! I'm going on an adventure! Ahoy! I'm going to effing Europe, the land of Universities I'm not smart enough to attend, the land of hairy women, the land of painted and sculpted genitalia, the land of genocide. This is going to be better than Christmikah with the Cohen family. I'm excited about Oxford and Leipzig, BUT what I'm really looking forward to is my three weeks on my own. With a four country, ten days in two months rail pass, I'm just gonna' go. I'll hop a plain to Paris and take a train to Leipzig where I'm going to drop off my luggage. Then I'm going to pack a few changes of clothes, necessary toiletries, my lappy, and a couple of books, and then I'm gonna' go! I'm mainly going to tour France. My first stop will be Noirt where I'll be staying at Laza's bro's place. After a few days there I'm gonna head down to Marseille for a week. I'm pumped to see Marseille. First off, it's on the southern coast of France which translates into beaches and probably some nude tanning. For those of you who haven't read or seen the Count of Monte Christo (shame on you), Marseille is the home of Edmund Dantes. I'm hoping to board up with a Church of Christ that I found online there in order to cut down on hostel prices. Next up is Nice, where Laza shows his value again by contacting a friend of his who lives there who has graciously offered his home to me for a few nights. I'll then take a long-A train to Naples, Italy, where I'm pretty sure pizza was invented. On the way back to Leipzig I'm going to make a pit stop in Interlaken, Switzerland for a couple of days before I finally set out for Germany. Take a moment to catch your breath. I find myself giggling at this journey, not for hilarity, but at the fact that a million things can and probably will go wrong. Missed trains, shady hostels, foreign languages... there's no way on earth this plan won't have several hitches in it. But you know, to me that's what makes this so exciting. I could end up lost in some alley in Italy, robbed blind. Or I may end up in the Chateau D'if (seriously, get up and go buy the Count of Monte Christo), where I'll have to tunnel out of my cell! I'm not even taking a cell phone. Forget safety. I've had enough of the safeness of my quiet home town. I'm welcoming a little danger in my life. Which takes us back to our mysterious pal Adventure. We don't have enough adventure in our lives. At least I don't. I can't help but wonder if we are missing an important aspect that God weaved into our being. This is why we enjoy, or maybe even crave, epic swashbuckling fantastic stories. All of our favorite tales share a common denominator: adventure. Maximus, Frodo, Robin Hood, Edmund Dantes, V, Captain Jack Sparrow, Woody, and even our favorite heroes of the Bible lived adventure. All of these people started off similar to you and me too, living in their Shire. But we all have a little Took running through our veins. Living in a modern society is great and we are all blessed beyond our knowledge, but at the same time these blessings have come with a crippling price: complacency. I wonder why it's so hard for me to understand what it means to follow Jesus, and I can't help but reason that it's because I don't have to fight for Him. Christianity was spoon-fed to me choo-choo train style since I was a baby. I don't feel that motivated to find my career because all I have to do is make As and Bs in college, and then most likely a nice comfortable job will land itself in my lap. If your skeptical, ponder the fact that we don't even have to make our own food! Sure you can hunt your own meet, but you don't have too. Perini's can grill me up a fat juicy New York strip anytime I want it. Can't you see the dilemma here? Life's easy for us scholars. For me, a little too easy. I can't wait to have my own adventure; to sail the seven seas and defend the walls of Troy; to rely on God and my God-given abilities in order to break through my eggshell.
But my dear friends and family, how I will miss you. I'm playing Ocarina of Time with my dad and sister, an Ashlock tradition, and I'm going to sorely miss saving the princess with yall. Britain's food just isn't going to match up to Moma's home cookin'. To The Crew, yall are awesome. Who I am today has been shaped by our insanely goofy times together. Trav, I expect Drew to be locked in a sarcophagus when yall go to Egypt. Fleet, I fully expect you to have some brand new rude material for me when I get back. Keith, may your boots be forever sticky. KY, you better have a smokin' hot Brazilian wife when I come home, or so help me. Chad, you've become one of my best buds, and I sincerely hope you have an awesome semester. Jake Jake, Nik, Bart, Landon, I'm counting on yall to make sure 2D stays fly in my absence. And Link, you have some serious shoes to fill. Shoulder this responsibility with pride! Austin loves waking up to 'Love Like Woe' every morning. Korey and Mike, go easy on the ladies. Seth, I expect you to become fluent in Greek, Hebrew, and Latin. And to the girls, I'm going to miss yall as well! I can't believe I'm gonna' miss Brynn's career igniting roll this Spring! And I'm excited that Ebibb and Clair and maybe Beth are going to join me in Leipzig.
But weep not! I'll be back. I'm going to keep yall up to date while I'm away. 'I Thought About a Burning Fire' is going to enter into the world of video blogging. If that doesn't cause you to faint with anticipation, then you'll faint when it happens.
If one more person gets engaged I swear I'm gonna' go nucks. Not really. But seriously, you have to admit that it's crazy how many people are getting engaged/married. I'm not a destroyer of love or anything. I guess honestly it blows my mind. I don't understand why someone my age would want to get married right now. Personally, I have several experiences ahead of me that I am psyched about of which I cannot begin to imagine giving up for a life of imprisonment (ok fine, marriage isn't prison). Umm hello! Next year is Junior year which means that ACU is gonna let me grow up a little bit and own my very own piece of real estate. Not only that, but I get to share it with four of my favorite people in the world. If you know me and my group of friends, then you should know that good times will go down every day at this house. There's only one time in your entire life that you get to live with four of your best friends in a house with no authority, except your landlord, to govern you by. Maybe I'm nuts, but getting married over that seems whack-O. And who on Earth wants to shoulder all that responsibility? Don't get me wrong, I wish to shoulder said responsibility someday, but definitely not now. I am looking forward to another year or two of jack-nobbing around without a care in the world.
I really think people take college for granted. For one, compared to the entire world, us college scholars are pretty rare. Most people don't have the option, and instead have to enter the work force immediately after highschool (an again most people don't even have access to formal education). And then I see people rushing off and gettin' hitched or taking 20 hours a semester to finish early (hmm now who could this be? :)) and I'm left scratching my head. College is a unique time. Not only does college give one an unparalleled advantage in the real world, but more importantly, in my opinion, it is the special opportunity when one can enjoy the benefits of being an adult, while still being able to be a kid. Sure there's a lot of responsibility with grades and finances, but you can't deny that there's a lot of room for silly behavior. But once you get married or start you career, a lot of those freedoms are gone forever. Many other benefits are gained, but to me those benefits can wait a couple years. I mean, they'll still be there. My life's ambition isn't going to vanish if I wait a couple of years longer, but the college life is gone forever when it's done.
I'm really not bitter, and I'm not bashing all the happily married/engaged couples, several of whom are my good friends. I'm happy for them and wish them the best, it's just that, several events that have hit rather close to home have kind of jolted me a little when it comes to love. In the past two years I've seen two ministers, and another man who I highly respected leave their families for other women. I guess the scariest thing is that these were all God-fearing men like myself. It's all to easy to judge men who cheat on their families, but in reality all three of these men are probably a lot like you and me. The point is, nobody is immune to the sins of the world, especially us men, and when one doesn't guard against these dangers, shit like the sexy secretary happens. Sorry for the language mom. I feel like I'm justified in my fears. With more and more people choosing cohabitation over marriage, and half of those who do marry getting divorced, and with society's skewed projection of love, I think I have a valid point. I know it's like the "in" thing to do at ACU, but I think I'm gonna enjoy my current life for a little bit longer, 'cause hey, when it's gone...
Let's take a moment right now to stop reading and relax. Can you feel it? Maybe not. I can though. I can feel the fresh air blowing through. It's great to be back writing regular blogs instead of roasts. Don't get me wrong, I loved slandering (or is it libeling?) everyone of you, but to be perfectly honest those twelve roasts wore me out. I've been looking forward to a regular blog for about two weeks now and it feels good to back in the stirrups again.
Believe it or not I have been doing other things besides roasting. Over this Christmas break I began watching a new TV series called Dexter. Isaac Newman was watching Dexter last year and I've always wanted to start it, and now I finally had the opportunity thanks to a free month of Netflix. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the series Dexter, let me fill you in. Dexter is a show that centers around a protagonist (Dexter, obviously) who is a blood spatter analyst for Miami Metro Homicide. Dexter is also a serial killer. The irony of a forensic specialist catching serial killers by day and then conducting his own killing at night is genius enough to deserve a television series, but it's the moral jousting match that Dexter creates that kept me glued till the sun rose every morning. Dexter isn't your run-of-the-mill mass murderer that kills out of anger, jealousy, lack of money, a drug addiction, or anything else. Dexter kills because, well, he has too. As a young child he witnessed the brutal murder of his mother, and sat in her 2-inch-deep puddle of blood for two days before being rescued by his soon-to-be adopted father, Harry. Needless to say, this horrible event caused some serious psychological trauma, causing Dexter to become empty and emotionless inside, and a voice inside of him that urges him to kill, which Dexter names as his 'Dark Passenger.' After a kill, the voice goes away. For a little bit. Dex's father discovers his Dark Passenger at an early age, but does something that most fathers probably wouldn't do. Instead of sending him to psychologists or trying some extreme unorthodox method of curing him or any other treatment that wouldn't work, Harry works with Dexter and helps channel his urges by taking him hunting pheasant and deer. At a certain point, Harry realizes that Dexter's urges will only grow stronger and expand to bigger and more exciting kills, such as humans.
This is where the jousting match begins. According to Harry's ideals, there are people in this world that deserve to die. There are certain people whose deaths would make this world a better place. People who do horrible things, like murder a mother in front of her child. Harry then develops his code, that Dexter follows into his adult life as a vigilante serial killer that targets the wicked.
Now if you're a proper Christian, your whistle should be blowing and your flag should be flying through the air and you should be screaming, "Penalty on Dexter, unnecessary judgment, 15-yard penalty!" I would agree with you. My faith is incomplete and growing, and my theology is still in its infancy, but if I had to put a label on my cornerstone it would most likely read: "The grace of God is infinite and no one is beyond redemption." But a guy like Dexter should make you think, as is the purpose of the show. On the one hand, you have a guy playing God by deciding who deserves to die and who deserves to live, a judgment that we Christians reserve for God. But on the other hand, you have a guy who absolutely has to kill. When he witnessed his mother's murder, his Dark Passenger was written into his DNA. So if he has to kill, wouldn't it be best to snuff out humanities worst? It's a tough call. As you watch Dexter, you can't help but pull for the guy, but if your a Christian shouldn't that concern you? I don't know. I can't say that I would support such actions, but I also can't deny that because of Dexter's actions, the world really is a better place. Every serial rapist he kills saves who knows how many women from that terrible fate. Every murderer that is killed saves another family from being shattered apart.
But nobody is beyond redemption. If we truly believe this, then we believe that even people who rape and murder little children are just as deserving as we are when it come's to God's grace. And if you are human, this should shake you a little bit. As a Christian can we justify a murder if it saves a woman from being raped? Sometimes I wonder what Jesus would do if he was walking down an alley late at night and happened upon a rape. What would his actions be? Would he be a Dexter and save the woman at all costs? Could God actually work through a psychopath like Dexter in the real world by saving His children from unspeakable evil?
Welcome to the highly anticipated Christmas Edition Roast. If you don't already know, starting today, all the way up until Christmas, one extremely lucky individual will get their chestnuts roasted like never before. This has been predicted as the biggest event of the year by The E! News and Spike TV. If you consider yourself to be fragile, then stop reading here, because it's gonna get brutal. Brutally beautiful. Feelings will be hurt. Backs will be stabbed. Affairs will be exposed. Vendettas will be exacted. Ok... maybe it's not that extreme. But seriously, take your beating, and laugh at everyone else's. I love everyone of you. Mostly. Sit back and relax: It's gonna be a great 12 days.
(And the winner of the 'Most-UnCowboy-Cowboy' award goes to....... SETH CARROLL!!!)
On The First Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: Kelcie Drawing Nudies
Kelcie Broom, Friend, Youth Intern, ex-bible major, has recently brought to light her long-hidden obsession: nude men. Since the age of 14, Kelcie has longed to see a naked man. She didn't know where this compulsion came from, but she knew it was there. A burden on her not-so-innocent soul, her desire burned strongly, threatening to sizzle right through her skin. She knew she had to see it, but she didn't know how. "It might sound easy, but I had my career, my family, and my reputation to think about. How was I supposed to minister to kids in a youth group if they knew I had an obsession with naked men?" A fair question I added. Just when Kelcie thought that she would burst from all of her penned up emotion, her opportunity came. It was too perfect. All she had to do was switch her major from Jesus to Art. Nearing the end of the 2010 semester, an extra-credit opportunity arose for one of her art classes. All she had to do was sketch a naked man using a live man as a model. She breathed a sigh of relief. Not only could she see her first naked man, but she could use the cover of "Extra Credit" to hide her true purpose.
"My life's dream finally came through. I had waited five whole years for this moment." Although admitting that she was a little bit upset that her secret came out, she said that she could only blame herself: "When you mix up the words 'pencil' and 'penis' over fifty times in front of your roommate, it's dang near impossible to keep a lid on the cookie jar," Broom said with a giggle and a shake of her head. She also went on to say that she was kind of relieved to have this skeleton out of the closet, and that she was receiving unbelievable support from her friends. Said Bailey, "It's definitely a little creepy having your roommate spontaneously shout "PENIS!" in her sleep, but I love the girl, and can only continue to wish her the best."
Instead of hiding from her obsession, Kelcie has now embraced it, and is currently writing and choreographing a musical that combines nude men and her other favorite thing in the world: Moonies. The musical is rumored to star Keith Carroll, and is due out next fall.
On the Second Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: The Comeback Kid who was Never Called the Comeback Kid
If there was an award for being able to make someone feel terrible about asking them for a favor, the gold trophy would definitely go to Mr. Kyle Yarbrough. Kyle possesses an incredible talent for being the most popular person at ACU, the best Christian at ACU, and the biggest jerk at ACU all at the same time. You may think Kyle is the nicest guy in the world. In fact sometimes even I am fooled by Kyle. But the truth is, Kyle only cares about himself. Heres a prime example:
Me: "Hey man, you want to go to go get something to eat?"
KY: "I mean... well I just got back from the Bean, but... ehh I guess I can go with you."
Wow. Nobody else could make me feel that bad for requesting companionship. You'd have think I asked him take the fall for some heinous crime. He'll do whatever you want, as long as you feel awful for asking. He uses this method in reverse to. Next time he asks you to do anything, decline and see his reaction. You would have thought you dated his sister (who will be in college next year, and is currently single).
Kyle also has this habit of feaux humbleness that is just plain insulting. Kyle Y could get any girl he wanted, but insists of being a downer about his game. "I don't have any game..." says Kyle as he walks away with two gorgeous females. "Girls don't like me..." says Kyle as a troupe of siggies scream his name during an intramural volleyball game. I know he's full of crap because he has a cushiony chair at his house called the 'makeout' chair.
Kyle's friends have about had it. Says Barton Mahaffey, ex-roommate of Kyle, "I remember last year, I was facing charges for dating a middle-school girl, and when I went to Kyle for advice, all he said was, 'It's your life man.'"
It's your life man. That about sums it up, even though Kyle has received help from all of his friends at various times when he was in need. But maybe the worst part of all is that mischievous little smile that says, "I know something you don't know." I know everyone knows what I'm talking about. Kyle will here a big juicy secret, and just flaunt it in front of you, and chances are you'll never find out. He'll just laugh and do some sort of ridiculous made-up dance.
But in all honesty, even though you always feel guilty around him, you can never get straightforward advice from him, and he's just plain better looking than you, KY's a great friend.
On the Third Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: A Woman Who Will Win at All Costs
There are two types of people in this world. The first type enjoy fun, friendly activities such as board games, capture the flag, and intramural sports, caring little to whether they win or lose as long as they had fun. And then there's the second type that will go to extraordinary measures to win said fun activities, and consider the activity a complete loss if victory is not obtained.
And then there is Emily Bibb who will go as far as to mutilate any human being who dares step between her and sweet, sweet, chocolate-covered victory. Emily is a rare bird indeed. Not just anybody would toss a Cranium board in the air, creating Chernobyl-esque destruction on the floor, right when the opponent was about to pull a come-from-behind victory. Bibb defends herself adamantly, which really is no surprise given her competitive nature. When asked why silly things like Cranium mattered so much to her, she responded, "The game? The game is nothing. But what it symbolizes is everything. In this life there are winners and losers, and I'm a winner, simple as that. If I didn't do everything in my power to win, then I would burying my talents in the field."
A little taken aback, I inquired to whether her extreme measures were worth the collateral damage she had amounted over the years against her opponents, many of whom are her close friends. She replied, "Friends and enemies are basically one in the same: Pawns in the way of my checkmate. Pawns in desperate need of elimination."
Bibb has racked up quite a bit of carnage over the years, ranging from punching refs, cursing opponents, throwing bricks through windows, and a murder, though the latter has never been proven.
To delve even deeper into the mind of Emily, I consulted one of her closest friends and roommate Kelsie Real. When I approached her, I could tell that she knew what I was here for. A look of horror flashed over her eyes, and for a brief moment, I was sure that she was about to make a break for it. But she got a hold of herself, and with a shaky voice agreed to an interview.
I asked her to describe life with Miss Emily Bibb. She replied, "You have no idea what it's like. Everything is a competition. She's sets the AC, decorated the room her way, plays her music... the list goes on and on!"
I asked her if she had ever beaten Emily at anything, and Kelsie's lips quivered.
"Well," she began, "One time I got in the shower before she did and- and-..." She paused to wipe a tear from her eye. "And she came in and threw me out in the hall butt naked, and it was visitation night!"
Truly remarkable. When she's not dominating every event possible, or dating bodybuilders with roid-rage who chew Copenhagen like it's Juicy Fruit, Emily can be found painting peacefully or reading a book, showing that she does value more than victory. Maybe there is hope in the crazy world of Emily.
On the Fourth Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: Southern Hospitality
I almost feel bad typing this one. Almost. You see, it's really just to easy. All I have to say is that Landon Cook is from Throckmorton, Texas, and he's already pretty much roasted. But since you all paid good money for this show, I guess I can expound if I absolutely have too. Where to begin?
Landon showed up at ACU on horseback right around a year and a half ago. It took him a little while to get used to Abilene. Back where he's from it only takes 10 steps in any direction to leave town. ACU itself seemed like a metropolitan area. But with that fierce Texan burning inside him, he vowed to not let anything deter him in wrangling this ragtag town into his lasso of southern comfort. After a shot of whiskey and a "Giddeup!" he was off. Needless to say it wasn't just Landon who experienced a bit of a culture shock. Josh Marshall recalls vividly some of his first encounters with the man from T-Rock. "I've never met anyone like him. He seems to think that all he has to do is give a girl his special look and she'll just fall entranced under his spell." Apparently Landon get's reality and chat roulette confused every now and then. Josh also commented on Landon's special 'beautification' ritual every morning that enlisted too many processes for one roast, but blow-drying his carefully conditioned hair was one of them.
"Once the Ladies run their hands through mah hair, that's when I gottem," said Landon for the fifth time, since I couldn't understand his thick accent.
When Landon's not reliving the glory days of 6-man football (is that even a sport?) or puttin his southern charm on the ladies, you can usually find him in Pod 2D. Since he never sleeps, you can find him in there at any hour of the night. Landon has this mixed notion that since in Throckmorton anyone can stay at anyones house, regardless of relation, and get a nice home-cooked meal of chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, hot buttery rolls, and a tall glass of ice cold sweet tea, every other city must operate the same way. Proof of this notion was evident by his moving-in to our living room.
I asked Landon once if he had any West Texas oil money, and he said that his family wasn't rich at all. He then preceded to remotely start his huge 4-door pickup truck from across the campus. I don't even want to know what his definition of rich is. But I can't be too hard on the guy. He does have that small-town southern man charm about him. But to all the ladies, don't waste your time. Landon's only into girls fresh out of failed marriages. But maybe if you cook him some of that fried chicken maybe, just maybe, he'll warm up to you.
On the Fifth Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: The Best Christmas EEEEVVVVEEERRR
The Christmas season is upon us, and with the holidays comes celebration. Yes, many of you readers will be singing jolly tunes, cozying up next to a merry fire while grandpa tells stories, popping champagne bottles at midnight on Christmas Eve. But no matter how joyous your celebration might be, it will in no way compare to the party Morgan Sconiers will be throwing. Morgan is what you might call a 'party animal', the type of person that influences movies like Animal House and American Pie. Morgan typically keeps a pretty tight lid on her party life, but after a Mike's Lemonade she was spilling all of her secrets.
"Yah partying is my life. It's my reputation. It's who I am," said Morgan. When asked how she felt about being known as the 'party girl' she replied calmly, "I kind of like that title. I want evvverrryyyoneee to know what I'm all about." Interesting.
For the past 14 months or so, the soon-to-be Mrs. Carroll has been dating the deranged ginger Keith Carroll. Morgan hinted at the possibility of a ring for Christmas.
"Well were pretty much in love, so why wait? It's always been my dream to get married early."
When I asked Keith about the possibilities of this rumor he replied, "Ahbigaduhbuh My bwootts are steeky!" I took that as a yes. The man needs to get married and reproducing as soon as possible to preserve the ginger nation.
Morgan is planning the party of the century in honor of her near engagement, but a warning to all potential guests: If your planning on bringing snacks, better just stick to chicken nuggets and macaroni cheese. Morgan is less commonly know to be pickier than a spoiled 3-year old from a rich family. I brought spaghetti to her house one time and "I haaaatttteee that" was all the thanks i received.
Folks, clear your schedules. This holiday season is shaping up to be the best evvveerrrr.
On the Sixth Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: Wiessy Babyyyy
When it comes to fratting like a fratstar, the first name that pops into everyone's heads is Ben Wiese. Fratting since the young age of 5, Ben has been flying the I-Am-Better-Than-You flag high and proud. His biggest pet peeve is organizations that just let anyone in. There's no pride in that.
When Ben didn't pledge this fall, I immediately became suspicious. This didn't fit his profile at all. How could the Natty-pounding champ of the world not pledge?! I knew I had to get to the bottom of this mystery. Turns out that he turned down all of his bids because all of the clubs on ACU's campus were just too nice. Instead he chose to stick with his unofficial social group formally known as TXA. His reasons were straightforward, harsh, and just plain fratastic.
He told me: "You see, clubs like Galaxy and Sub-T and the rest only shut out people who don't fit the bill personality wise. You know, you have to be a tool to be a moonie, a drunk cowboy to be a subber, and homosexual to be a gamma. But those are only skin-deep qualifications. At the end of the day, too many people are still getting in, and its just not special. Now take TXA. We don't care about outward personality, but what's inside a person. If you don't make the spiritual cut, then too bad for you. Much, much more selective and cruel, which is how I like it," he finished with a sly grin.
But when Ben isn't posting TFMs or hazing geeds, he can be found making strange noises in Jake Jake Jacobson's room. No one really knows what goes on in that room, but rumor has it that a complicated love triangle exists inside that room between Cole Anthony, Jake, and Ben. It all started on the Dry Bones internship that they all partook of this past summer. Cole and Jake both want Ben, but Ben keeps playing both sides, leading those poor boys on. But seriously keep that on the down-low-- Macy is unaware of this triangle.
When Ben is not being as obnoxiously loud as humanly possible, he can be found simulating some NBA 2k11 or whatever its called and sippin on a Brewski--the perfect day. Happy hazing my friend.
On the Seventh Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: A Lemur In a Coconut Tree
I had to fly thousands of miles and trek through a tropical forest to find Laza Razafimanjato for this roast. Six years ago, Laza moved from the forests of Madagascar to Abilene, Texas to attend ACU. If you want to know about Madagascar, then watch the movie Madagascar. According to Laza it is a perfect representation of what his home country is like: trees and lemurs, and yes penguins. Anyways, I met Laza my freshman year of college at ACU. Laza was the AD of Mabee Hall, and he always followed the rules and enforced the rules on Mabee’s residents. He ran a pretty tight shift. I’ve never seen anyone hold as much respect as Laza. He didn’t have to tell you twice to stop an activity. That’s how much he was revered. It must have been his beard. I remember one time a group of guys was playing a crazy game involving tennis balls and I think golf clubs, and when Laza asked them to stop, they immediately did. It’s a good thing too, because if they had just ignored Laza then they might have hit the fire alarm in freezing cold weather and forced all of Mabee outside into the cold.
Laza is also known as an excellent driver. He most certainly did NOT have to take his driver license test three times, and he most certainly did NOT total his car in Arkansas. He was always so great about picking myself and Austin Fleet up so we could save our gas. Never once this summer did Laza call me begging for a ride because he was stuck at home. Laza loves to dance. Chances are Laza loves to dance with you, even if you aren’t interested in dancing with him. When puts his all-purpose pin-stripe thigh-high shorts on, anything could happen. You might go swimming, you might play volleyball, you might go to a restaurant, or it could be movie time. Laza wore those pin-striped shorts every single day this summer. It was kind of like his trademark.
There’s many interesting things about Laza. For one, Laza’s native language is French and Malagasy, and while his English is really good, it’s still not great. He does this thing when your having a conversation with him where he’ll get going on a story and then he’ll stop saying words because he forgot the translations, but he’ll keep moving hands until his story is over and then he’ll look at you like you were supposed to interpret his random hand movements. Sorry Laz, I don’t speak Malagasy sign-language. Laza also can’t wait until he’s a grandpa so he can partake in the Malagasy tradition of eating the foreskins of all his grandkids with a banana. Animals also seem to dislike him. Lark’s dog Bella took a dump in his house one night, Travis’s dog tried to bit him, and recently Henrietta, Laza’s pet hen, committed suicide and left a note detailing her hatred towards laza. Tragic.
But through and through you gotta love Laza. He’s going to come visit soon. Actually he’s not. He’s been saying that for 6 months now and we’ve seen no trace of him. But you never know!
On the Eight Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: The Birds and the Bees
This roast is going to be a little bit special. Instead of one person roasting on a spit, two people are going to receive their well-earned dues at one time. Think of it as a buy one get one free deal.
Since Seth Bouchelle and Carey Cox seem to be glued together at all times, it only seemed appropriate that they be roasted together. It be a pity to separate them even on this blog. This dynamic duo began dating roughly ten months ago, and have spent a total of ten minutes of solitude. Normally this would seem outrageous, but for a couple who is this perfect, anything less would be insulting. Their tightly-knit group of friends seem to be on the same page too.
Said Bailey Blackburn, “I just love it when they come over to my house for a casual hangout. The way Carey crawls into Seth’s shirt and tousles his hair during every movie our group watches is a symbol of joy to my heart..”
Said Travis Green, “I don’t even want to bother looking for a woman, because there’s no way it will compare to what they have.”
Said Keith Carroll, “My bwoots are steeky!”
But a question has risen amidst this seemingly flawless relationship. Is it as perfect as it seems, or are there cracks on its diamond surface?
A recent conversation with Carey revealed that perhaps not all is well. I was walking down the sidewalk on a recent Monday when I saw Carey looking quite disheveled. Being the thoughtful, caring friend that I am, I asked her if everything was ok, and she said no. “Oh Nathan,” she began tearfully, “It’s about church yesterday. You see, during service Seth didn’t rub my leg the entire span of the message, and I just couldn’t connect with God without his hand caressing my inner thigh and intertwining with my hand. I think something may be up.”
Obviously I was startled by this revelation. I decided to do a thorough follow up. The next opportunity I had, I questioned Seth to see if there was reason for this madness. Seth came into my room the next day wearing his turquoise alpaca fur shirt (or whatever that is) and a bandana over his tangled blonde hair. Obviously a horrible attempt to look like a neo-manstic Christian who doesn’t need the world, I jokingly said that Halloween was two months ago. I quickly realized that he was serious, and I dropped the matter. I asked him why the uncaressed thigh, and I could tell I had struck gold.
“Well Nate, there’s someone else. There’s always been someone else. I may be courting Carey, but my heart belongs to Randy Harris. The problem is, Randy’s a celibate, so I have no chance with him, and lately it’s been hitting me harder than usual. I’d do anything for him!”
I pondered this and asked, “Would you hold a metal pipe for a specified period of time and not let it hit the ground if Randy told you to?”
“I’d smack the first person who tried to touch it in the face with it if he tried to stop me,” he responded proudly.”
˘˘True Story Interesting. Well I wished Seth good luck, and now only time will tell if ACU’s favorite couple can survive the latest hardship that has floated to the surface.
On the Ninth Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: Abrynnaline Defying Gravity
Turn up your volume and press play to fully enjoy the following roast. Listen and read.
Brynn smith, AKA Abrynnaline, Brynndi Doobi Doo, Fender Brynnder, or really whatever you want to call her lives life like a musical. I don't know if I've ever had a conversation with Brynn without her bursting into a song. She's like Krunk off of Emperor's New Groove humming her own theme music. I had the opportunity to watch her perform in a musical this past summer, and it was quite the show. I guess she thinks she's pretty hot stuff by the way she was shaking 'All That Jazz' on the stage in her voluptuous outfit. Her risque rolls didn't end their as she went on to perform as Rose in the musical 'Titanic' where, yes, she posed topless to allow Jack to paint her (sounds like the kind of thing Broom is in to), and she will be performing along side Keith as lead actress in Kelcie's upcoming musical about naked moonies. She's even dyed her hair red so as to match Keith. You always know when Brynn arrives at the scene. Her presence is like a mixture of Red Bull and heroine, juicing the atmosphere into almost unbearable levels of hyperactivity. When asked why she seems to always be so animated she replied, "I just loooovveee ttoooooooo siiinngggggggggggggggg," finishing on a high G with a twenty second vibrato. Though Brynn's life seems picture-perfect, all is not well upstairs if you know what I mean. Brynn has recently come forth admitting that she is receiving intensive rehab for her addiction to watching and posting youtube videos. I witnessed this addiction first hand when I went over to her house one afternoon and was forced to endure endless hours of Harry Potter musicals, Hook mashups, and homemade movies on youtube, only escaping by bashing her in the head with a bat as she was serenading people online with her Ukulele. During her intervention, which was aired on live television, her close friends were very supportive. Said Amara, "You make a great Peter Pan, but if I see this video one more time I'm gonna shoot myself." Things are looking bright though, as she has limited her youtube watching to only ten hours a day as opposed to the usual eighteen hours. Therapists are hoping to release her from the support home within the next four months.
On the Tenth Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: Kason's Brother
If there's anybody who has some big shoes to fill, its Kason Hart's little brother. In a couple of years the royal throne for Galaxy will need a new ruler, and it's up to Kason's brother to uphold the family tradition and take the crown. But being Kason's brother isn't as easy as it sounds and the pressure has started to crack Kason's brother. Ever since call night Kason's brother has been trying to make a name for himself. He knows that if the crown is ever going to be his he has to be known by more than just 'Kason's brother.' He went all out during pledging, even taking a couple of leaves out of Ben Wiese's book about fratting hard. Nowadays you'd be hard pressed to catch Korey wearing anything but khakis and sperry's. Korey has set a world record for most consecutive days wearing the same pair of khakis with an impressive one thousand nine hundred and fifty-six days. And to top it off, you can smell his ten-year-old sperry's from a mile off. It might seem that the future crown is all but his, but there's so much more to Kason's rep that Korey has to live up to. Korey has been shooting 5,656 3-pointers everyday in hopes of someday balling as hard as Kason does. Someone's gotta lead the moonies to a championship. I asked him about his strategies to rising to power and he said, "Bro, I'm just gonna keep working on my game." His next 3-pointer clanged off the rim and he shouted a mild profanity at the top of his lungs.
To better prep him for kingdomship, Korey has hired his roommate, Michael "Big Mike" Holeman as his personal trainer. "I've got Kason's brother on a tight program consisting of 5,656 pushups, situps, up-downs, layups, free-throws, and 3-pointers. We follow that up with a 56 minute jog. I've paired his workout with a strict Schlotzskis diet and a 10:00 bedtime." Sounds like he's in good shape.
Korey does have a life outside the family monarchy. He also enjoys video games, especially Call of Duty. He used to play Halo, but apparently that was when he was gay. He told me this rather loudly. But secretly we all know its because he gets owned in Halo.
Well Korey if your reading this then I suggest you get off immediately and get back to work. That crown's not going to set itself on your head.
On the Eleventh Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: The Roast Before Christmas
Twas the roast before Christmas and all through the house; Not a Creature was stirring, not even Macy McArthur! Like a feral cat she pranced and she hissed, Calling out for Ben Wiese, hoping for a kiss. She sat on his lap, and purred with a smile, Began using silly words like a 3-year old child. "I wuv you! I wuv you!" she babbled and cooed. One would think she drank milk from a bottle instead of solid food. She nestled and snuggled and started to giggle, Ben's beard was thick and boy did it tickle! With eyes droopy and almost asleep, Ben shrieked and Macy leapt to her feet. Startled and frightened she scampered away, And hid in her basket hoping for the next day. For tonight was Christmas eve, and tomorrow she hoped, For a new ball of yarn and to be petted and stroked. She had better get her wish, or someone would die, She can turn on a dime and gouge out your eyes. She enjoys wearing the pants and whipping Ben into shape, Don't mess with this Tigress, she'll devour you like a crepe. But boys watch out when your drying off with a towell, She'll sneak in your room with eyes wide as an owl. But tonight this feral cat is drifting lazily to sleep, So Merry Christmas to all and don't make a peep. On the Twelfth Day of Christmas My True Love Gave To Me: Hehehe...
Yes, I know there's been some question about who the final roast would be about. I decided that it was only appropriate to roast my dear girlfriend Amara Childers. Now don't get to excited-- since she's my girlfriend I decided to only write sweet things about her.
Don't worry I'm just kidding.
Amara Amara... Amara has got to be the smartest illiterate person I've ever met. Seriously the girl's a genious. Shes pulling like a 3.95 or something in biology, and let me tell you folks, that's pretty impressive. I've seen some of her test reviews and they make me want to vomit. Yet for all of her brain mass, the most complex piece of literature she's ever read and understood is Jemimah Puddleduck, and even with that she only used cliff notes. Things aren't much different on the road either, whether I'm driving or she is. Everytime I climb into her car I feel like I'm gambling with my life. It's like those stoplights are just there for decoration. When I'm driving, Amara likes to pull her trademark move. She'll take out a bottle of water or some chapstick, and after she's done I'll ask if I can have some. She then proceeds to screw the lid back on and hand it to me as I'm battling through heavy traffic instead of leaving the lid off. If I had a dollar for every time I raised a bottle of water to my mouth and smacked my teeth with the lid...
Amara also has an interesting sense of fashion. You would never know if she was ever heading to a funeral because she dresses like she is at all times. Black shirt, black pants, black toenails are a must wherever she goes. Sometimes she likes to mix it up with a little charcoal action to keep things fresh. She fits right in with the gothic scene.
But I can't complain too much. Things are going great between us right now. She'll probably keep me around for oh... five or six more months and then she'll probably trade me in for a black boyfriend for the summer. It's kind of a pattern she likes to keep. I'm promise I'm not trying to be racist, it's just how she operates. Don't believe me? Check this out:
Here is the list of all the guys Amara has dated. I told you. She has trouble making up her mind, which is another thing you should know about Amara. I think having a black name is what causes her to go back and forth and back and forth. I should probably propose while I got her for the moment, because who knows who she's gonna date next. Joke... I'm not proposing anytime soon.
Well I think I better stop here. Lord knows I'm in a boatload of trouble after this roast. Umm Keith and Morgan... I might be third-wheeling on that double date we were planning.
But on a lighter note, it's been a joy roasting this holiday season. I know I left some of yall out, but honestly it's because I had nothing on you. If you really want to get roasted or know of anyone who desperately needs their chestnuts roasted, develop some obnoxious habit or give me some dirt on someone and I'll happily do another roast in the Spring. Even though the roasts are done, I'm going to continue blogging and I would encourage you all to follow!
