Two Elon alumni (2002) have pooled their talents to bring excitement and joy to your day. One is a classy woman who combines her Italian and feminine powers to influence men of all shapes and sizes. The other is a tall blond man who relies on wit and boyish good looks to impress women, especially when they're drunk. Join them in their epic pursuit of the phenomenon known as adulthood. NoSalesTax side effects may include addiction and abrupt laughter as colleagues look on in confused jealousy.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Final Week in DC

I said goodbye to DC yesterday, but not before enjoying a great week of booze and buddies. Some highlights:

The OOB and I attended the parade after the Inaguaration. The parade itself was quite dull, but the throngs of protesters were quite amusing. We saw a guy w/ black and pink hair marching back and forth like a Nazi soldier right in front of the riot police. The riot police themselves were a treat, decked in face shields and shin guards, smiling at the little men and women enjoying (assumed) strength in numbers. It was a lil ridiculous. Just to remind 'em who's boss, the cops fired water into the crowd when it got a lil too rowdy. Being sprayed w/ water might be fun in July. Not when it's below freezing, though.

Oh, and I can't forget about the signs we saw, including "War does not increase penis size" and a giant placard w/ one side reading "F*ck off, Bush" and the other reading "Bush: A Motherf*cker." That one was for the kids, I'm sure. The maker of that sign also stood on the other side of the fence (where signs were allowed) and shouted at everyone who walked by, "Get a job! Get a job!" What an idiot. Oh, and there was a sign written on a paper tombstone that read: "R.I.P. My uterus." I have no idea what that means.

I enjoyed a pot luck dinner w/ my Ameri-Friends and a few Elon friends (including T-Rock and The Greggster) on Friday nite. TLs Deb and Emily made me a chocolate cake in the shape of a "J." It was one of the nicest things anyone's ever given me. I proceeded to get heavily drunk and wound up carrying an abandoned Christmas tree over my shoulder as I walked up and down 18th Street yelling, "Merrrrrrrrrrrrrrry Christmas. Ho ho hoooooooo!" Unfortunately the bouncers would not let me bring it into the bar.

The next nite found me drinking at Angry Inch, a bar I'm certain was created by Frat boys. Imagine big white guys in matching white tshirts drenched in sweat, dancing/moshing and screaming to AC/DC's Thunderstruck. I kept waiting for them to make out. Once Beezy started flaunting her bloody tongue (don't drink from broken beer bottles), I knew it was time to go.

Sunday, my final nite in DC, OOB and I went to Buffalo Billiards to watch the football games. Other friends arrived later, just in time to see us in rare form. I remember befriending some Eagles fans, cheering for their team, then talkin smack to Steelers fans, who outnumbered us 78-4. To their cheers of "Go Steelers," I countered w/ "Go CHAMPS!" On every big play for the Pats, I stood up, walked around and shushed them. The random Patriots fan who kept buying OOB and me various shots did not help the situation. After the Rodney Harrison interception and TD, I recall standing atop my bar stool and giving the bar the now-famous JMazz throat slash (usually reserved for wins against the Colts). Good times, good times. And I can't forget the bouncer who said to me, "I just thought you should know those Steelers fans are gonna kick your ass after the game." After the game, I went over and started talkin to some of 'em. I won them over pretty quickly, as I remember a couple guys telling their friends, "This guy's cool." Then a fight broke out and I somehow became the person holding back one of the guys. I avoided injury, although my throat is still sore from constantly shouting, "Not today, not tomorrow, NOT IN OUR HOUSE!" What a fantastic way to close out my DC life. Next stop, Boston.

On a side note, I had Pizza MAAAAAAAAAAAART four nites in my final week, probably causing irreperable damage to my body. But some things are just worth the punishment. Go PATS!


At 11:51 AM, Blogger T-Rock said...

I wonder what Pizza MAAAAAART tastes like when you're sober. when you come back to DC to visit, we should try it.


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