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KENNY -
JON SENT ME THIS TODAY - I THOUGHT IT WAS MORE OF A MANS JOKE- IT IS LONG BUT KINDA FUNNY ---------------------- Forwarded by Sandra F Brawner/HOU/ECT on 01/19/2001 11:26 AM --------------------------- "Jon Schnitzer" <jons@amerexenergy.com< on 01/19/2001 11:15:14 AM To: "Sandra F Brawner" <Sandra.F.Brawner@enron.com<, <robert.k.rodriguez@db.com<, <mhandler@natsource.com<, "lance jordan" <lcjo@dynegy.com<, <JSEGAUL44@aol.com<, "Chris Paul" <cpaul@dwintegrated.com<, "Brian York" <byork@dwintegrated.com<, "anrew o ertel" <aertel@evomarkets.com< cc: Subject: Fw: A little funny for you ----- Original Message ----- From: <diana.hollier@tpc-corp.com< To: <jons@amerexenergy.com< Sent: Friday, January 19, 2001 10:38 AM Subject: A little funny for you < < < -----Original Message----- < From: Gabriela Rehlinger [mailto:grehlinger@altra.com] < Sent: Thursday, January 18, 2001 4:04 PM < Subject: FW: this could be us... < < < Ok.. this cold have been written by some of you! < i laughed till my sides hurt... < < . < < < Fan on Game Day < < < < < < This is pretty long, but it's HYSTERICAL! If you've ever been drunk at a < < < sporting event, or been with someone who has, you can relate. This is an < < < e-mail from some guy named J.D.Horne, who, according to the messages < < that < < < were attached to this, is not a 21 year-old frat boy, but an attorney of < < < indeterminate age. He sent it to his friend Brian Brice and it got < < < forwarded around the country. You have to give the guy some props for < < < being self-deprecating...but I hope I never meet him on game day. < < < < < < A chronology of events for Saturday, December 4, 1999, and the early < < < morning hours of Sunday, December 5, 1999 < < < < < < 6:00 Arise, play the Eyes of Texas and Texas Fight at full-freaking < < blast < < < < < < 6:20 Get in car, drive to New Braunfels < < < < < < 7:30 Tee off (me and a buddy were the FIRST tee-time of the morning) < < < < < < 8:50 Turn 9 (crack open first beer) < < < < < < 8:53 Crack open second beer < < < < < < 8:58 Crack open...(you get the idea) < < < < < < 10:30 Finish 18 (holes, as well as beers), sign scorecard for smoooooth < < 95 < < < < < < 10:35 Headed for San Antonio (Alamodome - Nebraska vs Texas) < < < < < < 10:50 Buy three 18-packs for pre- and post-game festivities < < < < < < 11:10 We decide we don't have enough booze, so we double-back to a < < liquor < < < store and buy the good ol' 750 ml plastic bottle "Traveler" Jim Beam < < < < < < 11:50 Arrive at the tailgate spot. Awesome day. Not a single cloud in < < the < < < sky. About 70 degree < < < < < < 11:55 I decide that we're going to kick the shit out of Nebraska. < < < < < < 11:56 I tell my first Nebraska fan to go fuck himself. < < < < < < 12:15 The UT band walks by on the way to the Alamodome. We're on the < < < second floor of a two-story parking garage on the corner (a couple < < hundred < < < of us). We're hooting and hollering like wildmen. The band doubles back < < to < < < the street right below us and serenades us with Texas Fight and The Eyes < < < of Texas. AWESOME MOMENT < < < < < < 12:25 In the post-serenade serendipity, 50-100 grown men are bumping < < < chests with one another, each and every one of them now secure and < < certain < < < of the fact that we are going to kick the shit out of Nebraska. < < < < < < 1:00 The Nebraska band walks by on the way to the Alamodome. Again, we < < < hoot and holler like wildmen. Again, the band doubles back and stops < < right < < < below us to serenade us, this time, however, with the Nebraska fight < < < songs. Although somewhat impressed by their spirit and verve, we remain < < < convinced that we are going to kick the shit out of Nebraska. < < < < < < 1:30 I begin the walk to the Alamodome, somehow managing to stuff the < < < "Traveler" and 11 cans of beer into my pants. < < < < < < 1:47 I am in line surrounded by Nebraska fans. They are taunting me. I < < am < < < taunting back, still certain that we are going to kick the shit out of < < < Nebraska. I decide to challenge a particularly vocal Nebraska fan to < < play < < < what I now call and will forever be remembered as Cell-Phone Flop Out." < < < Remember flop out for a dollar? The rules are similar. I tell this < < < Nebraska jackass that if he's so confident in his team, he should "flop < < < out" his cell phone RIGHT NOW and make plane reservations to Phoenix for < < < the Fiesta Bowl. And then I spoke these memorable words: "And not those < < < damn refundable tickets, either! You request those non-refundable, < < < non-transferrable sons-of-bitches!" He backs down. He is unworthy. I < < call < < < Southwest Airlines and buy two tickets to Phoenix, non-refundable and < < < non-transferrable. Price: $712. He is humbled. He lowers his head in < < < shame. I raise my cell phone in triumph to the cheers of hundreds of < < Texas < < < fans. I am KING and these are my subjects. I distribute the 11 beers in < < my < < < pants to the cheering masses. I RULE the pre-game kingdom. < < < < < < 2:34 Kickoff. Brimming with confidence, I open the Traveler and pour my < < < first stiffy. < < < < < < 2:45 I notice something troubling: Nebraska is big. Nebraska is < < < fast.Nebraska is very pissed off at Texas. < < < < < < 3:01 The first quarter mercifully ends. 9 yards total offense for < < < Texas.Zero first downs for Texas. I'm still talking shit. I pour another < < < stiffy from the Traveler. < < < < < < 3:36 Four minutes to go in the first half: the Traveler is a dead < < soldier. < < < I buy my first $5 beer from the Alamodome merchants. While I am standing < < < in line, a center snap nearly decapitates Major Applewhite and rolls out < < < of the end zone. Safety. < < < < < < 3:56 Halftime score: Nebraska 15, Texas 0. I wish I had another < < Traveler. < < < < < < 4:11 While urinating next to a Nebraska fan in the bathroom at halftime, < < I < < < attempt to revive the classic Briceism from the South Bend bathroom: < < "Hey, < < < buddy, niiiiiiiiice cock." He is unamused. < < < < < < 4:21 I buy my 2nd and 3rd $5 beer from the Alamodome merchants. I share < < my < < < beer with two high school girls sitting behind me. Surprisingly, they < < are < < < equipped with a flask full of vodka. I send them off to purchase < < Sprites, < < < so that we may consume their vodka. I have not lost faith. Nebraska is a < < < bunch of pussies. < < < < < < 4:51 No more vodka. The girls sitting behind me have fled for their < < lives. < < < I purchase two more $5 beers from the Alamodome merchants. < < < < < < 5:18 Score is Nebraska 22, Texas 0. I am beginning to lose faith.This < < < normally would trouble me, but I am too drunk to see the football field. < < < < < < 5:27 I call Southwest Airlines: "I'm sorry, sir. Those tickets have been < < < confirmed and are non-refundable and non-transferrable." < < < < < < 5:37 I try to start a fight with every person behind the concession < < < counter. As it turns out, the Alamodome has a policy that no beer can be < < < sold when there is less than 10 minutes on the game clock. I am enraged < < by < < < this policy. I ask loudly: "Why the fuck didn't you announce last call < < < over the fucking PA system??!!" < < < < < < 5:49 Back in my seats, I am slumped in my chair in defeat. All of a < < < sudden, the Texas crowd goes absolutely nuts. "Whazzis?," I mutter, < < < awaking from my coma, "Iz we winnig? Did wez scort?" Alas, the answer is < < < no, we were not winning and we did not score. The largest (by far) cheer < < < of the day from the Texas faithful occurred when the handlers were < < walking < < < back to the tunnel and Bevo (the Texas mascot) stopped to take a < < < gargantuan shit all over the letters "S", "K",and "A" in the "Nebraska" < < < spelled out in their end zone. I cheer wildly. I pick up he empty < < Traveler < < < bottle and stick my tongue in it. I am thirsty. < < < < < < 6:16 Nebraska fans are going berserk as I walk back to the truck. I < < would < < < taunt them with some off-color remarks about their parentage, but I am < < too < < < drunk to form complete sentences. With my last cognitive thought of the < < < evening, I take solace in the fact that if we had not beaten them in < < < October, they would be playing Florida State for the national < < < championship. < < < < < < 6:30 Back in the car. On the way back to Austin for the basketball game. < < < < < < 8:00 Texas-Arizona tip off. We can still salvage the day! I crack open a < < < beer. It is warm. I don't care. < < < < < < 7:12 We have stopped for gas. I am hungry. I go inside the store.I walk < < < past the beer frig. I notice a Zima. I've never had a Zima. I wonder if < < < it's any good. I pull a Zima from the frig. I twist the top off and < < drink < < < the Zima in three swallows. Zima sucks. I replace the empty bottle in < < the < < < frig. < < < < < < 7:17 There is a Blimpie Subs in the store. I walk to where the < < ingredients < < < are, where the person usually makes the sub. There is no one there. I < < lean < < < over the counter and scoop out half a bucket of black olives. I eat < < them. < < < I am still hungry. I lean further over the counter and grab < < approximately < < < two pounds of Pastrami. I walk out of the store grunting and eating < < < Pastrami. The patrons in the store fear me. I don't care. < < < < < < 8:01 We are in South Austin. I have been drinking warm beer and singing < < < Brooks and Dunn tunes for over an hour. My truck-mate is tired of my < < < singing. He suggests that perhaps Brooks and Dunn have written other < < good < < < songs besides "You're Going to Miss Me When I'm Gone" and "Neon Moon" < < and < < < that maybe listening to only those two songs, ten times each was a bit < < < excessive. Perhaps, he suggests, Icould just let the CD play on its own. < < I < < < tell him to fuck off and restart "Neon Moon." < < < < < < 8:30 We arrive at the Erwin Center. My truckmate, against my loud and < < < profane protestations, parks on the top floor of a nearby parking < < garage. < < < I tell him he's an idiot. I tell him we will never get out. I tell him < < we < < < may as well pitch a fucking tent here. He ignores me. I think he's still < < < pissed about the Brooks and Dunn tunes. I whistle "Neon Moon" loudly. < < < < < < 8:47 I am rallying. I have 4 warm beers stuffed in my pants. We're going < < < to kick the shit out of Arizona. < < < < < < 9:11 Halftime score: Texas 31, Arizona 29. I am pleased. I go to the < < < bathroom to pee for the 67th time today. I giggle to myself because of < < the < < < new opportunity to do "the bathroom Brice." There are no Arizona fans in < < < the bathroom. I am disappointed. I tell myself (out loud) that I have a < < < "Niiiiiice cock." No one is amused but me. < < < < < < 9:41 I walk to the bathroom while drinking Bud Light out of a < < can.Needless < < < to say, they do not sell beer at the Erwin Center,much less Bud Light < < out < < < of a can. I am stopped by an usher: "Where did you get that, sir?" I < < tell < < < him (no shit): "Oh, the cheerleaders were throwing them up with those < < < little plastic footballs. Would you mind throwing this away < < < for me?" I take the last swig and hand it to him. He is confused. I < < < pretend I'm going to the bathroom, but I run away giggling instead. I < < duck < < < into some entrance to avoid the usher, who is now pursuing me. I sneak < < < into a large group of people and sit down. The usher walks by < < harmlessly. < < < I am giggling like a little girl. I crack open another can of Bud Light. < < < < < < 9:52 I am lost. In my haste to avoid the usher, I have lost my < < bearings.I < < < have no ticket stub. I cannot find my seats. Texas is losing. < < < < < < 10:09 Texas is being screwed by the refs. I am enraged. I have cleared < < out < < < the seats around me because I keep removing my hat and beating the < < < surrounding chairs with it. A concerned fan asks if I'm OK and perhaps I < < < shouldn't take it so seriously. I tell him to fuck off. < < < < < < 10:15 After the fourth consecutive "worst fucking call I have EVER < < seen," < < < I attempt to remove my hat again to begin beating inanimate objects. < < < However, on this occasion I miscalculate and I thumbnail myself in my < < left < < < eyelid, leaving a one-quarter inch gash over my eye. I am now bleeding < < < into my left eye and all over my shirt. "Perhaps," I think to myself, < < I'm < < < taking this a bit seriously." < < < < < < 10:22 I am standing in the bathroom peeing. I'm so drunk I am swaying < < and < < < grunting. I have a bloody napkin pressed on my left eye. My pants are < < < bloody. I have my (formerly) white shirt wrapped around my waist. I look < < < like I should be in an episode of Cops. < < < < < < 10:43 Texas has lost. I put my bloody white shirt back on my body and < < make < < < my way for the exits. I am stopped every 20 seconds by a good < < < samaritan/cop/security guard to ask me why I am covered in blood, but I < < < merely grunt incoherently and keep moving. < < < < < < 10:59 With my one good eye, I have located the parking garage. I walk up < < < six flights of stairs, promise that when I see my friend I will punch < < him < < < in the face for making me walk up six flights of stairs, find the truck, < < < and collapse in a heap in the bed of the truck. I look around and notice < < < that traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole < < flights, < < < and no one is moving. I take a nap. < < < < < < 11:17 I awake from my nap. I see my friend in the driver's seat. I lift < < my < < < head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that traffic is lined < < up < < < all the way around the garage, six whole flights, and no one is moving. < < I < < < am too tired to unch my friend. I call my friend a "Stupid cocksucker." < < < < < < 11:31 I lift my head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that < < < traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole flights, < < and < < < no one is moving. I call my friend a "Stupid cocksucker." < < < < < < 11:38 I lift my head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that < < < traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole flights, < < and < < < no one is moving. I call my friend a "Stupid cocksucker." < < < < < < 11:47 I lift my head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that < < < traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole flights, < < and < < < no one is moving. I call my friend a "Stupid cocksucker." < < < < < < 11:58 I am jostled. The truck is moving. I lift my head to look out the < < < bed of the truck and notice that traffic is beginning to move on the < < < second floor. I jump out of the truck, walk to the edge of the parking < < < facility, and pee off the sixth floor onto the street below. My friend < < < looks at me like I just anally violated his minor sister. I turn < < around < < < pee on the front of his truck while singing the lyrics to "Neon Moon." < < < < < < 12:11 We are moving. We are out of beer. I jump from the truck and go < < from < < < vehicle to vehicle until someone gives me two beers. I am happy.I return < < < to my vehicle. < < < < < < 12:26 We have emerged from the parking facility. We make our way to my < < < apartment and find Ed sitting on the couch with a freshly opened bottle < < of < < < Glenlivet on the coffee table in front of him. We are all going to die < < < tonight. < < < < < < 12:59 We have finished three-quarters of the bottle of Glenlivet. We < < < decide it would be a wonderful idea to go dancing at PollyEsther's. Ed < < has < < < to pee. He walks down the hall to our apartment and directly into the < < full < < < length mirror at the end of the hall,smashing it into hundreds of < < pieces. < < < We giggle uncontrollably and leave for PollyEsther's. < < < < < < 1:17 The PollyEsther's doorman laughs uncontrollably at our efforts to < < < enter his club. "Fellas," he says in between his fits of spastic < < < laughter,"I've been working this door for almost a year. I've been < < working < < < doors in this town for almost 5 years. And I can honestly say that I < < ain't < < < never seen three drunker mother fuckers than you three.Sorry, can't let < < < you in." We attempt to reason with him. He laughs harder. < < < < < < 1:44 We find a bar that lets us in. We take two steps in the door and < < hear < < < "Last call for alcohol!" I turn to the group and mutter: "See, dat < < wasn't < < < that fuckin' hard. Day don't fuckin' do that at the < < < Awamo...the<<awaom...the alab...fuck it, that stadium we was at < < today..." < < < We order 6shots of tequila and three beers. < < < < < < 2:15 Back on the street. We need food. We hail cab to take us the two < < and < < < one half blocks to Denny's. The cab fare is $1.60. We give him $10 and < < < tell him to keep it. < < < < < < 2:17 There is a 20 minute wait. We give the hostess $50. We are seated < < < immediately. < < < < < < 2:25 We order two orders of fried pickles, a Cobb salad, a bowl of soup, < < < two orders of Blueberry blintzes, two Reuben sandwiches, a hamburger, < < two < < < cheese stuffed potatoes, an order of fries, and an order of onion rings. < < < < < < 2:39 The food arrives. We are all asleep with our heads onthe table. The < < < waiter wakes us up. We eat every fucking bit of our food. Most of the < < < restaurant patrons around us are disgusted. We on't give a fuck. The tab < < < is $112 with tip. < < < < < < 2:46 I'm sleepy. < < < < < < 9:12 I wake up next to a strange woman. She is a waitress at Denny's. < < She < < < is not pretty. HOOK 'EM HORNS, BABY!!!
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