Message-ID: <9546316.1075852549928.JavaMail.evans@thyme> Date: Thu, 30 Aug 2001 10:56:20 -0700 (PDT) From: matthew.lenhart@enron.com To: jason.wolfe@enron.com Subject: FW: GAME DAY...could be one of the funniest emails ever. especial ly if you're a football fan or a southerner. Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-From: Lenhart, Matthew X-To: Wolfe, Jason X-cc: X-bcc: X-Folder: \JWOLFE (Non-Privileged)\08-saved X-Origin: Wolfe-J X-FileName: JWOLFE (Non-Privileged).pst -----Original Message----- From: "Marcantel MM (Mitch)" @ENRON [mailto:IMCEANOTES-+22Marcantel+20MM+20+28Mitch+29+22+20+3CMMMarcantel+40equiva+2Ecom+3E+40ENRON@ENRON.com] Sent: Thursday, August 30, 2001 8:45 AM To: Hull, Bryan; Landry, Chad; Lenhart, Matthew; 'Tim Blanchard (E-mail)'; 'Val Generes (E-mail)'; 'Kevin A Boone (E-mail)' Subject: FW: GAME DAY...could be one of the funniest emails ever. especial ly if you're a football fan or a southerner. > > > > >>This is pretty damn funny. > > > >> > > > >> > > > >>University of Texas 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 degrees. > > > >> > > > >>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. > > > >> > > > >>11:00 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. > > > 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-reundable, 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 Brice- ism 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 > bit > > > >>excessive. Perhaps, he suggests, Icould just let the CD play on its > own. > > > > > >>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 punch 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." > > > >> > > > >>2:11 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. > > 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 don'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!!! > > > >>