The Shout on Madero (Part One of The Infinite Adventures of Gene-Kendricke and Marty)

It was a chilly September evening back in 2006. Desperation hung in the air as Desert Ridge High’s football aspirations were down by one touchdown with their homecoming foe, Carl Hayden, milking time off the clock, their offense still on the field.

Three friends, Marty, Gene, and Drake were one of the many fans who were witnessing the inevitable defeat that Homecoming Night. Drake was furiously biting his nails; Gene was close to tears ‘cause, well… ‘cause he’s soft like that, and Marty, well, not quite sure what he was doing, but one could be pretty sure it had something to do with being nervous about the game.
Carl Hayden was on the verge of taking their final snap. As number 13, the quarterback, went behind center, the urgency that gnawed on Gene took a toll. He decided to take one for the team, the school. In a frantic bid for a distraction, when the ball was snapped he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Number 13,…….I LOVE YOU!!!”

Startled, number 13 stopped his back stepping. That gave a quick defensive lineman on the Desert Ridge squad a chance to sack him. At that moment a miracle happened, the type of miracle that would be comparable to rain turning into wine, having a 2.9 GPA then managing to get a full ride to Princeton, or having your girlfriend’s uterus disappear for one night (I only jest). The ball popped loose! FUMBLE! An observant cornerback snatched the ball, clutching it like it was the Holy Child himself and every Carl Hayden uniform was one of Herod’s men. He stepped up the gas and rushed to the end zone with all his might. As he crossed into that blessed rectangle of glory a loud, cohesive cheer filled the red and black faithful.

All was well in east Mesa.

College Dorm Plans

I said I had a plan for what to do with our dorm room. I wasn't lying.

Shivisms

Many of you are wondering why we have christened our magnificent cyber home “The Party at Shivs”. You see Marty (IRA) and I have a dear friend who we hold dear to our hearts named Shiv. Shiv is a great guy, he’s honest, intelligent, extremely polite, and tremendously humble, and he’s completely oblivious to his own awesomeness. What makes cool is his own way of doing and saying things, mannerisms, except that would not make them original, which they are, so I would like to present the Shivisms of Shiv,

A) Dialect
Shiv has his own dialect of English with its own vocabulary and syntax

1) “mad dash”: a quick run
2) “the beast is home”: Shiv’s return home
3) “too good”: expresses great joy
4) “misfortune!”: great dismay
5) “danger!/My God!”: said of a catastrophe
6) “Your hair is too good”: your hair has formed into a point and looks awful

B) Physical Reflexes

1) Shiv leg kicks when he laughs, and puts his hand on his chest
2) The ability to make an appointment seem like a late appearance, only to calmly walk by as the clock strikes
3) Spurtability, he has the ability to run at a very high pace, spontaneously. Currently being studied by biologists and physicist

C) Appearance

1) Tall frame that towers over the meek
2) Beard that makes jock stubbles look like pubic hair
3) Ability to put on formal attire in no time at all.

So in memory of our good friend, we have dubbed this blog “The Party at Shivs” because we constantly have saturnalian parties at his place, without him knowing. We will continue to honor his great character and memory till he actually calls us or meets us, and tells us to back the f**k off.

Lecturer Comments

Not sure how many people have already seen this.

Warning: One cuss word (s--t).

Last Year...

Last year, an idea was born. An idea of awesomeness. An idea of liquid awesomeness, if you will. It was a notebook. But not just any mere notebook. A notebook of awesomeness, liquid awesomeness, even. In it was contained the records of two revolutionaries, known as LoF and IRA. But the notebook was badly beaten, and LoF repeatedly forgot said notebook at home.

Technology has provided them with new and dangerous means of disseminating the sometimes lame, sometimes comical information that the Great Notebook contained.

As such, the blog is born.

Prelude...

Hey! Reader, yeah, I'm being distracted from typing an excellent prelude from annoying people talking about wierd Japanese pop-stars. Anyway I can't think of a good start so Marty!!!...