Shwin and John's Excellent Adventure

Now this is the story all about how I flipped-turned John all upside down and I’d like to take a minute so sit right there and I’ll tell you the story about how John kicked a woman in the back of her friggin head.

So let’s just start at the beginning of this wonderful trip…it started off really horribly…6 am Thursday.  Doing some dishes last second because I didn’t want them just sitting there for four days while I was gone (read: when you’re leaving for a while, don’t leave shit out.  It’s fucking nasty), and one of them was this huge sharp knife.  Was cleaning the blade when BOOM shit slices open my thumb, blood literally gushing all over the sink (had to scrub hard to keep it from staining…looks like my blood follows the g-code #gohardorgohome), and it took me like 20 minutes to wrap that sumbitch up, except that it wasn’t really done bleeding, so my thumb was swelling up with blood.  So that was fun.  Security was super interested in why my thumb was swollen, which was good, I guess, because they didn’t really give a shit that I was smuggling enough nutella sandwiches to feed a small Somali child army.  Dear NSA, I’m totally not doing that.  kthx.

Just chilled at the airport, nothing to interesting…well minus the fact that somehow between me checking in and me finally getting through security (honestly only a 20 minute process…look at that, there aren’t that many people who leave Knoxville at 730 am on a Thursday), my gate changed twice, so that was somewhat interesting.  I know they technically say “gate may change blah blah blah” but how often does that actually happen? Knoxville has 12 gates though, so its not like it was a significant problem.  However, the flight at the gate before mine to DEN was to IAH, and they overbooked that flight to Houston, so they offered free gateside check-in to passengers going to IAH for their larger carry-ons.  Now, I wasn’t going to Houston, but the lady gave me the tags and shit anyway, so that was a super primo plus, since I got that free checkin for the Denver flight.  That was excellent only because my left thumb was still in an excruciating amount of pain at that time.  Oh and speaking of that…so on the plane I fell happily asleep, since I am apparently one of a small minority of people who easily fall asleep on planes…idk, maybe I just like it because its somewhat uncomfortable, or because on 8 hour trans-continental flights sleeping is an easy way to pass time, or what it is, but I hear people complain about being able to fall asleep on planes.  Well anyway, there was this seven year oldish girl in the seat in front of me.  WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?

A)    Nothing, only reason I noticed was on my way out of the plane

B)     She talked the whole fucking time and I was this close to manufacturing a shiv out of various items in my backpack to slit her god damn throat

C)    Her mother was super hot

D)    The cunt leaned her seat back, I fell asleep, and when she returned it to the fucking up-right position it squeezed my left thumb and I called her a “fucking reservoir of douchebagitude”

CUE THE DUCK.  Well the answer is d.  I regret nothing, what a bitch.  That damn thing started throbbing in addition to being swollen with blood.  I tell you what, this sort of logic doesn’t always hold, but…using half a thing of Neosporin really helped speed up the cut-sealing-itself process.  I guess losing a shitton of blood also helped, but still.  Good to know for the future, I suppose.  So some stranger called her a douche.  I’m sure far worse things will be said to her.  Faulty logic? Absolutely.  Am I wrong? No.  Does it mean just because she did something mean to me I don’t have the right to be INCREDIBLY FUCKING PISSED ABOUT IT? Nope! Huzzah, you organic set of cunt-filled orifices!  OH MY GOD THAT’S THE BEST INSULT I’VE CREATED THIS IS GOING TO BE USED AGAIN.  PROBABLY IN A SITUATION I’LL REGRET #YOLO.

So yeah anyway then in the Denver airport took the tram-thing to the main terminal, where some white lady told her daughter that “I wasn’t obeying the radio guy to hold on because I’m brown and brown people have different rules about riding trains” which seemed like an INCREDIBLY racist thing for a stranger to say, but whatever she’s not wrong.  I would link a picture here…but I think everyone knows what I’m talking about.  And then after that I ran into whitey…wearing a r*d w*ngs jersey.  In Denver.  People were giving him just the best looks.  It was pretty funny.  My flight made him a bit late for his meeting, but he wasn’t too broken up about it so I guess it wasn’t that serious.

So he left me in the atrium of his building, so I could get some studying done.  Well, so I couldn’t connect to the UC-B wifi networks, so I just read the most academic stuff on my computer for an hour, which was my old senior design stuff, including the contract from way the fuck back when, which had my faults listed as: “cooperation” and “conflict negotiation,” which is funny because I’m excellent at negotiating exactly what I want.  And I’m super good at cooperating with people as long as I’ve negotiated the terms of the agreement.  So idk what that was all about.  The third fault was ‘procrastination,’ which I feel like I’ve turned into an art form.  So I guess I can’t complain about that one.

And then somehow I got roped into attending johnny’s class, which was interesting insofar as people were giving presentations, and the class was giving comments.

I don’t think I need to spell out what happened, do I? Oh, I do? WELL HERE. WE. GO.

Person 1: said some shit about Parkinson’s, but said some nonsense about how shorter halflives are better for radioisotopes, which is just patently wrong for reasons this blog wasn’t designed to explain (fuck that noise I get enough academic work already) so I ripped her a new one on that.

Person 2: fell asleep since it was mad boring, literally wrote down “sorry bro I tots fell asleep missed your prezi no comments”

Person 3: she seemed like a bitch (which was only confirmed once john said she went to UNC for ‘undergrad’), so I wrote “you, trying to do intelligent things…it’s a bold strategy cotton, let’s see if it pays off for you”

Now because the first one was academically helpful, I definitely turned that one in.  The last two…let’s leave that up to the reader.  You decide for yourself whether I turned those in or not (hint: I told Johnny I didn’t).

So that was more fun than it should have been…I mean I’m on vacation, and here I am going to class. I barely go to my own classes.  But true to form, I fell asleep, and as that famous saying goes, if Ashwin doesn’t fall asleep in class, did class really happen?

Anyway killed some time till we bussed it down to Denver, and had some pregame beers, and headed over to the Pepsi Center, there were a bunch of wings fan around town…and someone was in a Cleary jersey WHO THE HELL WEARS A DAN CLEARY JERSEY.

Anyway so we made it to the stadium, snuck in our liquid courage, found our seats (which had a great view of the ice, in all seriousness…hockey may be one of the few events were nosebleeds are a pretty decent view).  So this rivalry has been dying as of recently, right?  Well, hiring his holiness St. Patrick (see you can’t get me for blasphemy because there IS a St Patrick so huzzah *ruxin voice* SUUUUUUCK EEEEEEEEET) has apparently added something special back to the Avs-Wings game…within 3 minutes, McLeod had started some small tussles (small compared to the history of the game, of course) after he knocked the living shit out of Kronwall.  IT WAS FUCKING AWESOME.  Brett would’ve loved that hit.  It was straight out of NHL01 and got McLeod a minor, a major, an ejection, a fine and a five game ban, all for one stinking hit on a pussy-bitch.

Anyway the game itself was a sellout, about a 100 greater than the actual capacity of the Pepsi Center, but unfortunately it was maybe 17-22% full of wings fans, which was kind of a bummer, but still awesome because they were spread out just enough to hear each other cheer, which gave ol’ Johnny some courage.  The whiskey definitely did too.  Now in all honesty (and shouldn’t really come as some surprise…) I am a pretty decent trash talker.  I can usually hold my own just fine.  But Johnny…isn’t.  At Atlanta, he was a complete liability.  At FSU and Clemson, admittedly we didn’t try too hard, but still, he wasn’t the best trashtalking crewmate to have.  But at the hockey game…man it was a blast.  For three hours we were yelling at each other, some punches were thrown, we got into a hockey fight with each other (I gut punched him like 20 times while he was trying to get my avs jersey over my head.  Ignoring that I have like 75 pounds and 8 inches on him, I’m curious what his strategy/end game was).  Don’t really want to talk about the game itself, but there were some nice goals both ways, and a few more fights throughout the game, and although the Avs rallied to tie it at 2, they gave away the third period by missing some really golden chances.  Oh well.  But of all the teams to lose to, the goddamn Wings? I know Patrick isn’t too thrilled about that so I’m sure he got his message to the boys #81-1-0IsStillAnOption

But man let me tell you it was like 199x up in there! 18000 people chanting “RED WINGS SUCK” was just amazing.  It’s one thing to get all riled up for the home team that you support, but a totally different thing to get super excited about hating the opponent.  So that was fun.  But basically the whole game I spent fighting John from high fiving and celebrating with Wings fans by tackling him, and one particular incident got a little feisty and he ended up kicking this chick in the back of the head.  It was so fucking awesome.  She was a bitch anyway, spending the whole game on her phone texting duckfaces to her jersey shore friends anyway, so whatever who gives a shit about her anyway she was probably just some slut they found in a storm drain on the way over to the Pepsi Center anway.  I mean there’s really not much to say about me and whitey yelling continuously about the Avs/Wings and getting drunk and yelling more.

I'm going to stop here for now, because I'm tired of writing, and because fuck you its my blog.