Fellowship of the Ice Chest

I think my policy regarding this website will be to do entries Sunday through Thursday, leaving Friday and Saturday for my weekly marathon games of Dodge Ball. You may not know this, but I am fairly certain that there was a Dodge Ball game for Nintendo. It never captured the rough, beautiful edges the game had when played in gym class. For instance, there were no overbearing lesbian PE teachers, exhorting you to throw the ball harder at your classmates. Also, it couldn't possibly convey the pants-wetting fear I'd experience as someone I considered to be on my team would wheel around and chunk the ball at my head. Some parents complain about the violence in movies, but if you ask me, it pales in comparison to gym class. It's a taxpayer sponsored version of Lord of the Flies.

Anywho, going back to the mystery of the chirping in my bedroom on Thursday night, I discovered that it was my smoke detector. It was beeping once a minute for about two hours straight, so I decided to take it down off the ceiling. I discovered then that, wherever I put it in my apartment, I could still hear it. So, I did the only logical thing and stuck it inside my car. I then went to sleep peacefully that night and forgot completely about the smoke detector, only to have my pantalones scared off the next morning on the drive in to work by a bewildering beeping sound coming from under my seat. I was certain it was some sort of sign of the apocalypse. Right up there with the weeping and gnashing of teeth is the beeping of the Nissan. To give a boring story an even more boring ending, the battery needed to be replaced. All is right with the world now.

I had my first activity yesterday as an alumnus of Trinity University when a group of us went tubing with the alumni association. The coolest part of tubing down the river is how quickly a group forms around the cooler and then stays there for the duration of trip. We had a regular Fellowship of the Ice Chest yesterday, and it was just like the movie, except for the fact that everyone was sunburned, in bathing suits, and totally incoherent due to alcohol. Maybe that'll be in the director's cut. Anyway, it was a good time.

Well, the Supreme Court shot down that law against sodomy in Texas. So, the next man who attempts to violate me no longer has to worry about criminal repercussions. Thanks a lot for that one, Supreme Court. I suppose this is a good thing, if only because all of us now see the Supreme Court for what it is: a band of ruthless homosexuals who will stop at nothing to further their own agenda. In actuality, I think this is a good thing because now more people can do what they want to do, and I hope that in the future, the homosexual community repays the SC by throwing wild, Judicial Branch themed sex parties.