“OH MY GOODNESS, BUDDY, DO IT!”
GOOD LORD WHY DID IT HAVE TO RAIN?!
And why couldn’t anyone realize that we had to sit SOMEWHERE, we couldn’t just be invisible?
Additional note: Matt + drunk chicks at football game = hilarity.
Additional additional note: don’t sit in the cheerleaders’ section of the bus if you want to keep your sanity.
And just like that, the football season is over. The second year of marching band comes to a close, with the Butt Song still intact and the famous equation of 23 + 46 = 69 still in the book. However, I realized when walking home from this last game today that we failed to play even once the Sexy Back short. This will be taken up with Torrey at a future date, don’t think it won’t.
-My long-awaited hitting of double digits in marriages
-Me being Eric Strom’s pet (don’t ask)
-The discovery that it takes 226 licks to get to the center of one of those miniature Tootsie Pops
-At least 6 profoundly drunk sorority girls being dragged up the stairs by their not-so-profoundly-drunk friends
-The shocking discovery that our high school’s shy, bookish tuba player was standing shirtless at the game as the “O” in a line of fellow shirtless fraternity guys spelling out “IDAHO”
Hurrah for homecoming! I love seeing my old elementary school and high school. ‘Tis fun. Though I think I annoyed the crap out of the clarinet section by the end of the day, because every time I got a glimpse of the high school I was all, “holy crap there’s Moscow High School I went there and was in the band yay!!” Sorry, guys.
And I wish Idaho would have scored earlier in the game—I would’ve gotten hold of those little ribbon things they shoot from the boxes in the ceiling earlier and would have been decked out even dorkier than I was. What fun boredom + ribbons can be!
Yeah, boring blogs. Deal with it!
Today I learned that the short number 119 in our music is, in fact, Sexy Back. I think I frightened Torrey when I starting jumping around screaming, “holy crap, YES!” Plus, if we end up doing a half-time show to Village People music in the near future, it was totally my idea, for the record.
The game came close to being fun for me (“what?” you say. “A football game…fun?!”). I think it was because I was in close proximity to Matt, Beau, Maggie, and Rob. And the two weddings that occurred on the bus helped as well. Matt, if we frightened you, I apologize on behalf of all of us weirdos (Gate Control Theory! Ahahaha… ).
I was going to blog about something else, but I can’t remember what it was. Sad? Yes.
Wouldn’t that make a good book title? Or a play? Hm…
Anyways, I think it’s been proven through series of trials that football makes me insane. Not playing it, not watching it, but being present in the general vicinity of one before the game actually starts. When there’s crappy pop music blasting over the speakers and I’m wearing this full wool uniform and I can’t help but dance like an idiot.
INSANITY, MR. JONES!