itching to be f***ed

so a lot has gone down since last we spoke. thats right, we're conversing now...you and me.

i left carthage saturday morning and drove the windy stretch of I-40 back to the knox just in time for gregs arrival. we spent the afternoon noshing at tomato heads, which is a guaranteed dining spot for anyone who comes and visits me at UT, touring th campus, walking the old city, and chilling in my dorm.

who knew equador was a place of major slavery?

now you know.

after an unenthusiastic "welcome to moes" and the dinner that followed we got dressed and headed over to this ultra ghetto room in the bottom of one of the dining facilities complete with exposed brick walls, faux stained glass light fixtures, and burnt orange bucket seats...naturally this room made the perfect backdrop for pre-formal pictures. we spent about an hour photo-ing it up and completely missed my big's pregaming session at her apartment because of it. oh damn.

which brings me to this: why cant i have friends at ut who will do stupid crazy stuff like goofing off and taking off the wall messed up retro style pictures in dressy attire with me? is that too much to ask?

greg says all the girls at ut kinda look and act the same. i think hes onto something.

so then we made the trek over to the bus full of drunken sorority girls and their frat boy counterparts. naturally the safe and logical inclination is to fit as many intoxicated people on the bus as possible. so they do. greg gets flashed by a variety of my sisters during this time...much to his chagringe.

we arrive at the women's basketball hall of fame aka: "super secret location" and greg and i spend the next two hours or so looking from above down on the dance floor making fun of our drunken peers and assigning them appropriate stereotypes ie: "guy who dances by himself" "guy who gropes his girlfriend" "guy who is completely whipped" etc. then greg and i got on the floor and showed them how its done in A Town. and believe me they were impressed. and one of my sisters thought greg was very hot. so that was good times. then of course there was barclay who was in a class all his own. namely because his name is barclay and was pissed about his confiscated flask and had no trouble telling everyone about how angered he was concerning this injustice. then there was the couple who was literally doing it on the dance floor...literally. save some for later guys geez.

so then we waited for the bus which literally came 30 minutes late. trecked back to the dorm. did some super spy ninja tactics to get greg into the room without complications of my ra. did some bitchin photoshop and called it a night.

the next morning we had breakfast with a hungover "nurse liz" and then greg was gone like a flash.

so yes, the saying is true. there are some days when we all wish we were greg jarvis. and even though ive never actually been greg jarvis, at least i can say i got to chill with him for a while.