On Saturday morning we packed up and left Milwaukee at 11 AM for Madison, WI, for what has become known as Storm the Capitol! Basically it involves drinking in Madison. We were going to golf in the afternoon, but because of the forecasted rain, we decided to go play cards at the Union terrace, and drink, staying outside during non-raining periods. Before #1 Dad arrived, we decided that we would all take on ridiculous roles in the conversation, and see which one of us was figured out first. TJ said the opposite of whatever Dad did, I mentioned birds every time I spoke, The Wizard related everything to the weather, King Asshole spoke in mathematical equations, and Tone Loc only said "Whats up Al!" I'm proud to say that when #1 Dad found out what was going on, he declared me the winner for such gems as "Hey Tim, could you wing me another beer," and "Quoth the raven, nevermore."
After cards, we went to another student union to bowl. The teams were easy to set up, as we had 3 Marquette alums (God's team, despite the presence of a heathen) vs. 3 Wisconsin alums (Marx's team). MU won handily in the first two games, despite our beloved alma mater's current lack of a nickname, while UW won a meaningless third game. Both King Asshole and The Viscount of Scrots put together turkeys to garner shots of Wild Turkey, while for winning the game our team won Jagie-bomb shots. Unfortunately, by the time we got to the bars to get these shots, we were already pretty tired, so they were mostly nursed.
Okay, time to skip to the end of the night. Everybody was wasted. I was near our hotel, for reasons that alcohol has prevented from reaching my long term memory. Suddenly I see the Viscount of Scrots stumbling down State St, head mostly down, in the direction of our hotel. However, he was not going to the hotel. I'm pretty sure that, had I not stopped him, he would've kept stumbling until he hit the Capitol Building. But I did stop him, and attempted to corral him, but unfortunately I did not have a key to get into the room and put him to bed. Earlier in the night, when offered a key, I declined, because I tend to lose things (cellphones, digital cameras, shoes) when I go out. So, I had to call up the Peasant of Pap Smear in order to get a key.
At this point, the story is as was related to me later by the Peasant of Pap Smear. Apparently, when he arrived, I was holding the Viscount of Scrots up against a brick wall with a forearm to the chest (he has about 4 inches and 40 pounds on me, mostly muscle and scrot). I was also apparently being completely belligerent with him, because (I suppose) of mounting frustration at dealing with this mountain of a man. So we took him upstairs as I forcefully and sarcastically pushed the Viscount of Scrots into the elevator. At this point, he started saying our room number (321) repeatedly, as in "3! 2! 1! Contact!" Also, there were two girls in the elevator, both of whom were invited into our room with as much grace as a 200 pound drunken zombie can muster, as PoPS and I repeatedly told the girls to ignore our friend.
Okay that's the most interesting stuff I can remember, but I'm sure there are things I'm forgetting, so if any of the "Capitol Gang" would care to add, go ahead.
Posted by mill1991 at June 8, 2005 11:42 AM
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