The 10 greatest drinking games OF ALL TIMES ... honorable mention

Might as well throw this up here now cause I have zero other ideas until baseball season starts.

Kings:

Another good game for a good sized crowd of people who don't necessarily know each other that well. Spread a deck of cards in a circle on the table around a cup (the "King cup"). The rules can vary, but here's what I can remember:
2-drink two
3-give three
4-social
5-something
6-something else
7-i don't care
8-fuck you
9-Bust a rhyme. Say a phrase, next person "busts a rhyme." Whoever fails to make a rhyme or rhymes with the same word drinks
10-I never
Jack-Categories. Choose a category (ie brands of beer, bill paxton movies, whatever -- get creative). Failure drinks
Queen-Question. Turn to someone in the group and asks a question. That person then turns to someone else and asks something else. Whoever breaks sequence has to drink.
King-Pour some of your drink into the King cup. When that last King is drawn it ends the game and that player has to drink the King cup. It can be interesting if strangely different drinks were poured in it. The combination of whiskey sour, rum and coke and miller lite is outstanding. I suggest you try it.



Wine Game: Pretty simple concept. Pass around a bottle/jug of wine, preferably one of those big Edward Carlos Rossi gallon jugs. Each person chugs as long as they can, while everyone else chants "WINE GAME! WINE GAME! WINE GAME!"
And whomever finishes the bottle gets to go out in the street and smash it.



I'm told this is a fun game for catholics, cause they can pretend the wine is the blood of christ or something. Mmmmmm, that's good Jesus blood.





F*ck the dealer:

Another card game. Dealer holds the cards. Next person guesses a number. Dealer says higher or lower. Person guesses again. If they are right, dealer drinks. Wrong, they drink. Guess right, guess again. Guess wrong, dealer moves to the next person. Three wrongs in a row and the dealer passes the deck. Also, the cards get laid out on the table as the game goes along. The last dealer gets screwed.


Edward 40 Hands:


Tape a forty to each of your hands. Duct tape works well.


Century Club: Shot of beer every minute for 100 minutes. The big brother of power hour. And never play the "30 pack Challenge."

OK, thats it I think.



Yeah I am done.

The 10 greatest drinking games OF ALL TIMES ... runner-up and champion

This would have been up earlier, but I found the RBI baseball drinking game and after a few clicks discovered some sort of RBI baseball subculture on the Interwebs.

Anyway, lets finish this thing.

2. Baseball. Even though it's only been played a couple times, it is incredibly awesome. Its like a combination of cups and beirut and baseball plus a million. If only I had known about in college. Single tear. Here's the setup:

I recommend you print this out and tape it to your forehead.

The rules are the same as baseball, a miss is an out, 3 outs per inning, 9 innings per game. Best played with 3 people per team, but 2 is OK and 1 can suffice for the truly hardcore.

The twist is stolen bases. At any point when you have runners on base, you can run over to the side of the table with the stolen base cup and flip it. Someone on the other team needs to be alert and run over as well, if the offensive player flips his cup first, its a steal. Vice versa is caught stealing. Never has stealing home been so fun and easy.



And remember should the champion be unable to fulfill its duties for any reason, Baseball would take over as number 1. I don't know what that means.


1. Cups The grand champion. So diverse and awesome. Be it playing 20 on 20 against sketchy frat boys from Michigan, who then fuck their girlfriends/sluts under the pool table in the chapter room -- or 60 games of 2v2 against Rymac and Ryno on the sundeck on a lazy friday afternoon -- or even a cups tournament in the Kave where your partner injures his shoulder a couple days prior but still tries to compete with his arm in a sling, probably doing further damage to said shoulder -- This game is a winner and winners play this game.



Everyone should fill their beers an equal amount. I personally prefer less beer per round and more rounds. First person drinks, sets their cup on the edge of the table and flips it 180 degrees so it lands upside down. Then the next person drinks and so on. First team to the end wins.

Some versions of this game stand out:
Guys v Girls: Always good for some nice old fashioned sexist remarks, This also pairs well with strip cups and pants down/shirts off cups.
Survivor: Losing team must vote off one of their own. This can result in backroom strategy, not to mention one person drinking 7 cups of beer to match up with the other team.
2v2: For the intense competitor. Playing thousands of games of 2v2 led to such terms as "reset time" referring to how fast you could flip again after a missed flip and "cups czar" of which I am an emeritus.
Random bets: One particular instance was when Heuch and I decided the losing team had to go pick a fight with DK. Which I did by walking up to him, throwing his hat and slapping him upside the head. That was a good night.

Strategy. One of the greatest things about this game is the shit talk. After someone misses a few flips they tend to get flustered, which can be augmented by screaming in their ear. Also don't be afraid to use 2 hands. While the rules concerning number of hands are sketchy at best, chances are in the heat of the game no one will call you on it.




"What are you talking about guys? That flip was legit."











So there it is, get out there and drink everyone. In putting this together I realized there are many other games that deserve their due, an honorable mention if you will. So that post may be coming. Someday.

I'll leave you with the godfather Duke Denevi creating his own variation of beirut. He describes it as " me spinning around 10 times on a baseball bat and then trying to throw a beer pong shot, while being harried by dogs."
I'm not sure its as good as all that, but the maniacal laugh/classic point at the end are fantastic.

The 10 greatest drinking games OF ALL TIMES ... #3-5

After much consideration, deep thought and whiskey, lets continue the countdown.

5. Asshole. Really this is just the token card game, with all apologies to Kings. Playable by any number of people. The object of the game is too get rid on all your cards. Play starts with the 3 of clubs then continues where each person has to play a card of equal or greater numerical value. You can also play doubles (ie 2 sevens) or triples, after which only doubles or triples of higher value can be played. If a card is played on another card of the same value, the next player is skipped and must drink. If you can't make a play, drink. 2s clear the pile. 4s can be played on anything and are a social. If all you have left are 2s you can give them away by holding them up in the air for some quick thinker to snatch away. And one optional variation is if a player has the completion of a set of 4, they can throw it down out of turn, also clearing the pile.
The first person to get rid of all their cards in the first round becomes president. Second=vice president. The hierarchy continues down to the last person, the asshole, who must deal the cards and clear them during the game. During the game the president rules and can make anyone drink or whatever. But while dealing the asshole can order out drinks. Positions change after each round, and moving around the table in accordance with rank is suggested. A three-term president gets to make a rule.
OK I think thats it. I never realized how complicated this game actually was. Also, a google image search of "asshole" is illadvised.


4. The Triathlon. This game is not for the meek. In fact it is 3 games in 1. Two teams of 2 square off in an epic battle of caps, beer pong and finally cups.(Note: I realize cups has not yet been mentioned in this countdown, but its a simple game really -- drink then flip cup. Also, this is the version of beer pong played with paddles, if you don't know what I'm talking about see earlier in the countdown.)


Basically you play all three of these games to 15, starting with caps, then beer pong and finally cups. Each team should have a 30 pack to start, chances are it will be gone by the end. COnsequences of playing this are unpredictable, but whoever wins has bragging rights for quite a while. For example I remember CW and Denevi making a run of beating several consecutive challengers. In my defense, I was playing with Charlie. But Cullen and I eventually took them down, leaving Denevi to barefootedly scream gibberish about "stupid cubs fans" and CW hopelessly clinging to an exposed beam in his room while imitating Snarf from Thundercats. Ahhhhh, good times.

3.Beirut aka Beer Pong.



The classic ping pong ball throwing game. Once again two teams of 2, take turns throwing the ping pong ball at each others pyramid of cups. Honestly if you have never played this before, you are an idiot. But heres a diagram to help out.



House rules are in effect, ie just make shit up as you go along, and then in later games adhere to the same rules. Although if a team makes both their shots, they get the ball back.
When playing at a big party, get a list of challengers going, winner stays on the table.
Another interesting variation is to play "full contact" where a player can run over to the other side and try to get their ball back if it caroms wildly after a miss. Although that can result in violence or locking yourself in the laundry room while some maniac bangs on the door with a chair.


Thats it for now, big finish coming later tonight. One game is obvious, but whats the other?

The 10 greatest drinking games OF ALL TIMES

So I got a call tonight from someone who I'll call "the godfather" of this blog. And he made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Well actually I could refuse, cause he lives 4 million miles away and I am soooo lazy. But nevertheless, he made some good points and here we are.

This could be a running feature, where I go in depth on every game and do some sort of countdown to number 1 with crazy stories and all, but chances are I'll lose interest in that after a couple days. So we'll split the difference. Here's the beginning of the list, with more in depth shit as we get closer to number one.

The criteria are determined but not entirely understood by me. Fuck what you think, I am the decider.

First observe the unofficial mascot. The patron saint of all binge drinking: Nude Heuch Keggy.





















Now here we go.

10. The cigarette burn game. In this a game you take a cup and fasten tissue paper across the top with a rubber band. Place a penny in the center of the paper and fire up some cancer sticks. Everyone need not smoke but the more the better. One person will burn the tissue paper with their cig, and the next guy has to drink while the tissue paper is burning. Eventually the penny will fall, but do not doubt the freakish strength of tissue paper. Whoever makes the penny fall has to drink a whole beer or do 8 shots or something.

9. Keg Race. 2 teams, each with their own keg. Whoever runs dry first wins. Its inadvisable to play this with less than 15(?) people per team. For all you crazy frat boys out there, it makes for a good competition between pledge classes. Seniors always win.

8. Quarters. There are many variations on this simple game of bouncing quarter into a shot glass/mug/ice cube tray/strippers vagina but my personal favorite is speed quarters. In which you flip the quarters into 2 or more shot glasses as fast as you can, racing around the table. Anytime someone gets passed they must drink. Also, don't forget variations where someone can make a rule if they make 3 in a row, ie chandeliers.

7. Beer Pong. With all apologies to my east coast homeys this version is played with paddles. Teams of two hit the ball back and forth at the 2 cups set up on each side. Hit the cup=1 point, losers take a sip. Put it in=3 points, losers pound the rest. You can counter if the ball hits your cup, but not if it goes in (no shit). Honestly, this isn't even that good of a game (sorry CW), but it comes into play later in the countdown.

6. Caps. Ah caps. Truly a mans game. Sit in teams of two, teammates next to each other on the floor, across from the opposing team. Fling caps at the other team's cup, positioned between the two teammates. Sinking it means the other team must drink a full beer between them. No "half beers" and damn sure no "pussy caps" where each teammate only has to take a sip. A made cap can be countered by a made cap from the other team. no points are exchanged on counters but it continues in order as long as caps are made, only the threat of drinking remains as punishment of a miss. Many variations of this game exist as well. Standard rules are to 11, win by two. STEEL CONDOMS!














There truly is nothing better than a caps league, complete with running commentary on all the games from Hertel. That crazy bastard is probably dead now.


Stay tuned for the top 5, coming sometime in the next week if I feel like it.

Halloween in Madison

This post has been a long time coming.

Two out of the three riots I've been in where in the same place on the same day of the year. When thousands of Badger students, along with students from all over the upper midwest gather in the land of cheese and beer it tends to get a little crazy.

First time:
I drove up with a bunch of NU peeps + Jenny. Not sure exactly what happened. A few memories remain:

Heuch, aka my nemesis, getting hit on by presumably gay dudes because he was rocking the sailor costume. I really wish I had that pic of him with the big black dude in a tutu.
Jenny (drunkenly) driving us back to Evanston in Joe's car (with Joe and Paulie passed out in the back). A two and a half hour drive. Good old Dodge Avenger. For american 90s era beater cars, the Avenger is only surpassed by the Ford Taurus.

My costume consisted only of glue-on fangs, a black hoodie and fake blood. Sketchy at best, especially cause I kept scaring the shit out of random people. Also, thats where the fake blood came from.

Second time:
This time I was living in Madison, so I got the full weekend experience.

The first night we got drunk sans costumes, I forget where.

I think we ended it at city bar, Melville and I, and we were walking back up State St. talking shit to anyone who would listen. Mostly each other.

Some chick in a bumblebee costume walked past, and Bob proceeded to heckle the shit out of her. I believe the gist was "YOU ARE A FAT BEE!"

So this leads to her accompanying dudes getting in Bob's face, and eventually tackling him. The one guy has him pinned to the ground. All I see is this random guys back, so I hit him repeatedly in the kidneys. That guy pissed blood the next day. We fled back to our house, fortunate to avoid arrest by the plethora of Police who were out, presumably to prevent events such as this.


The next night we all went out.

Roster/Costumes

Me/Sketchy Lil' Jon, and later after I met up with Adams, some sort of ridiculous gangsta
Bob/Agent Smith from the Matrix, not from Men in Black
Warden* and Maker/ the Bow(?) brothers, aka some crazy-ass fuckers they know who may have mullets
Pietro/Drunk Italian with a mustache?
Snight/something lame I'm sure (may or may not be a real person)
later we met up with John Adams/Lil' Jon

there were probably others there, but I forget

We went to some apartment party and took control of the keg, administering keg stands at leisure. After we got thrown out of there, and Bob tossed a beer on one of the hosts as the elevator door closed, we hit up State St.

This is all a blur, but I do remember Warden slapping ass and drunken video hijinks. I wish I had that video. I think Warden was interviewing random people on State street. Impersonating some sort of video producer kicks ass.

Yeah -- so neither time was I actually in the riot, but thats just cause I was smart enough not to get tear gassed.

*Warden=Rehfuss

Fake blood and you ... a pranksters guide

This story was told out in Vegas, and I cannot believe I hadn't put it up here yet. Stupid memory loss.

So some random night in Evanston, Paulie, Joe and I (I'm sure there were others there--Mueller?) proceed to tie one on. I think we started with 40s purchased across the street at D&D Ghetto Grocery, followed by caps, gravity bongs, and the 1800 Club. As an aside for those who know, 1800 Club>PURE, despite the presence of Cornelius.


So we kick it in the 1800 Club beer garden for a while, get even more plastered, and eventually head back to my apartment while committing felonious acts of vandalism.

A quick note about the apartment, because it's important later. Joe and I lived on the "garden" level of a 4-story apartment building just off NU campus. It was pretty good size for 2 people, but still fairly ghetto due its lack of windows and the general economic instability of its tenants. My bedroom featured glass double doors into the living room, which I had classily taped up with old newspapers. But we did have two TVs for some reason.

So anyway, we get back and chill to the free cable, and as per usual, Joe passes out on the couch. Not sure how it started, but Paulie and I decide to fuck with him, frankly, because we could. It was one of the most enjoyable things about my senior year -- having someone pass out on the couch every night, and messing with him at our leisure.

So anyway, I have the brilliant idea to bust out the fake blood I have left over from Halloween. I think we put some on his hand and arm. And laughed uproariously. But Joe did not wake, and eventually we passed out ourselves.

The next morning Joe awoke and found himself covered in (what he thought was) blood, so he predictably freaked the fuck out. I got you good you fucker. But this is where it gets even more ridiculous.

The alcoholic super decided this was the morning that he needed to show the apartment to 2 innocent young coeds. Joe tried to persuade him at the door, but old drunk John super was having none of it. Dadgum it, he was going to illegally show this apartment whether it was going to rent or not.

So he brings them in, past the trashed kitchen, into the living room which has 40s, caps, beer cans and probably drug paraphenalia strewn all over in the haphazard manner typical of a mini-bender.

Joe maybe still had blood on him and definitely was rocking a wife-beater covered in bacon grease. Paul was lying on the futon giggling maniacly. I, still asleep in my room, heard the commotion and burst out of the double doors in my boxers. Pretty much everybody is like, WTF is going on, except for Paulie, who is still giggling.

Needless to say no one else came to see our apartment for the rest of the year.

The kicker is the super still insisted on looking at the bedrooms, only to discover Joe's blood covered sheets.

Vegas baby, uhhhh Vegas?

I was going to be generous call it the "KE Kicked-off Campus Memorial Vegas bachelor party", but in lieu of recent events I think "complete abortion" is better. Damn you cop for pulling me over on my way home from the airport and issuing me a $150 citation when I have exactly $13.56 to my name. You truly are a competent public servant who I wish dead.



Despite the excessive amounts of fear and loathing on this trip, I did have a good time, I think.
For example, seeing all the peeps was fantastic. Even DJ.
Also, riding in a stretch Hummer is a frivolous expense I can handle. Even if the ride is only 6 minutes long. YEAH! /little jon
And whiskey is always good.

That said, four days in Vegas is too much. Do not deny it. By the end I was breathing out some sort of THC/nicotine-based mist and hallucinating due to sleep deprivation and over-stimulation of the senses.

But walking back from the buffet using all of my severely limited mental capabilities to keep from vomiting all over the casino was a good challenge.

I will get into more details later, but I'm tired as shit right now and need to relax to some quality television. Ok lets see ... Domino? Damn you HBO!

Condiment Fight

Preface: I received some "constructive criticism" from a "reader" and apparently there isn't enough "coherent narrative" here at the old Fainting Goats. In my defense I do this for my own entertainment (read the subhead), but I'll admit that anything with a timestamp after 4 am is not to be trusted.

But anyway, back to the bread and butter that everyone craves. Thats right -- stories I can barely remember from some random time I got drunk!

I'm sure everyone has held a bottle of ketchup and thought to themselves, what if I had a food fight, except limited only to condiments? No? Well let me tell ya, it is fucking glorious and hilarious and gay.













One time at the old KE my nemesis and I returned from a luckless night at the bar.

Nemesis and I had, as was tradition, been giving each other shit all night with no other purpose than to see if we could get under each other's skin. This came to a head while we were sitting in the basement/kitchen of KE, which was stocked with assorted food products. Grantpiece and Fancy were there as well.

Fancy had, as was tradition, been gorging himself while uttering such gems as, "aaaaaahahhaha BEEF" and smearing roast beef all over his face. This required copious amounts of ketchup, mustard, probably relish, and of course Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ sauce.

At some point nemesis made some snide remark and I held a squeeze bottle of mustard at his eye in a threatening way. Said eye then got a mischievous glint that was only too familiar, and I knew it was on.

We stripped out of our bar clothes and into our skivvies cause we couldn't afford new bar clothes (Northwestern education at work), and proceded to basically spray the hell out each other (and the KE basement) with all the condiments we could get our hands on. The coup de grace was when I threw a tray of croutons at my nemesis, many of which stuck to his mustard and ketchup covered back.

Sidenote: There was a glorified janitor that worked in the KE kitchen during the day. His name was Vince and he was a big ass black dude from the south side. Vince was the man, not to mention totally nuts. He had been stabbed, shot and generally lived in the ghetto his whole life, but still put up with a bunch of privileged/drunken Northwestern frat boys on a regular basis. Probably because of the reverence we showed when he showed off his stabbing scars. Also, Vince drank 40s with us in the Kave.

After the fight, my nemesis and I decided we didn't want to make Vince clean up our horrific mess, so we did a half assed cleanup ourselves, which restored the kitchen to a state not unlike a normal night, ie there was beef and smashed fruit all over the place.

Aftermath: After getting cleaned up -- or maybe before -- all 4 of us decided it would a good idea to fuck with the 2nd floor(we lived on the 3rd and 4th floors). So we stole the partition between their two bathroom stalls and put it on the 4th floor sundeck. They didn't get it back for at least a couple months, and a few of them even said they enjoyed the double-wide bathroom stall. I should pull the same prank at work.

As far as I know, there is still mustard on the ceiling in the now boarded up KE kitchen.

straight up breaking shit

Ah, destruction and or petty vandalism. I guess this counts as another episode of drunken tales. Good times.

A few specific instances illustrate my point. There are many more assorted streetsign-stealing, mailbox-knocking-over related incidents that lend to the memories, but these 2 stand out.

1> Throwing shit off the 4th floor sundeck. In the late KE fraternity (Epsilon Delta chaper) we used to toss random shit off our little patio where the fire escape met the roof. Of note were Mike Brown's filing cabinet, assorted couches and water balloons, both launched and thrown. For example. Launching balloons onto the sidewalk in front of the engineering building (aka Tech) while unsuspecting NU students were walking between classes.
Also throwing water balloons at football players, resulting in them throwing a football at the front of the house. Followed by future NFL draftee LB Billy Silva punching out a house window. All that remains is that I'm glad Silva and Kevin Bentley didn't kick my ass when I ran out to confront them. Stupid drunk.

2> Smashing cars aka Busting the hell out of a 1980 Honda with Alaska plates in Wisconsin. The car was clearly abandoned. The highlights were me kicking out the windshield (possibly my favorite thing I have ever done), and the Warden running inside to get a crowbar so he could properly smash out the headlights/windows. Cops are dumb.

Sword Fight

I am of the opinion that Milwaukee is a hellhole.

This is the main reason.

During college, we took a road trip up to Marquette University, which, in case you didn't know, is in Milwaukee.

Night of belligerence involving box of wine, apartment parties and box of wine.

Eventually we make it back to the condo where we are staying. Mueller and I decide that its a good idea to go out on the 2nd floor balcony and heckle/talk shit to people walking by.

After some indiscriminate amount of time, some guy walks by wearing one glove, so I start yelling various Michael Jackson related insults. He responds by inviting me downstairs to settle our differences

I accept, mostly due to liquid courage. But since I am rolling out alone against Michael Jackson and his crew of 3-4 I decide to bring a weapon. Looking around the condo, theres a bag of golf clubs, a mini wooden bat and a broadsword.

I choose sword and run downstairs to the front stoop brandishing it like Inigo Montoya.

At this point its kind of a blur, but in essence Mr. Jackson was crazier than me that day.

He came straight at me. I promptly realized I had chosen wrong. What the hell could I do with the sword. I'm not going to run him through like some sort of pirate.
And while I hesitated he got me into a full nelson. But I am still brandishing the sword, effectively keeping his friends off me.

"Drop the sword!"
"Let me go, I'll drop the sword!"
Etc. A stalemate.

At this point some other dude probably named Karl(who apparently knows judo and likes to fight) rushed out the front door. He stands there for a second sizing up the situation, and one of Michael's friends runs up and punches him in the face. They start scuffling and general mayhem ensues. During which Mueller is throwing beer bottles that are shattering all over the front porch.

Eventually the guy who punched Karl starts screaming, "YOU BIT MY FUCKING FINGER OFF"

And in fact, Karl had done just that. I see the guy holding his hand with a flap of skin keeping his pinky still attached.
Apparently Old Nine Finger had given Karl a fishhook, so Karl had chomped down, clear through the bone.

That ended the fight, and I retired back to the condo, where I cleaned up my foot, due to a piece of broken glass had sliced my big toe clear to the bone. Thanks Mueller.

Bat Party

More drunken tales.

Bringing it to the East Coast.

I'll set the scene.
Bob's house. 2 Kegs. A douchebag in the now infamous pink shirt(from now on known as "Pinky"). drunken randoms everywhere. Jello shots.

Started off, classic beer bash. The 3 B's: Boozing, Beer Pong and Belligerence. May or may not have been fireworks.

But at some point a stray jello shot found its way onto said pink shirt. Pinky, gangsta that he is, did not take this lightly. Eventually his pink rage focused on Craigs cousin, for understandable reasons. He can be an asshole.
There was much shoving, grabbing of shirts and pointing, with the end result of Pinky and crew's ejection from the party.
Taken as a sign of disrespect, the pink shirt crew decided to arm themselves with 2 aluminum baseball bats and a golf club. They stormed the party, presumably to exact their revenge, but were disarmed fairly quickly. Bob standing in the doorway with an unloaded shotgun helped too.
Craziness ensued, with no serious injuries, except to Bob's deck furniture.

We ended up staying up til sun-up doing shots of Jager. And now I can't drink Jager. Oh well.


Note: The golf club did turn up in Bob's bushes a good 2 years later.

Drunken Tales

In order to try to make regular posts, I plan on telling some interesting (to me) tales of belligerence from my past. And what better way to get it started than the infamous 'Iowa shitter' incident.

So back in college, every year we would have a rush trip to an away NU football game. Basically it was an excuse to get wasted somewhere else, and on a bus.

In the fall of 2000, said road trip was to Iowa for the NU-Iowa football game. That year, the football team enjoyed an unprecedented number of ridiculous victorys in games the team had no business winning. So we headed to Iowa with nothing less than a Rose Bowl bid on the line.

Of course NU lost, relegating them to a horrific beat down by Nebraska in the Alamo Bowl. We responded to Iowa chants of "overrated" with chants of our own like "Cut the Mullet" and "You still live here." Keeping it classy as always.

But the true tale comes when myself and Anjelk made our way to the stadium bathroom, likely due to the numerous games of cups we had played prior to entering the stadium.

Its important to note that the stalls in the bathroom had no doors, so those brave enough to drop the cosby kids off at the pool would have to do so in front of dozens of fat midwesterners.

As we entered the pisser, I noticed a man sitting on the floor, with a bunch of sheets of newpaper under his ass. He had a wheelchair nearby, and was not squatting, but sitting cheeks to floor, shitting on the newspaper. No one else in the restroom was phased by this at all. You might think that a Good Samaritan might come to this obviously handicapped man's aid, and help him shit in the bowl like a normal person. But i guess in Iowa, a fat retarded man shitting on the floor during a college football game is par for the course.

So anyway, I turned to Anjelk as we exited the bathroom and said, "Thats not something you see everyday."

At least the trip wasn't a total waste.