Post "Drinky Drinky Smashy Smashy" Report
Karl's Blog. Stardate Blah Blah Blah,
Wow back in school. All I do is wait for graduation in May. Until then I fill my time with HSA, AUS, French Club, DSBH Soccer, and now an AMS campaign. At least I don't have to worry about pesky exams or research papers. I could take a really cool class or something, but, I would rather not spend on another class and the subsequent books that said class would require. Anyway, on with the show, eh.
As I've mentioned before, my friends and have a New Year's tradition we dub "Drinky Drinky Smashy Smashy". Pretty self-explanatory. We drink and then we smash. This is I believe the third installment of the "Drinky Drinky Smashy Smashy" saga, also known as "Smashy's Revenge". Although, I attend these outings, this year was the first time that I was able participate in the smashing. In previous years I always arrived late, well after the smashing and midnight, because I was at work in a restaurant in the ghetto part of Gastown dressed as a monk. Due to this predicament, I would arrive and try to play catch-up as I would listen to them describe the carnage that I missed out on. Last year I found memorable because I arrived with my dinner from McDonald's, and to my astonishment everyone had glassy eyes and were some how very very hungry. So within 5 minutes of me leaving the McDonald's Drive-Thru on Marine, I was back talking to the same lady except this time armed with over 10 orders written on a scrap piece of paper so I could keep track of them all.
Oh my I've already digressed with back story to "Drinky Drinky Smashy Smashy". So where was I? Oh yeah, grrr . . . Karl smash!!! So here I am, all poised to have myself a smashing good time. But, like most things that happen to me in the ongoing inside joke that is my life, a wrench has to be thrown in to make things peachy keen. A day before New Year's Eve I get sick. This was a bizarre cold/flu strain for me. Usually I cough alot and so hard that I keel over in pain whilst I am congested up the ying-yang. However, at the time I felt especially miserable, dizzy, groggy, and sore all over, even more-so in my joints. Did I let this stop me? To quote the great bard, "Oh hellz no!!!" So off I went to DSBH Central, the site of "Smashy's Revenge", McKinley Manor. I would spend the evening self medicating myself on Extra Strength Neo-Citron, Buckley's Original Mix, and alcohol. To the very least I was comfortably numb. Who knew you could make an alcoholic drink with orange Gatorade powder? And who knew it would make these drinks taste like jello shots? Just to warn those attempting to experiment with powdered Gatorade, if you add soda it will fizz like a mofo, so beware. And so this continued until 11:00pm. At the stroke of 11pm we marched into the backyard. This year's treasures consisted of ceramic sculptures a plenty, a VCR, a ghetto blaster, a microwave, and the grand prize a TV. In regards of weaponry, we had a golf club (either a driver or wedge, I dunno), a crowbar, and an axe that doubled as a sledge hammer, possessed a gripped handle, and was named "The Maddox". You know, there is nothing more invigorating than wielding an axe on enough medicine and alcohol to sanitize a used toilet. And then I did the ether and it was all downhill. Oops, that was a movie. So I swung. And swung. And swung some more. They just kept staring at me. Staring. Goading me. I had to make them stop. Bloody . . . uhm . . . inanimate objects . . . yeah that's it . . . "inanimate objects". I smashed 'em good with "The Maddox" and then I gave it an elbow drop Macho Man style. Oh yeah.
The smashing was everything I thought it would be and more. If it weren't for the inclement weather there would have been even more in attendance. But it was still a magical experience for me. There is discussion of moving the fourth installment of "Drinky Drinky Smashy Smashy" to a larger venue to encompass the increasing popularity of the event. Sure, my immediate family that shares the same last name with me sold me out New Year's Day, but, I've come to not expect anything less from them. That just makes things interesting right?
End Transmission.
Wow back in school. All I do is wait for graduation in May. Until then I fill my time with HSA, AUS, French Club, DSBH Soccer, and now an AMS campaign. At least I don't have to worry about pesky exams or research papers. I could take a really cool class or something, but, I would rather not spend on another class and the subsequent books that said class would require. Anyway, on with the show, eh.
As I've mentioned before, my friends and have a New Year's tradition we dub "Drinky Drinky Smashy Smashy". Pretty self-explanatory. We drink and then we smash. This is I believe the third installment of the "Drinky Drinky Smashy Smashy" saga, also known as "Smashy's Revenge". Although, I attend these outings, this year was the first time that I was able participate in the smashing. In previous years I always arrived late, well after the smashing and midnight, because I was at work in a restaurant in the ghetto part of Gastown dressed as a monk. Due to this predicament, I would arrive and try to play catch-up as I would listen to them describe the carnage that I missed out on. Last year I found memorable because I arrived with my dinner from McDonald's, and to my astonishment everyone had glassy eyes and were some how very very hungry. So within 5 minutes of me leaving the McDonald's Drive-Thru on Marine, I was back talking to the same lady except this time armed with over 10 orders written on a scrap piece of paper so I could keep track of them all.
Oh my I've already digressed with back story to "Drinky Drinky Smashy Smashy". So where was I? Oh yeah, grrr . . . Karl smash!!! So here I am, all poised to have myself a smashing good time. But, like most things that happen to me in the ongoing inside joke that is my life, a wrench has to be thrown in to make things peachy keen. A day before New Year's Eve I get sick. This was a bizarre cold/flu strain for me. Usually I cough alot and so hard that I keel over in pain whilst I am congested up the ying-yang. However, at the time I felt especially miserable, dizzy, groggy, and sore all over, even more-so in my joints. Did I let this stop me? To quote the great bard, "Oh hellz no!!!" So off I went to DSBH Central, the site of "Smashy's Revenge", McKinley Manor. I would spend the evening self medicating myself on Extra Strength Neo-Citron, Buckley's Original Mix, and alcohol. To the very least I was comfortably numb. Who knew you could make an alcoholic drink with orange Gatorade powder? And who knew it would make these drinks taste like jello shots? Just to warn those attempting to experiment with powdered Gatorade, if you add soda it will fizz like a mofo, so beware. And so this continued until 11:00pm. At the stroke of 11pm we marched into the backyard. This year's treasures consisted of ceramic sculptures a plenty, a VCR, a ghetto blaster, a microwave, and the grand prize a TV. In regards of weaponry, we had a golf club (either a driver or wedge, I dunno), a crowbar, and an axe that doubled as a sledge hammer, possessed a gripped handle, and was named "The Maddox". You know, there is nothing more invigorating than wielding an axe on enough medicine and alcohol to sanitize a used toilet. And then I did the ether and it was all downhill. Oops, that was a movie. So I swung. And swung. And swung some more. They just kept staring at me. Staring. Goading me. I had to make them stop. Bloody . . . uhm . . . inanimate objects . . . yeah that's it . . . "inanimate objects". I smashed 'em good with "The Maddox" and then I gave it an elbow drop Macho Man style. Oh yeah.
The smashing was everything I thought it would be and more. If it weren't for the inclement weather there would have been even more in attendance. But it was still a magical experience for me. There is discussion of moving the fourth installment of "Drinky Drinky Smashy Smashy" to a larger venue to encompass the increasing popularity of the event. Sure, my immediate family that shares the same last name with me sold me out New Year's Day, but, I've come to not expect anything less from them. That just makes things interesting right?
End Transmission.
posted by Shockah Karl at 3:06 a.m.
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