School-Approved Mud Wrestling

Now, as far as school sanctioned events at DA, I have pretty low expectations. Not to say they were through the roof anywhere else, or that I haven't enjoyed previous events, but it's usually not the event itself that is the primary fun factor. Tonight, however, had me surprised, to say the least.

Late last week, a large brown piece of paper, reading "Grimy Slimy Sludge Night," appeared on the school bulletin board. Against my baser instincts, I let a friend from school sign me up. I thought to myself "You know? I could use some more grimy and slimy sludge in my life." So tonight, at 7:30, I showed up with a white t-shirt, jeans, and no belt (bad idea) at DA and was soon pronounced member of team "Stinky." At least I wasn't on "Vile," right?

The first activity was my 2nd least favorite, dubbed the egg blow. As appealing as that name was, I was reluctant to participate, but decided to take the plunge. With the aid of a raw egg and a bendy white tube, the task was to blow the egg into the opposing person's face, while they try the same to you. Unfortunately, all the egg-blowing exercises I've been training with at home were to no avail, and I got half a raw egg in the back of my throat. I don't even like cooked eggs. But, with the promise of mud-wrestling, I rinsed, spat, and trudged on.

Next had to be my favorite game of the evening. The student senate had constructed a 10' by 20' patch of pure mud at the back of the soccer field, with a tire in the middle. I assure you, it was tempting to not jump in right then and there, but I got my chance. Playing tug of war with another team, we won the majority of the rounds and moved onto find-the-fish. A variation on that game where each person on both teams is assigned a number and a number is called, then each with the a number from each team runs in and gets something and brings it back over their line (why no, there is not a more eloquent way to say that,) except with a raw fish. About halfway through, the head came off, which lead to one of the more bizarre conversations I've heard in a long time. Since one team got the head and one team got the body, the argument was what piece was better. The brain, or the majority of the body? It's a judgment call, but I'll let you decide.

Then came the next batch of trials. First off, the Poo....something. Chute, trench, pool, kazoo, I forget, but it was basically a military crawl, under benches, through a crevasse of a the most appalling mixture of matter I've ever crawled through. I don't know any specifics (not that I asked,) but olives, spaghetti, milk, and vinegar were mentioned, and multiple diapers were visible- for effect, I suppose. The stench of it will haunt me until the end of my days, and the entire team had to crawl through the 15 foot long abomination- twice. Never thought I'd roll around in a mud pit to cleanse myself. After that was the slip and slide (no explanation needed,) an egg throw, and a shot of some gross cup of something, we played a banana game. Sitting and using our feet, each team member passed a slightly-peeled banana down the line with their feet, and the last person had to peel one side with their muddy feet, then peel the rest and eat half of it. I must say, my team did a great job, and the banana was surprisingly tasty.

The finale took place back at the mud pit, with a line for each team, a place to get mud, and a bucket at the end of each team's lane. We nearly filled ours, but fell short and came in 2nd out of 8 overall. Not bad, I'd say. Walking home, barefoot, and plastered with mud, though, had to be one of the nights plentiful highlights.

And this is after 5 minutes of hosing down. At least a minute and a half were devoted to being able to read the letters. Yes, this was originally a white shirt.

All in all, a pretty awesome night.


-Will



"That's the second biggest slingshot I've ever seen, but I guess it'll have to do."

Birthday

It seems like, almost every gift-giving occasion, I ask for something preposterous. Not necessarily monetarily preposterous (but usually it is,) but always either impossible to find, or impossible to figure out, or whatever. The Wii, which my mom camped out at Target all night to get. The little white boxes have just now, two years later, started to be easy to find. Guitar Hero III, after looking for months was found by not only my mom and dad, by my grandparents as well. Then again, here in Africa, with the next iteration of Guitar Hero. This time, though, not only with a guitar, but with a drum set, a mic, and a guitar (all fake, of course.) So, they call some random pastor of a church in Colorado, have him pick it up miles away at the only store that has it, have him give it to the previous resident of our house, who was coming back. It had gotten to the point that I wondered what the limit was.

So, again, I pushed for something seemingly impossible. Tickets to the states for the summer. In every way, a ridiculous proposition. Where to stay, when to go, how to get there, the cost of airline tickets. All factors preventing me from my dream trip. Honestly, if I could go to anywhere in the world for the summer, and this might seem stupid, but I would choose Franklin, Massachusetts. And I am.

I opened my present (a bit early) and there it was. Flight schedules to and from Logan airport. In a way, I don't even think it's hit me. I mean, I know I'm going home for the summer, but it still seems like a dream. In just a few short months, I'll be in a place with green grass, root beer, central air conditioning, hardly any power outages, and fast food. Glorious, glorious fast food. I think it won't ever really hit me, actually, until about 2 days after I get back. So, Mom and Dad, I'd like to give you a both late and in-advance thank you. This one tops even Guitar Hero.

-Will


"If you're sweating while you're bowling, you're out of shape. And if you're out of shape and you're bowling, you're probably a professional bowler."