I owe you a tale. A tale of drunken hilarity. On the e-bus. In Austin, TX. (I promise no more fragments.)
Well a normal night in Austin (drinking on 6th street, almost getting tattoos, eating a Best Wurst) led myself and a group of some rowdy rabelrousers to the E-bus. We were trying to make our way to West Campus and ended up taking a long, loud, crazy bus trip.
We made our way to the back of the bus where a group of some drunken boys were already holding camp. I don't remember how it happened (very, very drunk) and I tried to decipher my notes (hastily written as I decided (drunkenly) that this would be good post material) but they are no help at all.
Apparently there was a guy in a knock-off lacoste polo shirt that had a HUGE Boston tattoo on his leg. His "friend" (brown shirt guy) proceeded to call him "Fag", and other names. This perked the ears of many in my group who would just assume join in on the shenanigans. Attacking him with a barrage of insults led to an extremely loud chant of "FUCK TOM BRADY" over and over and over again. One of my girlfriend's hand was sticking out in the aisle and she thought she brushed by his crotch as the bus hit a bump. Upon realizing she didn't, she let everyone know that she hit nothing because this guy "Had no balls!" After screaming this brown shirt guy let us know that his friend was in fact Jewish (I was under the impression that people of that faith weren't supposed to get tattoos, hmph) and "no one would want to fuck those Jewish balls." In his defense, sort of, he defended he love of all things Boston with great passion. Fucker had it coming. And I hope no one tries to "fuck his balls", no matter what his balls believe, because I have a feeling that would be an awkward sexual position.
After they had their share of attacking him (he finally moved to the front of the bus) it was made obvious that everyone at the back were Cowboy's fans. This started more chants of "FUCK TOM BRADY."
After the bus ride was over, we made our long trek down the street to my friends apartment. She happens to live quite close to quite a few frat houses so our chants of "FUCK TOM BRADY" were always echoed. One of our group said that he could sum up the weekend with just those three words.
I wish this story could have been better, but I should have done this last week when it was fresher in my mind. Besides, after last Friday's 40oz party I'm having a hard time remembering my middle name. But next time you are in Texas' capital city, jump on a drunk bus and yell it out for you 'ole pal Lauren.