A long overdue post...
:: Funtastic 2007: What's the worst that could happen? ::
"This beer is so good, it's like God is jerking off in my mouth." - Bucholtz
"Take that atmosphere!" - Sean, burning some plastic in the fire.
"It was like professional packers packing for the Pro Packing Championships." - Scott, on how him and Buchs managed to cram all their stuff into the Explorer.
"You call it premature ejaculation. I call it a good night's sleep." - Chris
"In one word, he was the balls." - Scott, using more than one word to describe Sean's now-traditional Canada Day streaking.
"Thanks for making this not lame." - Firefighter, after Sean, Buchs, and Jason livened up the Canada Day fireworks.
"What time you flyin' out?" - Scott, to Rachel, when she walked past carrying her vintage '70s luggage.
Beer Garden doorman: Sorry buddy, I can't let you in without ID.
Guy: I don't have ID.
Doorman: Sorry, you aren't coming in.
Guy: But my girlfriend's in there.
Doorman: Look buddy, a lot of people's girlfriends are in there.
A quick recap, for those of you with short attention spans (Oh look - a blue car!!):
Got drunk. Again.
Failed to win a morning game. Again.
Argued with the stupid old campsite groundskeeper. Again.
Lost in the playoffs to a team full of steriod monkeys (I assume). Again.
Yep, in many ways, Funtastic '07 was carbon copy of Funtastic '06, except this time we upped the ante on the streaking, didn't get quite as loaded as last time, and we didn't put dishsoap in anybody's beer when they weren't looking (Where's Jeremy when you need him?).
Oh, and there were two big fucking storms.
We began our five-day extravaganza with some overcast, kinda rainy weather on Thursday evening. Then, once we were all set up, we were hit with one helluva thunderstorm - one of the biggest I can remember. Our campsite proceeded to get flooded out, with Sean and Rachel's tent getting the worst of it, to the point where everything - clothes, bedding, etc - were soaked right through, and they basically had to sleep in 2 inches of water.
That'll teach you to forget the fly to your tent, and replace it with a tarp with two big holes in it.
Everyone got soaked though, but thankfully for Chris and Jenna's vestibule, we still had a place to drink beer and play cards. The next morning things had cleared up slightly, but storm #2 still swung through town for a few hours in the middle of the day, which led to the following things:
1. The postponement our first game
2. The soaking of my tent, air mattress, sleeping bag, and one side of my pillow
3. A Bucholtz-in-his-boxers-and-nothing-else slip-and-slide moment with a tarp
4. The (stupidest) fight of a lifetime between Rachel and Sean
Now I know everyone's done talking about it, laughing about it, etc, but I have to harp on item #4 there for a moment, because I would be doing a disservice to bloggers everywhere if I did not accurately paint this picture for you, the reader.
Let's start with two drunk people - one moreso than the other. Let's add in a rainstorm, and some confusion. Then let's jump to two idiots, arguing not over something substantial, but instead absolutely nothing at all. At various points, they could be heard yelling to each other that neither knew what the fight was about, and at least 5 times (conservative estimate) the argument turned into a fight over the timeline of events - of who was doing what where. ("I was in the tent at 9:03!!!" "No, it was 9:15!!!!"
Seriously folks, this is what most of us had to deal with until the wee hours of the morning. Nice work idiots. Nice work.
I should also mention that all this fighting led also to this: 5. Rachel disowning Nick, an innocent bystander, as a friend for the rest of the night.
Tough break for me.
Anyways, on to funner subjects...like beer pong. Ian arrived on Friday, bringing with him a classy homemade trophy, put together with parts collected at Value Village - an upside-down salad bowl, a metal mug dealie, not unlike the top of the Stanley Cup had it been constructed not by an English silversmith but instead by three drunk hobos and a raccoon. To top the cherished championship mug off was a cheerleader figure, obviously ripped off some high school cheerleading championship in times of yore.
So, with such a prize up for grabs, Ian and Bre organized a beer pong tourney, with teams of two chosen at random, out of a hat (surely sending the usual team of Bucholtz and Scotty crying into each other 's arms :P)
I was teamed with Bre, and despite a valiant effort, we lost to Scott and Lanette, who were subsequently bounced in a later round. The final came down to Chris and Amanda vs. Rachel and Jason.
Midway through the round it appeared Chris and A-Scrams were going to win, but Rachel/Jay fought back, and eventually won when Chris knocked over a cup of beer with only two cups left. Game. Set. Match.
No post-game drug tests were administered, but tournament officials are still investigating whether or not there any cheating taking place on the part of Rachel, who made suspicious comments after the trip. Results thus far have been inconclusive.
The rest of the weekend went according to plan, with our team playing pretty strong, except we were bounced in the first round of Monday playoffs and finished with a 3-2 record.
One last point, and probably the most important, is that we were - if possible - far more obnoxious than we were in Year 1. Last time, Chris became well known in the beer gardens for constantly chanting "LET'S GO CANNONS!"
This year, we all did it, of course - once even getting a return cheer from another team across the campsite. However, between repeated chants, and the aforementioned three guys streaking the fireworks display wearing Cannons hats, and carrying a team flag (and also chanting) I can't imagine people like us much. Oh well - fuck 'em.
At least we're making a name for ourselves, as evidenced by this conversation I had with a fellow Funstasticker while waiting in the shower lineup on Saturday morning.
Guy: So, what team are you with?
Me: The Cannons.
Guy: Oh, you're those loud guys just around the corner with the blue hats?
Me: Yep, that's us.
Guy: You guys went pretty hard last night eh? I guess that means you'll be takin' er easy tonight? (He said optimistically)
Me: Haha, I doubt it. We're just getting warmed up man.
Guy: So it's gonna be like last year then?
Me: Last year? Whadda ya mean?
Guy: You know, like last year...with that "Let's Go Cannons" asshole.
Me: Oh, that's my brother. He's our coach.
Awesome. So even though we didn't start our dynasty of Funtastic championships that Bucholtz predicted, as least we're the biggest dicks.
It's like they say - if you can't beat 'em, at least keep 'em up at night.
Our team's proudest achievement yet. By far.
Let's Go Cannons!