I get bored during breaks from school. Basically, my breaks amount to me having nothing to do because my friends all love their families and therefore love spending time with their families. I do not have this luxury. My Thanksgiving break revolved around hanging out with Tanzmetall, watching the soft core porn episode of the Next Generation, and enjoying the cinematic masterpiece that is the Phantom Menace. That, and masturbating.
This was performed by Scotch ‘n’ Soda Theatre. It won me and Chicken Chow Fun a nice shiny “Best Original Play” award, but I think it was in large part thanks to the performances of the cast (which included two other Clunkliners) and work of the director. Underground Man got nominated for Best Male Lead for his role, which is pretty hard to do since this festival always takes place after the nomination period is basically over.
Technically, it also won “Best Post-show Music” but I don’t think that counts since they made the award up just to give it to us.
Hold the Elevator was written, rehearsed, and performed in the space of 24 hours.
I tagged it as a film because we don’t have a category for plays.
So for the last couple of months, I’ve had to share my room with another human being. Now, you may be wondering how that was. I’ll give you a hint: if it were great it would not be funny.
During my years I’ve discovered two important facts about urination:
1. Regular urination is the most important part of a healthy life.
2. Human urine is not an important component of underwear maintenance.
Gentlemen, I have finally completed my plan for the ultimate heist. Yes, that’s right, we’re going to steal all of the furniture from the White House. Yes… all of it. We’re going to be rich beyond our wildest dreams. Who wouldn’t want to buy President Taft’s extra large bath tub? Or the whiskey cabinet where Ulysses S. Grant poured himself a cold one? Or the mirror Nixon practiced all his lies in front of? Or the love seat where Thomas Jefferson fucked his slaves? Of course as the one who planned this caper I will have to claim the greatest prize: the bed where Grover Cleveland slept. I know we all wanted that one but I think it is only fair that I should be allowed to sleep in the same bed as my idol.
My otherwise perfect physical appearance is marred by a horrible deformity, so grotesque that I am shunned by members of polite society. Yes, I speak of my third nipple.
What is the essence of ballness? To understand these questions let us imagine the perfect ball. What color is your perfect ball? Is it red? It had better be.
I’m getting ready to start a lab when I realize that I don’t have any ethanol to wipe down my lab bench with. I am now faced with a choice: I can borrow ethanol from the guy to my left or the attractive girl behind me.
Tough choice. The first option is definitely safer. I wouldn’t have to worry about my voice cracking, my shoe laces suddenly being tied together or my pants spontaneously falling down as the universe’s way of getting even with me. At the same time I would not have the opportunity to begin a dialogue with the girl that I spend most of the lectures staring at.
Tough choice… tough choice. I could… tough choice. No wait… damn… tough choice.
I have an uncle. His name is Karl. His name is unimportant but I think it really says something about him. Karl. See what I mean. Anyway Karl’s job title is contractor. However, Karl’s job is to do no actual work, complain about things and use my aunt to get prescription painkillers. Good for Karl. Now that we have gotten to know Karl, it’s story time.
Like many of you whose girlfriend has left them for another species, I often find myself comparing my penis to that of many animals. For those of you who have not had the opportunity to degrade yourself, I went to the Icelandic Phallological Museum, home of more than 245 preserved penises to learn about the wonders of the animal penis kingdom.