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anna

The Rock 'n Roll Circus Is In Town

by anna at 07:02 PM on March 08, 2003

I noticed we had a logjam of entries here on Friday. Hence this rare weekend post.

I'm an alumnus of this junior college. At the time it was one of those stepping-stone schools you go to when your grades suck ass but your family is rich enough to afford the tuition. Not surprisingly, Ferrum attracted an eclectic assortment of characters.

My two year stint there was the most surreal period of my life. While I have no dating nightmares to compare with Eff's, I do recall one particularly heinous hook-up incident. I awoke alongside a scraggly looking coed whom I'd met in a ditch behind the local bar, Switch's. She looked like this only more ghostly pale and rail thin. As I'm coming to my senses I become aware of a sticky, warm substance permeating the sheets. It was blood. I'm thinking, what the hell is this? Did I kill someone last night? About that time she awoke and cajoled me into buying her tampons. Guys don't like to buy tampons before downing a cup of coffee.

When I returned in a snit, she was finishing up a shower surely reminiscent of that bloody scene in Psycho. My bathrobe lay crumpled and bloodied by the stall. So I hustle her out to the car, wondering what to do about the sheets. En route to her dorm, she starts gazing into my eyes and singing some sappy song about putting someone high on a pedestal. It was all I could do to keep from shoving her bedraggled ass out the car. Were there any irony in this sequence of events, 'twas lost on me. In fact, I'd forgotten all about this dreadful experience until I saw a piece of escavation equipment called a Ditch Witch recently.

That night at Switch's, some joker had distributed gelatin capsules filled with powderized peyote buttons. One of this drug's side-effects is the need to vomit profusely. Thus, you had a barful of barfing students hallucinating. Several arrests were made. I daresay jail isn't a conducive environment for a pleasurable psychedelic experience.

A week later the bartender there was found facedown in a sewage treatment pond with a diplomat's son. Both had been shot in the back of their heads. Local police accustomed to chasing down moonshiners had a field day interrogating students including myself. Seems I had forcibly ousted the drunken diplomat's son from my pad just days before his demise. Send lawyers, guns and money. Dad, get me out of this.

And I had the strangest roommates. We occupied a one-room efficiency behind the only local bistro. Rob had a girlfriend he called Lay It Down Sally. He'd share her with his buddies while Roger and I tried to sleep. I've never heard somebody so loud and demonstrative.

Roger's idea of an ideal pickup line was the ever-popular, "So, do you still have that picture of my dick and balls on your nightstand?" This went over about as well as his habit of punching people in the face for no apparent reason at parties.

Okay, so the joker was me. But I didn't kill anybody so far as I can recall.

comments (15)

"A joke is only funny until someone gets hurt...then it turns hillarious" just took on a new meaning

by Lucy at March 9, 2003 12:17 AM


Well Lucy, I am not quite sure how to take that. I do hope you got a chuckle out of it. And I will say this: Humor is very difficult to produce without a butt. Of the joke, I mean.

by Anna at March 9, 2003 8:51 AM


Well, do you still have it?

by Roger at March 9, 2003 10:52 AM


Believe me Anna, it's all good.

by Lucy at March 9, 2003 12:58 PM


I think I'll rent The Crying Game tonight.

by douchenation at March 9, 2003 1:45 PM


So what was the deal with the bartender and the diplomat's son?

by jean at March 10, 2003 12:31 AM


....... wait a sec, before I read this I always thought you were a woman. I mean there was no picture and "anna" c'mon.

by Dmoney at March 10, 2003 2:56 AM


Jean, the diplomat's son stole a large quantity of contraband from a local moonshiner/dealer. The bartender was simply in the wrong place/wrong time. DMoney, scroll down to my prior post.

by Anna at March 10, 2003 7:46 AM


i'm confused too. either way, that was pretty hideous. I can't believe you didn't bring it up before when i asked about bad dates. mine was just nuts, she didnt bleed all over my Hyundai.

by eff at March 10, 2003 11:17 AM


Yeah, someone played a joke on me once--made me look pretty stupid. So I chopped off his parents' heads and took a dump on his kitchen table--you should have seen the look on his face!

by douchenation at March 10, 2003 2:01 PM


Douche, you rock. Eff, as I noted in the post, I had willed this hideous affair from my mind until I spied the Ditch Witch. Which is how Roger and I always referred to this chick. He watched the whole thing from his bed that morning.

by Anna at March 10, 2003 6:22 PM


Ah... who knew that you could still get yourself offed by moonshiners these days?

by jean at March 10, 2003 11:31 PM


Okay Sybil, er, Roger, Anna... What the hell is wrong with you! You should've used cinder blocks to weight the bodies. Never, ever, let them float you amateur. I must admit though, BadSam really is living up to the Creator's vision. The overused "like a train wreck" simile for MG's wonderous site is only half true. Here, we actually get to view and poke at the bodies (only Lockheed goes further) of the sleeper cars.

by Joseph at March 11, 2003 9:48 AM


Joseph, to this day I don't know simile from metaphor from hyperbole. But I do know my pix is now switching back and forth between the two. It's very cool in a disconcerting way, like this site. Simile!

by Anna at March 11, 2003 6:12 PM


Yeah, Manna--that animated gif or whatever it's called is quite disturbing: at first you look like a murder victim wrapped in a sheet, then you look like the murderer who wrapped said body in the sheet. Ted Bundy would be freaked out by that picture.

by douchenation at March 12, 2003 3:09 PM