UNCLE EBENEZER and DJ RIDDLE were shocked and dismayed by Sigma Chi's recent attempt to tear apart campus with their latest party theme: "Party." As long time partygoers, we were offended and outraged that Sigma Chi would host an event specifically mocking our lifestyle.
We held a forum in DJ RIDDLE's dorm room that was attended by UNCLE EBENEZER and DJ RIDDLE's roommate, but he was asleep. Tensions ran high as we discussed the best ways to get our name on the Drudge Report. Pretty soon we had formulated a list of demands to the administration to address the long-ignored needs of the party people, including 1) Establishment of an open monthly meeting among the President's Council, Office of Student Affairs officials and the guy from Sam's Quik Shop. 2) The formation, within one week, of a Department of Party Studies along with certificate programs in Keg Standing and Hooking Up. Oh, and one about Native Americans, too. 3) A ride in Nan's Lamborghini. 4) The immediate return of our Dale Earnhardt trinkets.
Our demands didn't garner much attention, so we added the word diversity in a couple places and pretty soon Nan was summoning us up to her office. As it turned out, she was just having a busy day and wanted us to type up her formal response to the original demands. She dictated, "No, No, No, No, No, Maybe, No, Definitely Not, We'll think about it, No, No, No." Nan explained that academic departments cannot be created so quickly. We mentioned that the Canadian Studies Department was created in the aftermath of Delta Sig's Viva Canada party back in '81, but she told us that if we wanted to study Native Americans we should just get tickets to see the Redskins play.
As we came back from our visit with Nan, we were horrified to see a PT Cruiser marring our Gothic Wonderland. After consoling ourselves that at least it was not a Honda Element, we strolled over to see what all the excitement was about. It turned out there was no excitement, just a few RAs looking proud of the event they were hosting. We asked what was going on and were informed that it was campus-wide intellectual bonding. They did not look amused when UNCLE EBENEZER pointed out that although the Duke Auto Survivor Challenge was designed to bring students together in an academic setting, all it really did was bring four people ridiculously close together and have no effect on anyone else. DJ RIDDLE then got a dirty look from the organizers when he asked what the "Auto" had to do with anything, noting that this was the only event of its kind ever where the prize was not the car that the winner had just spent 30 hours in. "Couldn't you have accomplished the same thing by hosting the Duke Lawn Chair Survivor Challenge?" asked UNCLE EBENEZER. The organizers responded that the car attracted attention and pointed out that they had just had a group of six guys stop by and ask to sleep in the trunk. While these guys were originally assumed to be overly eager freshman, it turns out they were just the residents of 202 Watts Street looking for a warm place to stay for the night.
UNCLE EBENEZER and DJ RIDDLE also stopped by the Chronicle office over the weekend and got to chat with Bridget Newman for a while about the "toilet ratio." We pressed her for the important details of the mathematical formula such as does booting count double and what about peeing in the shower? Before she could answer, we were chastised by a Chronicle staffer for going too long without mentioning Sigma Chi.
To round out our day, UNCLE EBENEZER and DJ RIDDLE decided to take in a little baseball at the 'Dillo. After playing "rock, paper, scissors" to decide who would buy the chips and queso, we suddenly noticed the large number of brand new Red Sox jerseys and hats. Apparently, everyone we know is from Boston... and proud of it... now. So we cheered for the A's loudly and asked if any of them knew how "our Yankees" were doing. The cheers of "Go Nomar and...uh...those other guys too" were soon drowned out by the Cubs fans slurring the words to Take Me Out to the Ballgame. As we turned to look at the bleacher bums in the upper level, we heard the Cubs fans urging their friend to "throw the queso back."
As DJ RIDDLE stumbled to the bathroom to wash up after getting hit square in the eye with queso, UNCLE EBENEZER was left to ponder how this would affect his toilet ratio.
UNCLE EBENEZER and DJ RIDDLE have been holding it in for three days in hopes of improving their toilet ratios.
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