I've been out of pocket lately because the guys have been wreaking so much havoc. Once South Carolina got things turned around, and started playing decent football, they abandoned Pennsylvania to follow the team around. After misbehaving at the Kentucky game and getting shipped back to me, they caused chaos across the city of Memphis. When their box came off the plane at the FedEx hub, I immediately received a call from Immigration and Customs. They wanted to know about the box full of hairy animals, addressed to me, that reeked of vodka. I told them I had no idea what they were talking about. They said there was a box sitting at the hub that reeked of vodka, was addressed to me, and seemed to be packed with some sort of animal. I told them to soak the box in vodka and ship it to Siberia. They told me it would have to be quarantined for 30 days. I said that would be fine, I should be able to move by then.
Well, about 24 hours later, the city was going wild with tales of liquor stores all over Memphis being broken into and pillaged for nothing but vodka. People reported seeing "miniature Big Foots" running from the scene wearing nothing but Speedos. Conspiracy theories abounded! Mom and I alone knew the culprits. Customs called me again and told me the box had been shredded and the contents were nowhere to be found. I told them to canvass or stake out all the liquor outlets and they'd probably find the guilty parties.
Somehow the guys made it to South Carolina for the game against Arkansas. Unfortunately we would have to lost to a high school girls flag football team. The guys were loaded out of their minds, running up and down the bleachers, swinging their Speedos on their fingers trying to get the crowd riled up, to no avail. As the game got progressively worse for us, they were running up and down the sidelines, throwing their visors, kicking people in the shins, tossing around cups of Gatorade, etc. I think I saw Maurice go sailing across the field when he kicked the Old Ball Coach in the shin. As if that wasn't enough, after the game, they slashed the tires on Arkansas' bus and then went and TP-ed the Coach's house and threw rotten eggs at his windows. That was when they ended up in jail.
Meanwhile back in PA, Derf has been a perfect little gentleman. He was nursing his broken arm and leg and driving Mom crazy, though not to the best of his ability, due to the fact that he dried out a little bit. AND, was not being antagonized by the other three. Mom said he got his casts off the other day, and a dozen mini bottles of his vodka stash fell out. Oh, let me backtrack to Halloween, when he was helping Mom hand out goodies. Everyone thought his costume was really cool, and loved his corn rows and bleached hair! When they saw his broken leg and his crutches, they felt so sorry for him. He ended up making lots of new friends and was in his glory!! Anyway, once he got his casts off, he actually started helping Mom around the house.
Since he has been so helpful lately, Mom told him he could stay up and watch the South Carolina-Florida game tonight. We were prepared to watch SC get annihilated, but MUCH to our surprise and pleasure, it worked out in our favor!!! Derf was wearing some garnet SC logo Speedos, but Mom thinks he stole them. When the score got up to 29-7, he was tearing around on the back of the couch, jumping up and down, totally hosed on vodka shooters! He fell off the couch, broke his toe, and passed out on the floor.
Meanwhile back at The Swamp....the other 3 were in a *rowdy* mood! Shocking, huh?! They were all fired up and rambunctious, but Florida's kickoff return touchdown took the wind out of their sails pretty quickly. They were sitting on the sidelines, pouring gallons of vodka into the player's Gatorade cups and chugging them as fast as they could. Well, once things started looking back up for us, it was ON!!! I have no idea A) how they got to Gainesville B) where they got any money C) how they managed to carry so much vodka, but they were running up and down the bleachers in the SC section, throwing mini bottles of vodka into the stands, running over to the Florida side, mooning them, and running away as fast as their stubby legs would carry them while laughing hysterically (and drunkenly), corn rows clanging together. Then they would go back down to the sidelines and run up and down, standing on each other's shoulders, high fiving the players. Well, at the end of the game when the Old Ball Coach was doused with Gatorade, I saw six stubby little monster legs running down the field with the Gatorade cooler over their heads. I think they were going to try and tear down the goal posts, but instead they ran smack into it and knocked themselves out. Probably a good thing because I don't think there was a drop of vodka left in the state of Florida. I can't wait to hear/read about what happened when they regained consciousness....
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