February 14, 2005

Good weekend

I spent the weekend in Milwaukee for a friend's birthday party, and to make up for flaking out over winter break. It was a good time, though I wasn't "on," so everything interesting that happened was the result of someone else and I just took notes. But it was activity-filled. I got there just in time for the birthday party which went all night Friday. The next day we did activities ranging from free bowling (paid for by Marquette's Habitat for Humanity chapter), watching Wisconsin's basketball team beat themselves like Urban in a pup tent, kicking field goals in the park by the lake, and watching some more college basketball with friends at Buffalo Wild Wings. It's really hard to be a vegetarian there - the soda comes with beef chunks in it, and you have to special order to get napkins that aren't made out of dehydrated goat innards.

While watching the game, Nate's brother $ (pronounced "Money") told us that one of the players we were watching had down syndrome. Nate called from the end of the table "That's right." "No way - that is ridiculous," I said. "I know," Nate replied quietly. "I told him that as a joke a few weeks ago and now he's been telling everybody since then." So we had a good chuckle about that. Then about an hour later, someone new showed up, and $ told him the down syndrome anecdote, and this guy, who knows college basketball but was not in on the joke, exposed it for how ridiculous it was, and Nate was forced to admit it was a lie. $ told us that he had been telling a lot of people that, like people at the school he teaches at, and basically anyone within earshot whenever this team was on TV or mentioned.

Another funny story about $, which didn't happen this weekend, but just hearing the story was one of the funniest things that happened to me this weekend. The scene: A house party.

Girl: So where are you teaching now?
$: I'm in Whitefish Bay.
Random eavesdropping guy: Hey! I'm from Whitefish Bay! Do you know anybody?
$: (Turns to random guy with evil eyes) Do you know any fucking 8th graders? Because that's all I know.
$: (Turns back to girl) What a fucking weirdo. Posted by mill1991 at February 14, 2005 11:16 AM | TrackBack

Comments

Great $ stories. I personally like the story about the pies, but I understand it may be a bit long for this website. Thanks for taking the trip to MKE this weekend, good times.
#1 DAD

Posted by: #1 DAD at February 14, 2005 5:15 PM

ASK TIM QUESTION --

I have question for Tim who is wise like the old Piut Indian. While herding cattle on the Ponderosa a Indian savage told me, "Don't look (or was it lick) a gift horse in the mouth". I understand what this is supposed to mean, but it makes no sense? Can you try to explain the origins of this saying? And is it "don't look..." or "don't lick..."

Thanks,
Benjamin Cartwright

Posted by: Ben Cartwright at February 14, 2005 5:21 PM

I went to Whitefish Bay High School, but I think I might shoot myself if I ran into anyone from there--so props to your friend for avoiding temptation and just shooting withering looks. I've noticed, in general, that people I run into from Bay around campus have this inability to "graduate"--I say this while tapping my head--and forget high school already. I remember one time, a guy from Bay was in my dorm room (this was a while back), drunk, and he went to his friend's website and started drunk-reminiscing about how tight he and the "crew" from the football team were senior year, and how he couldn't believe that his friend was abandoning the crew for his new college friends. And then he started naming teachers and random people from high school who I had managed to forget. Chances are that was the same guy $ ran into...or maybe just one of the guys from the "crew."

Posted by: Stephanie at February 17, 2005 3:06 AM