These are the socks I wore last night. I took them to a party where there were high schoolers playing flip cup. One of them was a Ginger. I had an urge to sock them, instead I schooled them on the Flip Cup Table. And that's what I did on my 26th birthday.
You know, I had a really good time this weekend. It was a little unexpected and so I'm going to tell you what happened.
Saturday started off with MILC, the Madison Informal Linguistics Colloquium. This is the annual Linguistics (and German) department's evening socialization event. It involves people making up fake abstracts to fake papers and then drinking a good amount of wine, beer, and punch. This would be fun if it wasn't with the Linguistics and German Departments, but it is. Anyway, this year was actually enjoyable. Conversation ranged from the stupidity of our 101 students, to mustache rides, muff divers, and finally if the punch should actually be referred to as WOP. Or if that was only a derogatory name for Italo-Americans. And then of course someone had to ask if the two uses were derivationally related. No one likes that kid. After a quick trip to see a professor playing in a rock band, it was on to the pajama party.
After a quick Clark Kent move in Tommy's room, I was in my galabeya and making wild assertions about my Flip Cup skillz. This led to a rousing game of the Flizzy Cizzy in the Creepy Attic. During one celebratory dance I lifted someone into the rafters. Don't worry, she did not crack her head open. At 4:00 AM I had an 80 min. conversation with Gabby.
I was going to talk about Sunday also. Now it's Tuesday though and I think the moment has passed. I did see a homemade pinata get cracked open by a Jimmy crutch and then spill its contents of tampons and disposable razors though.
Flip Cup. Who even came up with this game? A visionary, that's who. Someone who could see the future of drinking games, and made it happen. Speaking of which, last night I made it happen. After walking 2 blocks in a blizzard I entered a basement. My fingers were cold, but my mouth was thirsty. Thirsty for victory. Only later did I realize that I had brought the domination with me. One thing I did learn: I am not a good whiskey flipper.
Later we ran to the KK. This was actually very dangerous being that Madison had not yet decided to plow. The KK was dirty as usual, but the real point here is the A-bar. Two things came out of this:
1. Girls from Jersey just don't get it.
2. We Built This City on Rock and Roll
