Message-ID: <19412003.1075856123203.JavaMail.evans@thyme> Date: Fri, 19 Jan 2001 03:38:00 -0800 (PST) From: sandra.brawner@enron.com To: kennethbrawner@msn.com Subject: Fw: A little funny for you Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-From: Sandra F Brawner X-To: kennethbrawner@msn.com X-cc: X-bcc: X-Folder: \Sandra_Brawner_Jun2001\Notes Folders\All documents X-Origin: Brawner-S X-FileName: sbrawne.nsf 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" on 01/19/2001 11:15:14 AM To: "Sandra F Brawner" , , , "lance jordan" , , "Chris Paul" , "Brian York" , "anrew o ertel" cc: Subject: Fw: A little funny for you ----- Original Message ----- From: To: 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!!!