Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Barbarians At The Gates

A fine day to you, Kind Followers of the Absurd.

My third year in university brought about considerable change.  By then we were becoming acutely sensitive to the near sub-human levels of abuse we were subjecting ourselves to while living in residence.  The wasted lifestyle, increasingly nasty conditions and the introduction of human toxins which upset the delicate, rain forest-like ecosystem of our floor's interpersonal dynamics gave us plenty of motivation to ponder living  off-campus.

The straw that broke the camel's back was our last floor party which was the saddest bacchanalian spectacle in recorded history.  We weren't getting along with the newer students on the floor and many of them openly invited the biggest parade of bimbos, mutants, strangers and freaks ever assembled at one time in one place.  I actually have video of this debacle and can vouch for just how pathetic it was.

Here are some of the "highlights":
  • Our self-appointed cameraman asks a girl "Hey!  Who are you?" and she gamely replies: "Uh, I dunno."
  • A passed out frosh in the common room "comes to" just long enough to vouch that he's "hammered".  When asked by our intrepid photojournalist for any advice for the viewing public he espouses the ironic philosophy "drink beer, get drunk", makes the request "don't touch me and I'll me fine", clutches his head and then promptly passes out again.
  • One drunk girl grabs a diminutive friend and gloats "Look!  I'm eighteen, she's nineteen and I'm taller than her!"  Hooray for small victories!
  • A well-known purveyor of illicit substances at the time passes by, sees the camera and covers the lens like he's Tony Montana.
  • In a "methinks thou dost protest too much" moment an otherwise attractive Asian girl keeps repeating "Hi, I'm Tai!  I'm drunk!" every time the camera comes remotely close to her.
  • Our correspondent keeps doggedly asking "WHO THE HELL ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE?!" but at no point does he receive a coherent reply.  
  • An admittedly good-looking, black football player who had the misfortune of being stuck on our floor with a bunch of crazy crackers, recoils from the obvious patronage coming from a pack of overheated varsity penis holsters, makes a disparaging remark about being forced to walk amongst "mere mortals", makes faces to the camera to communicate his Herculean disgust and then promptly flees into the elevator.  
  • The height-discriminatory drunk chick finds two friends who's proportions are more to her liking, one of whom is clearly using a wall to keep herself upright.   
  • The aforementioned passed-out frosh revives just long enough to use the common-room's garbage can to vent the toxins from his body, narrowly avoiding a sure case of alcohol poisoning.  The camera man helpfully points out "What were you saying about beer earlier?" but all the red-faced subject can do is pant, sweat and sway in place.  The girl who was using the wall to stay upright earlier lurches into the scene like Bambi on ice and clutches at  him, oblivious to the fact that the he reeks like the hoppy contents of an overripe compost heap.  She excitedly asks him "Hey!  Did you just puke?" and then follows this up with an incongruously celebratory "WOO!  HOO!"  The shot ends abruptly when "Barfy McYaksalot" desperately staggers through the crowd of deviant vomit voyeurs while muttering "A'ight guys, I just gotta...HURRRK!!!"
  • The documentarian begins to show a disturbing tendency to zoom in on the face of a girl who resembles a pre-"What Not To Wear" intervention Minnie Mouse.
  • The camera is promptly stolen by "Minnie" who proceeds to capture the parade of human flotsam with all the verve and passion of an "Al Jazeera" correspondent.  
  • As the camera passes a clutch of inebriated underclassmen an inexplicable cheer goes up in honor of Bathurst, New Brunswick.  WTF??!!
  • An ownerless room has obviously been annexed by a platoon of girls who alternately dance wantonly, hide behind pillows or attempt to keep upright by holding their over-sized heads in their hands.  One of them demands "WHO OWNS THAT VIDEO CAMERA?" prompting "Minnie" to suspect that her cover as a member of the press core might be blown.  She attempts to flee the room but is interdicted by a girl who's fetish is clearly to dance with other girls carrying video cameras.
  • Amidst repeated offers for "Beer?  Beer?  Beer?  Beer? Beer?  Beer?  Beer?  Beer? Beer?  Beer?  Beer?  Beer? Beer?  Beer?  Beer?  Beer?" "Minnie" attempts to introduce herself to the floor's resident preppie/fashion plate/douchebag who facetiously enthuses "Oh, wow!  You're 'Minnie'?  THE 'Minnie'?  Oh, wow.  I never met you before."   In the face of his naked sarcasm 'Minnie' offers up a scorned and awkward "Uh, okay" before retreating from the room.  
  • Our original cameraman recovers the implement of damnation and performs one last gratuitous close up on 'Minnie'.  He asks her "any last words?" and when she replies "Sex.  That's all I wanted" it's clearly his turn to exit stage right without any ado.
  • He promptly bumps into a particularly honest observer who sounds like a Greek chorus of bitterness.  All the while the camera is on him he mutters over and over again: "F#@%&*^ mutants!  MUTANTS!  MUTANTS!  MUTANTS!  I'm pissed off!"               
  • A perfect example of this materializes mere seconds later when one of our more infantile frosh begins an impromptu pose down while assuring us that "CAPERS", do, in fact,  "RULE." 
  • Our cameraman catches one of the rare few legitimately attractive, intelligent and sober girls at the party and instigates a stilted conversation as to whether or not he was present downtown the previous night.  A rival suitor barges in, and asks her awkwardly "ARE YOU DRUNK YET?"  and when she replies "Uh, no" he wittily retorts "I KNEW THAT!  I CAN TELL BY YOUR EYES!  THIS TIME I CAN!"  The camera abruptly shuts off presumably so both men can butt heads and compare penis sizes in a vain effort to curry the favors of a girl who is scarcely aware that either of them exist.
  • A clearly wasted foreign frosh can only manage an Eastern Bloc-style drunken soccer cheer when the camera passes by.  He grabs a clearly unimpressed upperclassman for a "picture" yelling "HEEEEAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!"  in a drone that makes the vuvuzela sound appealing.  Just as the painful spectacle ends a considerably cooler and infinitely more respected freshman floor-mate rounds the corner and gives the camera the finger as a clear sign of contempt.  Gold, Jerry, gold!
  • Back in the annexed room the clutch of drunken dancers have regrettably been inspired by Madonna to "Express Themselves", apparently by  gyrating into the camera's unblinking lens.      
  • An oval-faced girl with horrendous teeth seems impressed both by the presence of a video camera and the man who wields it.  She blurts out "WOW!" as she turns around to face him, then gives our intrepid documentarian a creepy, leering full-body stare-down, her eyes lingering uncomfortably around the vicinity of his crotch.  She demands his name while dislodging what appears to be popcorn kernels from between her teeth with her tongue.  He gives his name like a serf in a gulag and then shoves her to the side to see what's going on in the room beyond.  The clearly pained occupant grimaces mutely either as symptom of intoxication or the desire to crawl away and die. 
  • Hordes of drunken goons are shown leaving the wake, in droves, clearly exceeding the safety limit of the elevators in a mindless drive to get downtown where they can properly exhibit themselves as a**holes in a public venue.  They threaten "Hey, WE'RE leaving, so this party is officially over!" but the cameraman is too polite to break it to them that there never was a party to begin with.  
  • Three girls clearly with the patience of saints are enduring a screening of video footage we took on our recent "Spring Break" to the colorful and tropical destination of St. John's, Newfoundland.  The cameraman continues to torture the girls with extreme closeups while the host threatens to subject them to another "hour-and-a-half to two hours" of additional video footage.  The crushing gulf of silence that results is finally alleviated when one girl notices another girl's new watch and everyone in the room proceeds to coo over it until the scene mercifully ends.
  • A reveler attempts to yell into the camera but head butts it instead.  He seems unfazed by the blunt skull trauma but the camera's damage deposit is now in question.
  • The bitter attendee is spotted again, still muttering his mantra of  "F#@%&*^ mutants!  They're all f#$@%^& mutants!"             
  • An unidentified stranger is spotted using the unsupervised suite phone, presumably racking up a massive phone bill by drunk-dialing tribes people in Somalia. 
  • When prompted for comments, one of our funniest "Cubans" er,...Bermudians on the floor replies "Lick My Arse!" with a perfectly straight face.  It could very well be the highlight of this entire sad reel.
  • The dulcet strains of yet another Iron Curtain cheer of "HEEEEEAAAAAAAAYYYY!" can be heard as our sloshed Slav demands that the cameraman "take a picture" of another unimpressed upperclassmen.  They are shown together in the next shot but for the second time that night, our subject is blissfully unaware that he's being made fun of with a surreptitious and clandestine hand gesture.   
  • Another friend is spotted with an empty mug the size of a small child.  He hefts it skyward with the indication that it once contained "Good Medicine".  
  • Another revered member of the football team is seen frantically trying to tune in some blurry television channels in the common room, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding din, chaos and miasma.  All the while the camera holder grills him for sound bites like he's Adolf Eichmann.  All he can do is laugh, try and dismiss him with a wave of the hand and chuckle about how "us crazy white folks gotta quit it."      
  • In an even more inexplicable scene, three bona-fide hotties are in my room head-banging to the strains of "She Sells Sanctuary" by The Cult while watching a hockey game.  I think that it goes without saying that I got absolutely no action from any of these girls at any point in time during this disastrous evening (or any other evening for that matter).  
Needless to say that this was all the motivation we needed to get the f#@& out of Dodge.


FAIL: WTF?!?  Seriously, can someone explain this s#^! to me? 

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