Ends On Tuesday

In the dorm I lived in last year, we had a saying : "In Koenig, the weekend starts on Thursday, except when it starts on Wednesday"

I'm proud of my freshman floor, so I've taken that saying to heart, even now that old Koenig has been torn down and new Koenig has been filled up with strangers. In Suite 3100, at least, the weekend still starts on Thursday, except when it starts on Wednesday. The best part is, this past weekend didn't end until about 30 minutes ago. My pocket BAC blower says, for the first time since Friday, that I am now legally sober.

Man, I can't wait until tomorrow night.

WILD was pretty much the stupidest thing I've ever seen. I don't mean "stoopid" like really awesome and drunk as hell; I mean it sucked, hard. I ended up going for fifteen minutes, and I would have left sooner if I hadn't been trapped in the crowd. I figured I could find some really trashed freshman girl and take her back to the room, but it just wasn't worth it. I'm not a hateful guy, it just sucked.

The only useful thing about WILD is that it's an excuse to drink and party all weekend. I had a screwdriver (courtesy of Dauten 23's "Computer". Thanks, man) and some peppermint schnapps, and I was toasty for a few hours. I stole a beer at WILD, then went back to the 40 to get really to' up.

I ended up at the frats, which is fine by me. As long as they don't mind me being there, I don't mind being there. I'd never join a frat, but so many of my friends have, so it's hard to stay away. Plus, it's the place to go to find chicks who want some. I met Susan at TKE, and she was really really gone. About an hour after I got there, I left to walk Susan home, and she passed out on the bed. I called my phone using her phone so I could get her number, put a towel under her and put her head near a trash can before I left.

I called her the next day, like 3 in the afternoon, and she had just woken up. Hard night, I guess. I mentioned my assortment of drinks and she was over in 15 minutes. We did vodka shots and went to get late lunch.

I'm not looking for a relationship or anything, but I really had a good time with her. We went around campus, checking out every party we could find, until Alfonzo told me to go up on the roof of Danforth and watch Brody's dorm. Susan liked the idea, so we both went. I brought a flask of Jack.

We made out a little bit, and then she pushed me over and... how many people can say they've nailed a chick on the roof of a dorm? It was a little uncomfortable, but hey, it's pussy. I'll take it any way I can get it.

I got tired a few hours later, and so we sat around and finished off the flask, and then she left to find some more parties. I would have gone with her, but there was really no point; I was too drunk to walk and too tired to fuck. Why not stay on the roof and watch for Brody?

I woke up around 7 AM, when the sun started burning my asscheeks. I got dressed and went back downstairs. I know I was supposed to keep watch, but it didn't matter, anyway, because Brody sabotaged the plan. I swear, though, in the two hours I actually kept my eye on Dauten, the only thing that happened was Brody's suitemate, Dylan, threw a giant jar of cheese curls into the dumpster outside. I had some, a couple weeks ago. I don't know why they hadn't thrown them out earlier. Those things were narsty.

Anyway, I spent Sunday and Monday at a party. It got pretty thin around 1 PM Monday, but things picked up again last night. And yes, that means I skipped class. What's the point of going to class if you're drunk, and what's the point of not drinking if you aren't going to class?

Anyway, I've got a shit-ton of homework to do, and I'm pretty much screwed. Wish me luck, everybody!

-Chaz

Favorite Movie Week

Fight Club, boys and girls.

If you've seen it, good. If you haven't seen it, go see it. If you can't go see it, or you are somehow being held down, hold your breath until whoever is holding you lets go, and then go see it.

It's funny, it's violent, it's got a really weird sex scene, and it makes fun of men with bitch-tits. What more could you ask for?

How about a kickass soundtrack? I swear, I saw this movie and then went to buy the soundtrack, and I listened to it and was like "What the hell is this?" Somehow, when you watch the movie, you don't realize that the music is techno. After a while, even without the movie playing over it, you start to like it. I'm no techno fan, don't get me wrong, but there's something about these Dust Brothers that I like.

Nothing wrong with The Pixies, either. LA punk is the best around.



Chaz's Rating : Two thumbs up. Way up.

Wrath Of Alf

I am reporting on behalf of Alfonzo. We have put everything in place for phase two, and we are now waiting for the right time to spring the trap.

Here's how it went down: We obtained the reefer the weekend before last, and I've held onto it since then. I had to spend more time with Brody than I usually do, getting him drunk and asking him weird questions; things about the layout of his room, when he's in there and all that jazz. Alfonzo then wrapped the skunk in a plastic bag, wrote "Brody" on it in sharpie, and put the bag in a sock. We gave it to Alan, who's been spending a lot of time in the suite next door (Shout-out to Marina); Alan had mentioned how he floats in and out of Brody's suite a lot, and nobody seems to notice or care too much. So we gave him the sock, and told him to hide it somewhere where nobody would find it unless they knew what to look for. Alfonzo made sure that Alan didn't know what he was doing, so he isn't caught up in everything if the bottom falls out.

Well, Alan got back to Alfonzo just a couple hours ago, and he says he hid it somewhere that nobody will ever look or even stumble across. Alfonzo knows where, but I don't (he's a secretive bastard). He's taken off for Westfield and he says he's going to stay the whole weekend, so as to have an alibi in case somebody accuses him. From there, he'll tip off WUPD, and the fireworks begin.

I wonder what would happen if Alfonzo spent half as much time on homework as he does on Brody. He could be the president, or the manager of a Wolfgang Puck restaurant. I hope I never piss him off, though. The Brody obsession can only last so long, and I'm not about to bring down the wrath of Alf.

I wish he'd tell me more about his plans. I still don't know anything past Phase Two. He keeps talking like there's something left to do after this, but I can't imagine what more we could do to him. Maybe I don't want to know. At least he could tell me why he hates him so much; we all have our reasons, but we don't all weave doom and destruction in our spare time. It makes you wonder... what happened between the two of them to make Alfonzo so angry?

Eh, it's almost Friday, which means it's almost WILD, which means I'll be so drunk in 24 hours that I can already feel the effects.

-Chaz

Webcomics Week

I've never really liked anime or japanimation or things like that, so most of the webcomics that I've seen are kinda....yawn....
Honestly, I can't tell you how tired I am of e-mails that link me to some dude who looks like a chick with hair that points straight up and changes color. Honestly, I don't even mind forwarded messages, because I know to delete them. Shitty webcomic links pose as normal messages, and force you to click and read before realizing, it's just the same crap that you didn't want to see in the first place.

Except one. You've probably heard of Penny Arcade, but it's the only webcomic I've found that I really like.



Al? Al? Vlad? Your turn.

-Chaz

Party Time, Excellent

Yo Dudes and Dudettes, after a week of silence, ol' Chazzy has returned to the blog. It's been one crazy week (for the whole suite, actually) and I don't feel I've had any sort of break. Monday is tomorrow and it's like Friday never came. But homework and places to be have never stopped me from having fun.

Wednesday night, I met up with this chick from my Acting class. We were supposed to practice some dramatic readings, but instead drank tequila and made out all night. A little bummed that we didn't go further, but not that many chicks do the first time. Next time, though, she'd better put out, because I've got another one who keeps looking at me during Present Moral Problems. I can see it in her face; she's got some nice D.S.L. and she can't wait to use them.

Last thing: I know this couple, and they are two of the best people on campus. Shantious and Larkin are, I swear, the chillest people you'll ever meet at WU. It's work hard, play harder with those two. In all meanings of the phrase, I can't believe how much they do. So, anyway, I came across Alan's van in a parking lot today, and I decided I wanted to leave some sort of weird note. First, I looked around for a piece of paper, but couldn't find one. So I waited until nobody was nearby, took off my underwear, wrote "The Withered Road To Cockton" on the ass, then set them on fire for a minute. After putting it out, I draped it on the rearview mirror on the driver's side.

Anyway, Larkin's got a blog and it's pretty fucking hilarious, and she keeps bugging me to put a link up on Suite 3100, so I've done that. This will also get you there.

-Chaz

Adventures In Evil

It's just weird, folks. I never would have guessed that Alfonzo and I would join forces in anything. He's so much smarter than I am, and I really always thought that he hated me. He has assured me that whatever negative vibes I've picked up from him are from his "general misanthropy" and "world-weariness". It kinda seems like Alfonzo's glass is a little more than half-empty.

I think I'm doing him good, though. He could really use the stress relief. He's incredibly tense almost all of the time; something to do with hating the world in relative silence, I guess. I think that he thinks too much, but I also think I can help him think less.

We had to go to the Loop to begin phase two of operation "Brody Madness," so I suggested that we do some shots before we go; anyone who has been to the Loop knows that it never hurts to have a few under your belt beforehand. Well, he didn't say anything, but I get the feeling that Alfie isn't a big drinker. I downed my three shots of vodka (illegal import from the Motherland. Thanks, Vlad) before I noticed Alfonzo sipping from the edge of his first one.

The best way to learn anything is through experience. I shoved the shot glass into his mouth and pulled his head back and he coughed and hacked and the glass popped out of his mouth like a cork. I caught it, then Alfonzo bent over with his hands on his knees and wheezed a bit. He asked me what the hell I thought I was doing. I told him that they are called shots for a reason. His second one went down easier, and by the fourth one, he was a pro!

So we wandered down to the Loop, in search of some cheap weed for phase two. We stood out behind the Blockbuster, waiting for the guy to show up. Alfonzo was singing some song by "The Velvet Underground" which he said was about the lead singer waiting around to buy heroin. I told him that maybe he should sing a little quieter.

The guy showed up and we bought some dirt weed (stomped on, full of stems and seeds, and probably laced with something. The sort of stuff you'd only buy for someone else) and then went on our way.

By which I mean, I walked halfway around the building before I figured out that I'd lost Alfonzo. I found him talking to some girls through the windows of Blockbuster. There was some exchange of digits, but I'm not clear on who got whose or really anything that Alfonzo was trying to say. The girls went to check out, and Alfonzo stuck his head in a trashcan for a little while.

I took him home and tucked him in with an alka-selter, some motrin, and a bucket. That was Friday night, and he has not left his room since. I've knocked a couple times, and he groaned back so we know he's alive. I guess that's all we can do, if he won't open the door.

I think he'll look back on this and laugh. Or at least not vomit.

-Chaz

Absolutely Sick Of Learning

So as you probably read in Alan's blog, I got busted by the cops for smoking out behind Danforth. Ladeedah, folks. Whoopdeedoo. Move along now, there's nothing to see here.

Honestly, I'm not gonna be in any serious trouble (unless I get caught again), and I'd be a lot angrier if Brody hadn't gone down with me. Nothing makes me happier than when bad things happen to Brody. It's just a shame that I had to get tied into it.

Bunch of amateurs. Got no class, really. Alan knows how it's done. He's got the superstition with the constant paranoia; he bailed a few minutes before the cops showed up. Yeah, Alan, if you're reading this, I'm going to stick with you from now on. My reefer comes from one man and one man alone: my suitemate.

Oh yeah, the subject line. I am so sick of learning shit. Whatever happened to the glory days of High School where the first month of classes is a joke? Some of my profs have been lecturing since DAY ONE. Fucking first day of classes. Trying to milk their captive audience for all they're worth.

Women's Studies, though. Man, what a good idea. I'm basically playing wingman to Vlad, letting him take his pick before I move in. He doesn't seem too smart, but he knows how to work the ladies. There's one chick in there, Vlad says she's all mine. Long black hair, pale skin, nice little Jewish nose (God, thank you for all the Jewish girls)... I'm hoping she isn't a holdout for the homeland sort of gal. I can play lots of roles, but Jewish isn't one of them.

Alright. Peace!

-Chaz

Quiet Day

Not much to say here. It's been pretty neutral in the vie d'Chaz. Here are the classes I'm taking.

Present Moral Problems (Philosophy 131F): Tuesday and Thursday from 8:30 to 10.
Microeconomics (B-School, Blech): Tuesday and Thursday from 10 to 11:30.
How Things Work (Physics 107A): Tuesday and Thursday from 1 to 2:30.

Acting I (Drama 240E): Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 12 to 2.

But here's the best of them all : Intro to Women's Studies, MWF from 10 to 11. It was Vlad's idea; we enroll into the Women's studies course with a bunch of loose freshman chicks who just want to party with an older guy, and then bing! Suite 3100 has it's first party, just as soon as we can net a couple of hot ones who don't have any fat friends. I mean, Alfonzo and Alan can be downers sometimes, but nobody deserves a fat chick. They give out medals for that shit. Seriously, props to the wingman.

Anyway, that's a full load of classes, doggies. 15 and not an hour more.

-Chaz