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View Full Version : Fear And Loathing In Athens



saddawg
10-03-2011, 03:47 AM
<br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">If anybody actually reads the crap I write over here in my little corner of Sixpackspeak.com, you will remember my tale of last year's State- UGA game, "Fear and Loathing in Starkvegas."</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">No, this time I did not seek to get to know the Georgia Peach a little better in some frat house. In fact, I didn't even want to take her ass to the game. However, nice guy that I am, I did.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Big mistake.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">First off, I had to be around her worthless ass friends and family. Every time I tried to sneak off with the rest of the Crew, her whining ass sulked up and made life miserable. </span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Friday night sucked so bad I sipped on only two beers for the whole night and worked liked hell to just get away from those maggots and faggots. Needless to say it was a shitty night.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">For once, I showed good sense and didn't get drunk. Had I gotten drunk, it would have been kill or be killed.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">So I was in a bad mood Saturday morning from the start. Thank God for the early start so I didn't have to hang around those fake ass folks too long tailgating. The hour and a half that I did was torture.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I went into the stadium by myself an hour early just to get away. Of course, Ol Peachey sulked up about that. When she got there right at kickoff, she started in on me. </span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I began a slow burn. The way the game was going didn't cheer me up much. </span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">So here I was ,sitting among a bunch of people I can't stand, smack dab in the middle of a section full of the wrong color Bulldogs.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ol Peachey takes a new tack. She decides to start trash talking about the game. Very much to the delight of her loathsome friends and goofy ass family.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Again showing unusually good judgment, I said not a word. That made her redouble her efforts.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mercifully, halftime came. I stood up, announced I was heading to the concession stands and asked everyone would they like anything? I instantly became a waiter in a Mexican restaurant. After taking everybody's order, I headed down.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">And my ass kept walking. Out of the stadium and off the campus.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I walked for a long time, trying to get as far away as I could. I finally got tired of walking and popped into some bar. There I halfheartedly watched what was left of the game.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I sent a text to the rest of my Crew and told them I'd see them at the departure point in the morning. Then, I cut my phone off. </span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Then, I got good and drunk. </span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Long story short I met the Crew outside the place we were staying the next morning. Ol Peachy was nowhere around. I was informed she would not be making the trip back with us. </span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Praise God for small miracles.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Other than about 50 missed calls and texts, which were shockingly rude, from her Saturday, I haven't heard from her since.</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I pray I never will again.</span>

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PBRME
10-06-2011, 03:40 AM
Nice read. Sounds like something I'd do.