Operation American Eagle - NOV 8TH! (I don't know about you, but I sure am nervous)

I have officially become a living Law School exam question. That’s right, numerous friends (and by numerous, I mean 2) who are currently in Immigration Law this semester have approached me with possible solutions to Theresa’s immigration woes, and I hate to say it, but both of the students were unequivocally incorrect, which means, of course, that I would give them each a B+. (I do not wish to show any disrespect to the people who tried to help me out, for I appreciate their concern and fully understand that they are not finished the class and did not know all of the facts of my case, but I just couldn’t resist making a joke about how completely incorrect answers on Law School exams would get a B+). But anyway, although my wife’s predicament has, without contest, occupied the majority of my mental activity and my days of loneliness outweigh the enjoyable experiences that fill these pages, I have yet to actually write a full post about our struggles because, since I have long since grown out of the phase where middle-class teenagers who have never experienced real hardship believe their immature whines are legitimate forms of communication, I refuse to dwell on the negative. Accordingly, the fact that I have decided to write an immigration post today means there is actually something positive to say. So, since so many of you have offered your support and are curious to know about my wife’s current situation, here is a quick rundown:

Theresa is applying for an immigration visa, and because she is married to an American, the process is fairly quick and straightforward. Unfortunately, in immigration terms quick means a number of months instead of a number of years. We have all the paperwork finished and now merely have to wait for the consulate to schedule an interview, immediately after which, Theresa will be issued her visa and become a permanent resident. The interview will probably take place in December or January.

In the meantime, because she has an immigrant visa pending, Theresa is a “potential immigrant,” and cannot enter the States unless she can prove that she will return to Canada. Well, we tried crossing already, and were turned around for various reasons. Well, after numerous meetings with UVa’s office of international students, we have come up with a plan in which Theresa will attempt to enter the United States again. I have labeled this mission, “Operation: American Eagle,” partly because Theresa will fly into this country like the bird that is its national symbol, but mostly because her at least 90% clothing will, like any other day, almost certainly have come from American Eagle (yes there are American Eagle stores in Canada). Now don’t get me wrong, even though the code name may suggest otherwise, there is nothing illegal about the operation: we have merely carefully calculated the most favorable set of circumstances and arguments that will give Theresa the highest chance of making it across the line. We have even talked to the border she will go to, and they claim we have a convincing case. However, there is always a chance they will deny her entry anyway.

The Bottem Line: Theresa has a flight on Wed, Nov. 8, and there is a good, but not perfect, chance that she will be able to cross into this country and wait here until she gets her interview. Needless to say, I will not be able to breathe from the moment I wake up on that day until I receive word that everything went according to plan.

Wish us luck.

I’m sorry if this post was boring, I promise I’ll be back to my own self next time.

My Pre-Pre-Post

Ah Halloween, or, as at least one politically correct elementary school labels it, “storybook dress-up day,” the mother of all non-holidays, although that title was only awarded after it narrowly beat out Valentines Day in the swimsuit competition. I remember the days when Halloween meant dressing up in your costumes that had to be altered in order to fit over your snowsuit, and watching Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” on the CBC (Canadian Broadcast Co.) But times have changed from those carefree days, and for us here at UVa, Halloween seems to be an excuse for students to dress up in as little clothes as possible (girls and, unfortunately, guys), and my musical tastes are now more in line with the ensemble of Indie rock stars, who last year put out a hilarious and catchy song, “Do They Know it’s Halloween?” which I invite you to check out here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgux6aGzb3k

As you could probably imagine, Section J did not spend Halloween weekend sitting alone in their homes, preparing outlines or catching up on missed torts readings. No, no, on Saturday the majority of my class went to not only the Halloween Party and the Pre-party, but also initiated their own Pre-pre-party. All this partying means, though, that I am far to tired to actually write out a bunch of sentences and paragraphs, so today’s entry will list in point form some highlights of the evening:

Captain Planet- was the theme of my, as well as a group of my section-mates costumes. Coach Q was the captain and I was heart, even though, as Theresa so eloquently put it when I told her, “He’s the gayest one.”

Jeff M. & Jeff S.-were the winners of section J’s Beer Pong tourney, narrowly preventing the title from going to a team who included an outside ringer.

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Iranian dictator- was my Beer pong teammate, and was creatively able to transform the normal cursing that accompanies beer pong like chewing tobacco accompanies Major League baseball into threats against Israel’s “Zionist Crusaders.” We made it to the semi-finals, mostly because I was able to aim the ball and Ahmadinejad was able to drink for two without even slurring his racial insults.

Green Shirt- wins my vote for best costume. Now, I don’t even remember what his costume was, but I consider it the best merely because he chose it over the speedo he wore last year.

The Guy in the Skeleton Costume- had the creepiest costume, not so much because his skeleton was very frightening, but because his persistant offer “Hey, do you want any candy,” was eerily similar to our lessons in elementary school about how to avoid pedophiles.

The Hosts of the Pre-party- laid out a fine selection of treats, which was a welcome alternative to skeleton guy’s offerings.

Tommy Train- was officially the first person to claim I was “robbing the cradle,” which refers to the fact that I married a 19 year-old girl who is more than four years my junior, and not at all referring to my habit of breaking into people’s homes and kidnapping their young children so I can train them to become an army of amazing tennis superstars.

Vikas- was officially the first person to claim that I “could probably [sleep with] at least 10 girls tonight” (edited for content).

Some guys from Section C-tried to get me to chug the contents of some large, glass bottle. Just in case anyone who reads this doesn’t know yet: I DON’T DRINK! This is because, as I have discovered some people still do not know, I am LDS.

Charlottesville 1st ward (LDS congregation)- put on a great, yet paradoxical non-trunk “trunk-or-treat” and chili cook-off on Friday, even though the rain ruined the original plan.

Section J- put on a great, and only slightly parodoxical, bowling activity for the kids Saturday morning after their original idea of baseball was ditched because not a single child participated in the original event

That kid who, instead of bowling normally, ran up to the pins and knocked them all over with his hands- was able to successfully execute the strategy that got me banned from my bowling league last year.

Well, that's all that I want to write at this time. All and all, a killer Halloween, complete with a tonne of candy, which I did not get from trick-or-treating, trunk-or-treating, and especially not from skeleton guy, but from, after carefully looking in both directions, stuffing handfulls of the pre-party's goodies into my pockets (hey, if everyone else gets to poision themselves with alchohol, at least let me do it with suger and saturated fat).

Untill next year...

Thumbs Up!

Because of my tendency to take whatever side of an issue that serves my fancy, I am a perennial flip-flopper, and therefore fear that, because of slanderous advising of my future opponent, I will not ever obtain my life-long goal of one day becoming the president of the United States and using my power to 1. Make sure that the Canadian wives of American students are able to enter the country freely, 2. Converting the country to the metric system, 3. Instigating a $1 coin so that you can actually use money in vending machines without having your bill rejected at least seven times, and 4. Ending poverty and instigating world peace under a Platonic global oligarchy with myself as the Sovereign-for-Eternity, and the rest of the philosopher kings definatly not including all those stuffy Ivy-leaguers who think that they are the smartest people in the country, when really they were only accepted because their daddy donated a new wing to the library, and ultimately just end up reducing the quality of education for all of those people who made it through their own hard work and intelligence. (And, of course, I am confident that any Ivy-leaguer reading this belong to that hard work/intelligence category).

But I digress. What I am really trying to say that I have completely reversed my opinion of the Virginia Law Weekly and now believe that, not only are they justified in displaying our university’s founder on their cover, but have also earned the coveted “Most Perfect Collection of Words to Ever be Recorded in the History of Language” award, instigated by your own future-sovereign-for-eternity. In fact, I think instead of the Law Weekly displaying a picture of Jefferson on their cover, Jefferson should display a replica of our newspaper on his tombstone. Why such a change of heart? Well, the following was printed in this week’s edition:

For any of you who are not content with simply being force-fed
whatever news Big-Media deems appropriate, Here is a chance to fight
the power and participate in what has been given the slightly
communist-like title of "citizens media" by reading one student's
blog response to an undeserved "thumbs down" from last weeks ANG at
http://www.randyatuva.blogspot.com

Yes, I’m sure you expert linguists have already figured out that this sounds an awfully lot like something I would write and I admit it now: I did write it, but only at the Virginia Law Weekly’s invitation.

They also had this to say:

Thumbs up to Professor Hynes for instigating, then mediating, a bet between dueling sections C and J over which team would win a softball game. And thumbs up to Section J for winning, then getting to decide the on-call order for Section C. Next week, you all should have a rematch with each team's Magic: The Gathering collection at stake.

Is it just me, or does this law school seem to have an obsession with Magic: The Gathering. I think they should all just quit thier over-compensating, come out of the closet and set up an official leauge. And, in case anyone is counting, that is Section J's 3rd thumbs up in two months.

Check out the Newspapers website

www.lawweekly.org

I'll Take Whatever 15 Minutes I Gan Get

I am seriously starting to think that the Jefferson portrait on the front of the Virginia Law Weekly should be replaced with a picture of… umm… oh, some old American president that everyone hated, especially if the president was known for publishing newspapers that used rash judgments as the basis for uniformed, mundane and uncreative statements about the activities of law students. Why such a condemning opening statement? Mostly for fun really, because, although I single-handedly (yet anonymously) received a thumbs down form “Around North Grounds,” which may seem enough of an insult to merit a strongly worded blog entry, I am actually happy to have been considered important enough to warrant a published rebuke from a bunch of editors I’ve never met and will wear that thumbs down as a badge of honor. Maybe next time I'll actually get a thumbs up--perhaps for somthing like "best blog ever"--and finally earn the fame and adoration that will surely come from being complemented by such a prestigious publication. However, even though I have made peace with my thumbs down, I do feel the need for a little clarification.

My first in which may turn out to be a great many ANG thumbs down reads: “Thumbs down to people who bring casebooks to football tailgates. You can’t learn how to enjoy life.” It is referring to the time when I… well, brought a casebook to a football tailgate. On the surface, this does seem like a pretty nerdy thing to do, and as such would be completely against my nature, but the truth of the matter is that I was actually just walking past the tailgate on my way to the Law School in order to study for my Monday Civ Pro midterm that I had not reviewed for earlier because I was too busy actually enjoying life with Theresa during fall break, when the guest of the aforementioned party called me over to join them, and subsequently pointed out that bringing a casebook to a tailgate was unqualifiably lame. Well, the only reason I actually consented to attending the party was because it was lunchtime ant I was lured to by the prospect of free barbeque, which, much to my dismay, was conspicuously absent and made the tailgate much less of a party and more of a group of guys standing around at noon and killing their brain-cells. So, without even breaking my stride, I walked around the house and promptly snuck through a hedge and continued on my way to the library, casebook in hand.

Just to re-iterate, I actually hold no ill will towards Virginia Law Weekly, and I wrote this post mostly because I probably get as much enjoyment from arguing in convoluted prose about silly little issues that really do not mean anything to anyone as much as Saturday’s tailgaters get from standing around with red and blue plastic cups in their hands. Why do you think I want to be a lawyer?

Not Another Softball Post

I’m sorry, but since Theresa’s many attempts to sneak across the American boarders, including an ingenious plan involving a George Bush mask and a hot air balloon, have failed miserably and I am forced to continue here in Virginia as an unwilling bachelor, softball is one of the few things I have here that gives any meaning to my life (no, I haven’t forgotten about that pesky little law school thing I have to go to, but, as everyone here already knows, class is a much lesser priority than the North Grounds Softball League). Also, there would be absolutely no excuse not to post tonight, as we just finished our most important game of the season. That’s right, even if the Migra had finally tracked caught up to Theresa’s balloon and I had to rush off to Saskatchewan to plead her case in front of a tribunal of Mounties, I would have written this post on the plane. You may now be wondering, what made this particular game so important to merit such an immediate response? Well, simply put, it was the long-awaited meeting of Section J’s “Juiced” and Section C’s “Carnations,” and ever since an alleged Section J remark about C’s inescapable tendency of effectively wasting the majority of our joint contracts class with inane comments and irrelevant questions, which, as section J lore goes, actually did not happen, (although it might well could have considering the accuracy of the remark), the Sections have been the most bitter of rivals. Also, if the first meeting of long-time enemies is not enough to merit “greatest game ever” status, Professor Hynes increased the stakes by mediating a wager where the losing team gets to select the cold-call list for tomorrow’s class, which would only really make a difference if C won, because if we created a list that excluded all of J and only C spoke next class, I don’t think I would be able to tell the difference. All I’m trying to say here is that it was a big game.

So who won? Well, get ready to dodge some flying scrabble tiles because we might have a section of sore losers on our hands. Except of course, since Section C would be doing the throwing, their weapons would more likely be “My little Ponies,” than scrabble tiles—I don’t really know how you could lose at “My Little Ponies,” but if anyone could do it, our pals in Section C could. Oh, and to complete my retraction of this paragraph’s opening phrase, I guess you wouldn’t really need to dodge anything, because, as Section C so effectively established on the diamond today, their throwing skills are such that I would be reasonably confident that no-one near the tantrum would be at any sort of risk of being hit.

Am I being too hard on Section C? Well. after today reading the second of C’s resident blogger’s entries that include both “Section J” and “Sucks” it their titles, I have concluded that it isn’t. Anyway, here is the official game write-up, penned by J’s Bill (used without permission):

Section J: 9
Section C: 4

In what was a foregone conclusion, Section J defeated their arch-rivals Section C nine to four on the muddied field of Copley today. I don't want to play up how big a showdown this game was because then people might actually think Section C had a chance. But it was one of the biggest games of the year. Section J and C's contracts professor was there. He brought snacks and a deal that the winner could pick who in the other section would be called on next class. Best contracts professor ever.

Let's get this out of the way first. The Carnations? Are you kidding me? A pink carnation is either a symbol of a mother's undying love or what a bad prom date buys his soon to be ex-girlfriend.

Some highlights:

Section J had even stronger support than our usual…strong support. First, our amazing PAs. All five were there, with three of the five actually making the sacrifice of missing class. They even brought pizza and beer. So big thumbs ups to them for that. We even had 4 significant others in attendance. For the record, I don't think any of Section C's PAs were there. Although I actually give them credit for that: I wouldn't want to hang out with that section either if I didn't absolutely have to.

Section C threatened a couple of times. Both times "The Bull" came up to bat. Let's just say he had one batting glove for each strikeout.

The game was mostly won and lost on fielding. Two players really just sum up each team's efforts. For Section C, their first baseman with the ridiculously short shorts. I'm sure you've seen him around the law school. No other male wears running shorts that short. After a routine grounder to the pitcher the ball was a bit off target. Let's just say his balls almost fell out of his daisy dukes while demonstrating the stretching ability of an 11 year old girl. The fact that they didn't, actually calls into question their existence. For Section J, Mike in the outfield. He single handedly was responsible for the last two outs of the game. The first time with an amazing dive and roll snowcone of a catch. The second time charging in for a ball that popped over the infield, picking it up, and flipping the ball to the second baseman in mid dive for the last out.

For the record, after winning 6 to 4 at the end of 5 innings, the umpire gave Section J the chance to end the game since an hour had elapsed. We immediately turned it down because we wanted another inning to run up the score. We also didn't want to give C an excuse.

Professor Hynes' Grammer Club

Judging from his criticism about how the case we read today mis-numbered some of its points, I think it would be clear that he is one of thoe people who I mentioned in my Oct 13th post. You know, "one of those cynical people who spend their days writing angry letters to magazines for silly little misprints." In fact, I have it on good authority that Prof. Hynes is the President of the William and Mary Law School Grammer Club. I think I might have to transfer next year...

For those of you keeping track, this is officially the first post that I actually wrote while in class. Which class you ask. Civ Pro of course

Moderately Down?!

So, I just took the "Indie Scene Quiz" on CNN.com to find out how "indie" I was, despite the fact that, as one of the largest news companies on the planet, CNN would seem to the casual observer to not be the best place to learn about a movement that is commited to avoiding anything mainstream. Turns out, because I scored 5/10 I am "Moderatly Down," mostly, I think, because I do not consider The Clash to be the only band that ever really mattered, or it might be because dispite all of my best efforts, I cannot seem to shake my embarrassing habit of listening to Dashboard Confessional, even though it is probally Pitchfork's most hated band, and really shouldnt be of any interest to anyone over the age of 17 (even my 20 year-old wife has grown out of them). In order to improve my Hipster Rating, I have decided to cunsult with Dean Jefferies, who, as demonstrated by his astute criticicm of The Dave Matthew's Band, seems to have his ear on the pulse of the new music scene. In any case, I definatly should stop studying right now for my Civ Pro midterm and start making an outline of Pitchfork Media.

Proof that I cant find anything new to write about

As much as I would think that a publication that prominently displays a portrait of Thomas Jefferson on its front page would be a pinnacle of journalistic integrity, I have a few complaints about the Virginia Law Weekly’s coverage of the 1L softball tourney.

First of all, Around North grounds gave a thumbs up for section J’s beer pong exploits at on the field, and although it is well established that J’s talents are much more pronounced when it comes to throwing a ping-pong ball in order to drink oneself blatto as opposed to throwing a softball in order to make an out (especially when the latter is done after the former), I find it inaccurate to claim that our exploits made us the “(im)moral victors of the tourney, if not the best team,” when some un-named members of section J are really very moral and upstanding citizens who play beer pong purely for the sport of it—also, Section J was the best team out there.

Second complaint is concerning the article on the back page that reads: “The next game featured the crowd favorite and lovable underdog L.L.M. team against Section J, a team comprised entirely of American Bullys.” Well, it should be quite obvious to anyone reading this blog that Section J also includes at least one Canadian Bully. Also, I find it inaccurate to call the LLM team a crowd favorite when it was quite apparent that there wasn’t actually a crowd at the 9:00AM game, but we’ll let this one slide because the LLMs were a lovable team, and because there is nothing worse than one of those cynical people who spend their days writing angry letters to magazines for silly little misprints because they want to be the star at next weeks meeting of their grammar club (which, by the way is conspicuously lacking here at UVa Law; I mean, how am I supposed to respect an educational institution that doesn’t support at least one organization designed to extol the glories of prepositional phrases and almost unlimited use of my all-time favorite punctuation mark—the dash).

Happy Thanksgiving Folks

Yes, it is thanksgiving time up in the north country, and I would just like to express what I am most thankful for on this fine holiday. I am, of course thankful for my lovely and adoring wife, Theresa. Thats it, I'm sorry but your not going to get one of my almost tiring sentences that are amusing at first, but just seem to ramble on forever without much point or substance whatsoever, not unlike a Mars Volta song, but I felt that i might, on this occation, perhap take the time to actually express my feelings without sarcasm, because, and its a little known fact, Randal Miller is able to make a sencere declaration of love once and a while. In fact, Thanksgiving may be my new holiday, since it is giving me the chance to see Theresa after six long weeks. Needless to say I am more excited than a schoolgirl in a candy shop full of stuninly attractive and agreeable schoolboys (much like the guys of section J).

At least it's entertaining

One of the Judges who were with the Federal Circuit, which was sitting at UVa today asked this about blogs: "can we derive from this database anything meaningful?" The answer, if this humble publication is any indication, is a resounding no.

Champions in our Eyes

QUESTION PRESENTED:

Can a section of about 30 young, fun loving and surprisingly attractive first year law students ever have a chance of winning the 1L Softball tournament when their priorities are more centered on having the kind of fun that often comes in twelve-packs than fielding an skilled team?

SHORT ANSWER:

No. Winning is not fun. Oh sure, it is an enjoyable experience, but it is more akin to the satisfaction that Alexander the Great must have felt after he conquered yet another barbarian horde than the ideal sensation of fun that can probably best be envisioned by referring to that feeling you get as a child when you are finally tall enough to go on that big roller-coaster for the first time—you know, the one with the six loop-de-loops that made you older sister vomit when she first rode it last year. So, in order to win the 1L tournament, you better be willing to trade in your fun for a lot of yelling, intense determination and the ability to callously exclude your section-mates without regret.

SUMMARY OF THE FACTS:

Section J, which is apparently known as “the fun section” by the friends of our peer advisors, woke up after a late night of debauchery at J&J’s B-day bash to the soft sound of birds chirping and the smell of Bodo’s Bagels, (which were quite delicious for the first 3/4, but couldn’t hold my interest long enough to actually finish that last bite), on the slightly overcast morning of Sept. 30 for the annual 1L softball tourney. Our first match against the international LLM squad was over quickly, with section juiced immerging victorious because we were able to hit at least one or two balls over the gold-glove wielded by the LLM’s superstar pitcher to the not-so-superstar remainder of the team. Our second game was not quite as successful, and, despite some amazing plays, such as Wheels’ lead-off homer and Luke’s center-to-home throw-out, the mighty Juiced was humbled by the smaller and less-inebriated (or should I say ‘blatto’) Section K, who ultimately went on to win the fame and universal adoration that comes with a 1L Softball championship.

DISSCUSSION:

When some pathetic losers are defeated, they will wine and throw their scrabble tiles across the room and then, after the quick argument about how the Q is missing that is ultimately resolved when the lost tile is found beside the deck of Magic cards, the loser, much to the annoyance of everyone else, feels the need to explain the unique circumstances that lead to his unlikely loss. I would like to now exercise this right. Section J never really had a chance of becoming 1L champions, partially because the other teams were simply much better than us, but mostly because we held a firm conviction that more fun can be had off of the diamond than on. And because section J’s idea of fun, much like the roller-coaster kid’s, often induces vomiting, we didn’t have much hope of beating any section that has not previously drunk an entire keg between them. I would also like to point out that, unlike most other teams that made the weaker half of their section sit on the bench, section J fielded an impressive 27 players (85% of the section), without regard to their softball prowess. Although this meant that our team could not compete with the teams that only let their best players onto the field, it allowed almost our entire section the chance to play be involved and feel the camaraderie that comes with being part of a team (now, doesn’t that just warm your heart). For the better teams, there was no full-section effort, there was also no blazing wing challenge, no beer pong, and their defiantly was no funnels right before (and after) enthusiastically stepping up to bat and sloppily striking out, and, dare I say, there was no fun? (Yes, I understand that it is very possible to have fun without alcohol, considering I have had an incredibly enjoyable life up to this point and would highly recommend at lease trying to have a good time without booze; I also understand that the winning team probably had a very fun day, but if I admitted that, my whole argument would just fall apart, now wouldn’t it?)

CONCLUSION:

So, congrats section juiced. As it was so eloquently put at the end of our slightly uncoordinated run for the championship, “you are all champions, I can see it in your eyes”

Oh, I could not end this post without giving a shout out to our good friends in Section C. Now there is a section that does not let their utter lack of fashion keep them from having fun. Of course, unlike Section J, their fun is a much more of a synchronized-skipping-short-shorts-and-pink-tank-top-wearing kind of fun, which I guess is fine if you’re the kind of people who think that naming their softball team “The Carnations” is a fabulous idea or if you are a trailer-trash 9 year-old girl who dreams of one day becoming a real princess—or at least the next Brittany Spears.

Nos vamos.

Beer Pong For the Masses

A very big, Virginia Law Weekly-type thumbs up to Prof. Armacost for, in a way that almost suggests a supernatural ability to read Dean Jefferies mind, decided to cancel Torts class on the exact same days this week that Crim was also cancelled. (Perhaps we could somehow use Aracost’s Jefferies-mind-reading abilities to find out once and for all if the Dean does indeed have a large collection of jorts that he wears on the weekend and to UVa sporting events and social gatherings). Anyway, the dual class calculation practically gave section J a four-day weekend, with only one class on Thursday and Friday—and everyone knows that Civ Pro barely counts as a class as it is. I was about to write that us diligent students in Section J jumped on the opportunity to plan parties on two consecutive evenings, complete with kegs and so much other forms of alcohol that I even got a little tipsy from the smell alone, but this would be a bit misleading, for, as we all know, section J would have thrown the parties even if we did have class at 9:00 AM the next morning.

We called the first of these social gatherings a “section mixer,” and the second was labeled “J&J’s Birthday Party.” Now the later is quite a confusing title, because, although Section J called the event J&J’s birthday, neither of the Js in J&J was actually “J”—the Js in J&J were Josh and Jeff—not to be confused with J’s other Js: Jim, James, Joel, the other James and the other Jeff. But, it doesn’t really matter how confusing the names of our get-togethers are because it is no secret that, although the parties have different labels, they all involve pretty much the same thing: that thing being, of course, drinking oneself so silly that he/she starts to believe that making out with 3 different guys on the same night is a good idea (notice that I included the he with the she).

Our section mixer on Thursday was also this humble writer's official introduction to the wide world of Beer-Pong (which is really just another excuse for people to drink themselves so silly that they start to believe that making out with 4 different guys on the same night is a good idea). I, of course, had to call in a pinch-drinker, and would like to thank Vikas for graciously volunteering to drink for the both of us, and sincerely hope that, as a result, he did not drink himself silly enough to engage in the above-mentioned activities. For anyone who is uncultured enough to be unfamiliar with beer-pong, it is quite as simple game: two teams set up nine partially-filled cups at either end of a table, and the teams take turns trying to throw a ping-pong ball into their opponent’s cups, carnival style, only without those giant stuffed gorillas that everyone wants so much when they are at the midway, but which always seem to end up with a 25¢ sticker firmly attached to its right ear at the winner’s next garage sale. When an opponent’s ball lands in your cup, you drink its contents and remove it from play. Now, I suppose the winner is the team that eliminates all of their opponent’s cups, but the way I see it, the magic of beer pong is that the games are always so close that, by the end, each team has drunk at least 8 cups of beer, so, keeping in mind that the real objective is drinking oneself so silly..., no matter who eliminates the last cup, everybody wins! (or everybody looses, if you take their livers’ point of view). Needless to say, beer-pong is such an entertaining and challenging sport that I smell an Olympic exhibition in the near future. Now, if only someone would start bringing stuffed animals for the beer pong champions to our next mixer/party/social/bar review/kegger/fox field/dandelion/pot-luck/barbeque/softball tournament/Tuesday.

Hasta luego