Tuesday, May 19, 2009

I have 3 Friends...(Part 1)

Good morning America...God has once again graced me with the productivity that only a sleepless night can bring, allowing me the chance to deliver the 3:00am satirical wit that only I can provide.

Before going any further, however, I would like to send a message to all of you who read the Martin Lawrence Blog yesterday. that sh*t was on point right?


For those of you kind enough to send Texts, Facebook messages and voicemails in which you referred to me as your dear friend 'Cole,' I have a different message...F**k you all. LOL. This being said, I am sure that all of you fortunate enough to have friends, (or rich enough to buy them via joining a Fraternity), are aware that for better or worse, we must almost always stand by our friends and their decisions...key word...almost.

In writing this post, I have come to the conclusion that it, like my multi-part Blog series "this is not Ok" is destined to become a re-occurring blogworthy subject, as, to put it nicely, I have a degenerate group of friends (myself included), who are always getting into questionable sh*t. Where this mini-Blog series entitled "I have 3 friends" differs from the "This is not Ok" series, is that it makes reference to specific, real life instances which are so far from being Ok, that they can be labeled inexcusable. Inexcusability aside, these acts often make for hilarious mid morning conversation, as true friends never interrupt the aforementioned nonsense until the line between comedic embarrassment and outright danger become nebulous. Last weekend I was that true friend, and as a result, am able to present you with three short vignettes of unacceptable, raunchy and blatantly criminal behavior. Enjoy.

Showrocka Presents: I Have 3 Friends...Part 1
Setting: Philadelphia Pennsylvania...Alumni Weekend.
Friend # 1:

In an effort to start off as tame as possible, I will first describe a scene which occurred at a local TGI Fridays. Five fraternity brothers (I do not mention names because it is akin to snitching) enter the restaurant buzzed from early morning Yeungling mixed with the twilight hangover from the last night's debauchery. Aside from occasionally loud and off color stories about STD's, midgets and 'Suzie Rottencrotch' disrupting the semi-quiet atmosphere of a family restaurant, everything is relatively normal. Upon being approached by a South Philly Waiter, complete with a hand painted Miskeen Friday's Shirt and Freeway beard, the boys reach for their wallets to produce their I.Ds. While this act in and of itself was ridiculous, as no one was under the age of 24, and were all obviously drunk already, it was the next act which truly put this in the category of unacceptable. In the middle of this, a family restaurant, something falls out of friend # 1's wallet, audibly smacking on the ground. Had friend number one known what it was that had fallen out of the wallet / pocket , he could have quickly picked it up and saved himself the embarrassment. Friend #2 saw exactly what had fallen but declined to comment, as that would not make for much of a story. As friend # 1 reached down to pick it up, he noticed what had fallen...f**k...a condom. Wait, let me rephrase that...a used condom. LMAO. LMAO again. While it appeared to be wrapped in an old wrapper, and there didn't appear to be a semen stain on the floor, it was nevertheless hilariously unacceptable. I'm actually laughing now as I type and recall the waiter's response..."Damn dog, you was supposed to get rid of that last night." Gotta love Philly.


Friend # 2:

As if friend #1's antics in and of them self were not enough to provide a day full of laughter, friend number two must've been in a secret race to outdo him with Dale Ernhardt speed. By the time the gang had left Fridays, played beerpong at their fraternity house and hit a local bar/ dance club, errrrybody was indubitably tipsy. Who am I kidding, everyone was stone drunk. Continuing to keep the party going, the well oiled (no homo) frat boy machine sustained itself with the Heineken petroleum gas need to keep itself going. This seemed to be working quite well until a sprocket or cog got loose from the wheel of Fratboy-dom. As Friends # 1-5 take shots of some godawful well tequila, friend # 2 slithers away to dance with barely legal cuties and possibly get his snake charmed. Funny thing...he returned within five minutes, hit the bathroom and suggested we leave as he had just thrown up on some people in the middle of the dance floor, and miraculously, moonwalked out of the circle without anyone knowing who had blown the whirlwind of chunks now embedded in ponytails, splattering abercrombie tank tops and speckling the laces of expensive Diesel shoes.



This, ironically, is not the first time this has happened. The four friends have seen their weak stomached brethren do this on multiple occasions, yet have still not accepted it as common practice or something permissible even when drunk. Yes, friend #2, I am talking to you. It was not OK to throw up in that guy's face in Vegas, it was not cool to throw up on the dance floor in Philly, It was not cool the various times you have done so in foreign countries. Nevertheless, you always manage to escape and we keep going out with you cause that's what brothers do. Throw up on one of us, however, and you'll be eating that vomit through a tube.

Friend # 3:
Yes, it does get worse. FYI, it is OK to lend your friend money for drugs, but hilariously not OK for him to return with forty dollars worth of crack. LMAO. Yes, I said crack.

While not privy to the transaction or prior convo, it appears that something went entirely wrong during a nonsensical search for Coke or weed, which led to friend #3 'accidentally' ending up with crack. When he realized what had happened he immediately demanded that this man, whom he just met in Mickey D's, refund his money. The man ran down the street...and as anyone from the hood knows...you aint catchin no crackhead. Upon arriving at the car to be picked up by Friends # 1, 2 and 4-6 (an additional was picked up), friend # 3 proceeded to mumble something about coke, however no one was listening. Upon arriving home, the friends were able to decipher the entire story and laugh there collective asses off.


Whereas this would have made a fine ending to an already funny story ,(it would not have been funny had we gotten pulled over and done 5 years in jail), it did not end here. Rather than simply throw away the botched merchandise, as 7 years of college education and a lucrative job will teach you, friend # 3 decides he's going to partake in his find despite not truly knowing what it was. True friends would not have let their drunkard of a friend smoke crack, and in our defense, we didn't. We did, however, let him crush it up and attempt to snort it. LMAO. We know it was wrong, but it was too f***in funny of an opportunity to let pass. Soon everyone, (excluding Friend #3), passed out and upon waking in the morning, everyone was alive. No harm no foul. LMAO.


For those of you who enjoyed these true or fictitious stories, trust me in my saying that there is more to come. As long as we continue to live in our own Peter Pan inspired Frat-Boy Paradise, we never have to grow up and or stop partying like rock stars...Delusions of grandeur are overrated... we prefer to simply believe our own hype and will forever be the Frat Boys we idolized while watching Animal house. Owwwwwwww.



Live, Love, The Party

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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I think Boozay & I may have found remnants of said crack on our coffee table last night...