"Are The Filthy Five Dead Yet?"
What’s up Haters I’m back so how’s my dick taste? The most awesome Monday has just taken place in the 317. The few men who decided it was better (or just had already spent all their money on liquor and tree) to stay home and not go to Florida and avoid coming back with sun poisoning, three drinking tickets and two sexually transmitted diseases had the night of their lives. The hoodlums Kerr and Reggie made the trip up for 18 hours of intoxication and it was a memorable day and night that Alec doesn’t remember much of. Starting with the first L of the day, Kerr was saying non-sense and laughing at his own words while everyone else encouraged Reggie to throw basketballs as hard as he could at Kerr’s dome. After the second blunt a few of us ventured out for a nice sit down dinner like family, but Kerr got fuzzy and went silent for a few hours (thanks to Chet for providing a 5 hour energy shot for Kerr so he could get back in the game). We proceeded to grab 4 cases and head to The Frathouse. We arrived and began to party but had one dilemma – no chart topping B-Shags music to get us into focus. Most of us were confused and lost, in a completely new territory of not having music in the background to get silly to. That’s when PK made the second most clutch play of the night: he called DJ 7 5. The most clutch play of the night was that DJ 7 5 answered his phone, in the middle of doing some homework, heard that there were 4 cases, 8 dudes and lots of beer pong being played and said “Fuck these books, I live for The Frathouse. I’ll be there in 15.” When we all heard this, the mood brightened drastically but none of us knew what DJ 7 5 had in store for us.
Jon “DJ 7 5” Dawson came into The Frathouse with three speakers and a legitimate DJ board. The room got rowdy when they saw him, but then fell silent when they saw the gear. None of us had seen anything like this in The Frathouse, had there been bitties there DJ 7 5 may have gotten blown on the spot (kind of like him sexting a girl saying “Where are you girl? I need a BJ and I’m finishing on your face J”); and would have gotten many more after his performance on the beats. The night just got more special as Brock and Pat started running the table, refusing to lose. With Pat being abstinent from the alcohol, Brock was forced into drinking just about every cup, dishing out a few to the people that respected him enough to help him out. Reggie and I were shitty as fuck with our 1-2 record and knew we needed to bring a better performance to the table, planning out celebrations for each and any situation of us hitting a cup like we were motherfucking Ochocinco. The game was intense, Brock didn’t know his arm from his leg and PK had to quietly tell him where to aim when he shot because he was so drunk, but was somehow still knocking down shots like Reggie Miller against the Knicks. Mellencamp and I were facing another loss with two cups left, while Brock and Pat had just one left. That’s when Mr. Bombay whispered in Reggie’s ear “get ready to suck my dick bitch,” then proclaimed “Fuck all ya’ll haters” and bounced the ball into a cup and waved goodbye to the kings of the table. The rest of the night is a blur, the only image I remember is Wil and Alec making out behind the fridge (Wil spent the rest of the night with his shirt off, but no one knew that Alec had ripped it off his body, not Pickles drunkenly taking it off during baseball).
Waking up at 4 in the morning to help out a fellow lukie was one of the lower moments of my night, still drunk, driving, freezing, and muddy, the only thing I kept thinking/asking was “WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING DONUTS AT 4 IN THE MORNING BY YOURSELF??”
My mood was brightened the next day when pk informed me I would be attending the pacers game with him, dumbass (terrel), and DJ 7 5. Of course the pacers fucking suck, we all know it, but we still go for the delicious treats and Jeff Foster’s wife showing off her busty body 7 feet away and smiling every time she catches us perverts staring and trying to take pictures of her left boob. I should’ve known it was going to be a legendary night right from the start: as we pulled up to Conseco Fieldhouse we saw a group of about 50 teens holding all sorts of band instruments. I almost nutted in excitement. Being the basher that I don’t get the credit for, as well as, being known for bashing large groups of people, I stuck my head out the window, stared the teacher and 4 band geeks standing next to her down as hard as I could and right as we passed I screamed “PLAY THAT MUSIC NEERRRDSSSSS” with a middle finger in the teacher’s chin. The entire band stopped and stared, ready to cry that someone had said what their entire high school was whispering behind their backs. The actual game sucked and the obnoxious hicks who obviously have the worst lives ever considering being at a pacer game and seeing Boomer up close was better than waking up naked next to a 10 and immediately sparking the beautiful blunt she rolled the night before (it’s never happened, probably never will. I don’t care I need my dreams). But, we made it fun. While searching for ice cream, Dawson and I were persuaded into trying to get to the locker rooms by Terrel (what the fuck were we thinking listening to the fucking idiot who got stuck doing donuts by himself at 4 am?) 3 young teens walked by, of course JD says “whats up girls,” they giggle, I giggle because I feel like im 15 again, and Terrel giggles because he hopes he can get a number from one of them. We encounter them twice more, both times Dawson makes the same comment. While mealing on my cake batter ice cream the girls walk by once more (obviously skanks considering all they were doing was walking around in a circle again and again). Then the unimaginable happened. The girls came up and started talking to Dawson. Thank god I was facing the other way because I may have spat in the slut’s face for being such a slut. I walked away but reluctantly turned around knowing this shit would be priceless. The girls explained they were from Anderson (reason #2 for being nominated for sluts of the year), told JD he was cute (#3), and (#4 and most slutty) only thing they wanted to while at the game was get a guy’s number (I didn’t look but I’m pretty sure Terrel had a boner because he jumped out of his chair when he heard this). So Dawson, although telling the girls he and I were 20 and Terrel was 16 (which of course they believed although I think 2 questioned it and thought he was 12) gave him a number, fuck no it wasn’t his own, DJ 7 5 isn’t a pedophile (say what you want about my past, some say it’s questionable but does it look like I give a fuck what you think bitch? I had a blast.) But he’ll gladly hook Jack Dillon up with some slutty young girls. Terrel texted Jack, explained the situation and told him to get pictures of the hot girl. This just wasn’t your spring break Terrel - that’s the most fucked up thing I have ever seen someone do with pleasure and excitement. Later we were so inspired by the three cronies who jump on trampolines and dunk the ball at the end of third quarter that Dawson and I thought it was appropriate to let them know our feelings after they were done. Me and “Claws” got in a legit screaming match of “YOU’RE THE MAN!” “NO YOU’RE THE MAN!!” and then while they were giving out shirts to the Pacer faithful, Dawson said, “No fuck this, I don’t want your shirt. You take mine mothafucka!” And gave the shirt off his back to Claws, who proudly kept it on his shoulder for the rest of the night.
Another successful night at a Pacers game and sadly none of this is surprising shit to anyone that has accompanied the Kennedy’s to a game. In conclusion, I just want to soak in the genius that is known as Gordon Bombay from my previous post. Butler is still doing them, and yes Kansas lost. And for all the faggots on facebook who are so pissed off that Kansas lost because they had them winning the whole thing and ragging on NIU’s celebration I have two things to say to you. 1. Fuck yourself in the face, read the blog and you know better than to have Kansas doing any real damage in the tournament. 2. They just beat the number one OVERALL seed in the biggest tournament in the world.. no fucking shit they’re gonna go buck wild, if it was me I would’ve been buck ass naked running around throwing my shit all up in Kansas’s shit.
God Bless America and the 75 block, they’re the best. Dawson, PK, Dillon and Terrel: get your heads out of each others asses and get me a fucking 75 shirt. How the fuck does Jessie Keller, oops I mean Keaton, rep the 75 harder than me? C’mon guys.. Much love and appreciation to all the 0.0 faithful. Keep hatin.
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