Friday, June 22, 2007

Marshall Fest is here!!!


As many of you may already know my favorite weekend of the year is upon us, Marshall Firemans Festival. Now, you may be asking yourself why in the world would anyone give two shits about a rinky dink festival in a rinky dink town, if you are you havent been there. See Marshall Fest has always been a great time for me. Even before I was in high school we would go to the Fest, sneak off and get drunk, because curfew was out the door. Usually our parents were getting loaded in the beer tent. I lived 10 miles away from Marshall growing up, so the Fest was a time where I could go and show off some new clothes (like the plaid on plaid outfit you wore that you didn’t know how ridiculous you look until hundreds of people laugh at you), check out how the girls were developing(I know I am terrible), it was a time to spend $200 winning a $10 knife and have some drunk pretend he is your guardian to pick it up for you. Hell the first time I ever went down on a girl was the weekend of Marshall Fest, so I hope you can start to appreciate why I keep this weekend near and dear to my heart. Anyways I have so many wonderful memories from this weekend, and yes it is pathetic that I get this excited for a towny festival, and yes taking a vacation day on Monday so you can party for three days is not how a professional should act, but deal with it. Today I don’t care about the judgments I will receive from some, no today I want to share why this weekend is so special. Lets just say it is my “Casa Bonita”.

It was very hard trying to trim a list of memories and stories that me and my friends shared. I think the reason there are so many great stories is because it is the one time of year, especially recently, when pretty much all of my friends gather. You could call this the drinking Mecca if you will and each year many make the pilgrimage (I apologize for this sacrilege to all my Muslim readers). So a few of my friends and I have tried to put together a few of our favorite stories, to share with everyone, in hope to bring more in to what has become the orgasm of my summers. Please bear in mind that these stories are drunk recollections of what happened and if I miss a few details feel free to post them later. I will first start with memories I have of my friends and then I will give you a few personal memories.

My friends Curt, Mark, and I believe Pat went to play some games between one of the bands sets. The game is a classic throw the football through a tire and win a prize. Three tries is what you get and the number you make determine the size of prize. Mark and Pat led off and I believe they both made one. Curt takes his turn, and utters, “Let me show you how this is done,” and instead of aiming he throws the football right into the large collection of semi naked women, and sweet Ferrari mirrors breaking a bunch of them. As the carny tries to give him shit Curt just shrugs it off and leaves.

One night after we completely got lit up at the Fest, my buddy Irv drives his car to our Friend Aarons house. Aaron and a bunch of people were staying at my place, but the drive was too far even for Irv so he decided to make himself right at home. Now if you know Irv, you know that he needs a good night snack if he wants to operate at full function the next day. Aarons parents being empty-nesters don’t really stock a bunch of drunk snacks in the pantry. Irv would have to make do. He found some 2 month old Chinese food, ate that, but that didn’t do the trick. So he grabbed 4 bags of saltines and proceeded to eat them all, without water, and just a bit of hot sauce to wash them down. I still offer Irv fifty dollars if he can repeat this feast. What Irv did not know is Aaron’s mom witnessed his whole eating display. Lets just say she wasn’t as thrilled as I was hearing this story.

Most of the stories begin the same way us getting smashed so I am going skip that part from now on.

The a-bar was at Worm’s and this was the first time a bunch of us were partying at worms place. Though we were there earlier in the day, it was light out so, distinguishing Worms house from the row of duplexes next to him was difficult. My buddy Rum got back and went in the fridge to grab a cheeseburger when he thought to himself, “hmmm oddly nobody is here,” Rum froze for a minute as a big man wrapped his arms around Rum standing in front of the fridge, Rum quickly realized that he was not in Worms house. No, in fact he was in the home of one of Marshall’s finest police officers, and he wasn’t to thrilled about a 350lb man eating his lunch for the next day. He struggled Rum out the door and called the cops. When the red and whites showed up all of us two houses down had to get a look of what was going down, as we head to the front of the house we see Rum in restraints laying on the lawn, with cops standing over him. He pleas for them to let him go into our custody which the cops would have obliged, but Worm thought it would be better if they just gave him a ride home. They gave Rum to tickets and gave him a ride home. He woke up the next day with a mean hangover and a cheese burger in his pocket.

We were in the beer tent one night and the Jeschke household was out in full force. My friend Jenny Jeschke’s father was throwing back beers and doing his thing, giving shit too anyone trying to make advancements on his daughters. Well that wasn’t really working for him and one by one guys came up to spit game at his three beautiful daughters. Two top it off Jenny says to him, "Dad, I think mom is getting it on with someone in the port-a-potty." Not pleased by everything happening around him he decides it is time to go for his. He goes to Jenny’s friend, and a legend in her own right Jessica Vick, and simply tells her, “I want to ravage your vagina,” stunned by what we heard, we all went to see if this line would work for us.

Now this is the tip of the iceberg of memories with my friends but this post is carrying on and I have some stories of mine I would like to share. However not forgotten are things such as Curt wearing Aaron’s mothers panties down to the fest, Lauer pissing in worms garbage can not once but twice, Mark getting a BJ in the backseat of his Sante Fe, Packard heckling the home talent team after a disputed call simply yelling, “Shut your mouth Donny!” speaking of one of the players disputing a call, the player looks over, sees his buddy and walks back to the base not saying anything more to the umps, or one of my personal favorites my buddy worm making love in a portable restroom after three days of abuse. The list goes on and on and I think you are starting to get the point. Now a few stories from the Boss of the Sauce, ironically enough that nickname started at Marshall Fest.

One night after the fest I decided I was going to walk to the a-bar, turning down ride after ride. I soon realize that I made a big mistake and Worm’s house was a very formidable walk. I decided to take a break on the picnic table in front of Jimmy Johns. Within minutes I am passed out drunker than shit. I mysterious vehicle pulled up carried me to the car and took me to my destination. The next day things went on as normal, but when I got to the beer tent my parents were less than pleased. The convo went something like this:

Mom- “So I heard you had a rough night last night? Passed out on a picnic bench in front of Jimmy Johns?”

Me- “Yeah I partied a little to hard, how in the world did you hear about that? Who gave me a ride home?”

Mom- “Matthew, you are drinking too much, I cannot believe you are drinking too much, I cannot believe you don’t remember who gave you a ride! Your brothers girlfriend carried you to her car and drove you to your friends”

Me- “Oh, that was nice of her.”

Then I proceeded to take myself to that same state, this time I got a ride home.

After the whole Curt throwing the football at the mirrors Mark came and showed me what he had won, and told me the story of Curt. The band had just finished up a set and I was pumped because they rocked the house. Mark showed me his little sponge bob stuffed animal and bow and arrow set he won. I took a look at Sponge Bob took a look at it and said oh this is very nice and proceeded to kick the animal on top of the pavilion were the band was playing. In doing so I kicked my shoe on top of the roof as well. Luckily the band was on a break because the lead singer used the microphone stand to get my shoe down. I think the animal is still up there.

Last year my parents were out of town and I decided to throw a little pool party grill out. Well in my infinite wisdom of party planning I decided that your party is only as good as the booze you serve and I wanted to find the best whop recipe. Searching through pages and pages of anti-italian hate sites I came upon the recipe for Jungle Juice. A dangerous concoction with only one goal in my, getting everyone completely fucked up. Lets just say it was working its magic when I realized someone needed to cook the food. Luckily my buddy Anth helped my out, but as you can see at the bottom of this blog, I wore the apron so I was giving constant updates to how the food was coming along. Jake had a great idea of going out to tell everyone the Brats are done with nothing but the apron on. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided that was a great idea and stripped down. I go out there and see everyone talking and having a good time, I get everyones attention and let them know the Brats are done, then I turned around finished my drink and headed inside, lets just say everyone lost there apetite.

Again, I have so many more stories I can share, and I plan on making many more memories of this time honored tradition. Please come and help me make that possible.

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