The UT Weekend

This summer when Mark and I were talking about which away games we wanted to go to we joked about going down to Knoxville for the Tennessee - Florida game. We decided that going to UT would be absurd.

Last Wednesday when my old housemate Fritz called me up and asked if I wanted to go to Knoxville for the game I tried to think of a good reason not to go. I had no business going to Knoxville. The only thing that I could think of was "This could be quite blogable".

On Friday the 5 of us left. It was Me, Mark, Fritz and 2 of his frat buddies. We stopped at a Sonic and then picked up a case of beer for the last hour of the drive. Amazingly in Tennessee you can drink in a car as long as the driver isn't in possession of alcohol. The guys we stayed with, Brian and Chris, live in a really nice condo. It was far to nice for college kids to live in. Chris was like a mix between Tweeter from Varsity Blues, Don Dawson from Dazed and Confused, and Luke Wilson. After pounding some beers we went over to a party a few streets down. Just people chilling outside during a warm Tennessee night. Our hosts were both in a frat and they were having a "band party" that night even though on the way down we thought they were having a "man party". Instead of walking there the guy called a pledge to have him drive us over there. They put all of the pledges on a rotation and make they carry around beepers just in case a brother needs something. So we all crammed in the back of a pledge's Suburban with our beers and sang Rocky Top the entire way over to the frat house.

The frat wasn't so much a house as it was a compound. It looked like a mix between a dorm and the living quarters of a fire station. Southern hospitality is great because the guys there treated us like family. We got stoopid drunk then decided to hit up the bars on "The Strip" Before we left Chris had to go piss. He made one of the Pledges come into the bathroom with him and had him hold his beer while he peed. The pledge was standing behind him and he looks over his shoulder and yells "DON'T LOOK AT ME PLEDGE". Then he made the pledge give him a cigarette and light it, all without making eye contact. They really haze the shit out of those kids. If we hazed like that I would be much more inclined to join a frat. Hazing and keggers are the best things about the fraternity system, it's a shame Michigan is so PC about both, also date rape.

We had a pledge drive us to the bars while we yelled Rocky Top for the about the 12th time. Fritz, being Fritz, of course ran into someone he knew. I swear that kid can't eat a ham sandwich without seeing someone he knows. We grabbed some late night trash food and went back to the condo and polished off another case of beer and got some sleep before the big day.

On Saturday we woke up and got all dressed up for game, which was a T-Shirt I had gotten from a pledge. We went over to the frat house to hang out before the game. SEC tailgates are a little bit different than the "slam as many beers as you can" Big Ten style. Everyone gets dressed up. It appears that the recipe for success is cutoff's as short as possible (bonus points for corduroy or seersucker), dressy shirt, and dirtiest 'stache. All the guys in the frat had grown out their mustaches and they looked magnificent. And the girls. I wished someone had told me when I was a senior in high school about the girls of the SEC. There were so many turbo babes in orange sun dresses. These southern belles have smiles that would melt you heart, and bodies that would melt even the thickest M&M candy shell. The frat had some barbecue and a live one man band. We only have one speed, and that speed is let's get drunk. We just started binge drinking. Passing around a fifth of Jim Beam, chugging beers, doing shotguns in the shower. We made the musician play Rocky Top about 6 times. Everyone else was casually drinking, and we were at Crunktown city limits. Fritz gets us to play "Drunkest Man in America" where the objective is to be the drunkest man in America. It's my new favorite drinking game btw. We wandered over to another tailgate and ate some grilled alligator. We then went over to the stadium to get some tickets. Mark and I ended up getting seats together in the upper bowl of Neyland. We got chairs with seat backs and were in the front row so we could put our feet up. Of course we brought in some single shots of Jim Beam. We sat with our feet up sipping on Jim Beam and Cokes enjoying some hard nosed SEC football. We kept asking ourselves what we were doing in Knoxville. We were the rowdiest fans in our section by far.

After watching Tennessee get smoked we started back towards the condo and along the way Mark and I both bought bottles of Andre and then picked up a case of Keystones. On game days the cops don't enforce open intoxicant laws, which is awesome. We staggered through the streets of Knoxville trying to sing Rocky Top and taking swigs from our Andre's and being those guys. We could only remember 2 lines, and we didn't even have those right so we just kept repeating "Rocky Top oh Rocky Top, home sweet home to me, Rocky Top oh Rocky Top, WHOOOO, Rocky Top TENNESSEE" I don't care how many times Hail to the Victors gets voted best fight song in college football, Rocky Top is much better. Mark and I finally made it back, but are too drunk to walk up to the 4th floor, so instead we lay down on the grass and finish our champagne and sing Rocky Top. Andre is the Miller High Life of Champagne. We then start in on the case of beer. The condo across the street has a tiki bar on their balcony and people inside of it too. We wander over there for awhile before coming back across the street. Mark and I decided to go get food and we are convinced by a Dominoes employee to purchase a large pizza for 3.99. Mark is still certain that there was ejaculate on that pizza, but either way it was tasty.

We met back up with everyone and then headed out to the bars. We got to the bar and started doing shots. I've now been drinking for 13 hours and am completely hammered. I start texting people. I'm not sending normal texts, I'm sending completely absurd texts (mostly poo oriented) to random people in my phone book, most of whom I haven't talked to in a long time. Here is a sampling of some of what I sent:

"I made a dumpo on your bedsheets, come party with us."

"Can I put Seran Wrap over your face and then poop in your mouth?"

To a girl I hadn't talked to in a long time:
"What are you thinking about?"

"My meatrod is raging in Knoxville"

To my roommate ex girlfriend:
"Can I take you to grizzly peak?"

"I am Spartacus!"

"Can I have my way with you and 6 clones of your childhood dog?"

"I killed a dear!"

"You smell 12 times worse than Dave Wannstedt's 'stache. Will you date me?"

"Can I poop your bed?"
Her: "haha what?"
Me: "Is that a yes or a no?"
Her: "You can poop my bed anytime you'd like"

"Your a big dirty poo"

"Your my poopy queen"

"I ate out a lemur, where were you?"

By far the best one was to a girl I lived with 2 summers ago:
"I just strangled a hooker to death. What should I do now?"
Her response: "Who is this?"

Near the end of the night Fritz is at the bar and he keeps ordering shots so he can hit on the hot bartender. He would order shots and then turn to me and go "I'm not going to pay for these". After closing time we stumbled back to the condo with some girls we met at the bar, singing Rocky Top the entire way. When we get back we keep drinking and I totally blackout. I guess I go out on the balcony and when I come in like an hour later I have completely peed myself. I rarely blackout, but then again I rarely pee my pants. I pass out on the floor in just my boxers.

So that's one way to spend a weekend. I feel like my "Why not?" mentality is eventually going to come back and haunt me, but what the hell. It was quite possible the best weekend of my life. Plus, I now have the number 1 and 3 largest college football stadiums checked off my list this season and a trip to Happy Valley in a month should get me the silver. When else will I be able to live like this?