See Also- DEBAUCHERY

That title was witty. Seriously, just take my word for it. I'm too tired to come up with anything better.

Anyway, I promised I'd write something about this. I'm a little out of it tonight, but I'll do what I can. Sunday night, I saw Schunk for the first time since last spring. Somehow, despite the facial hair, he's exactly how I remembered him: loud, obnoxious, and yes, brash. I have to admit, though, the guy can still make me laugh.

So, in our usual tradition, Schunk, Big Guy and I went to Applebee's. First, though, we had to pick up Schunk from his off-campus living space. I call it a "living space" because to call it a house is to give Schunk too much credit. "House" implies a place where people can live. Yes, it's possible to exist there, but I doubt I could live in that rotted-out wooden box. Hell, I wouldn't even use the bathroom in that place. Schunk was bragging about the fact that he has two rooms to himself, a bedroom and a "den." I find it amusing that he calls it a den, when it's really little more than a glorified janitor's closet. Seriously, there's a set of paint rollers on the floor, and there's no light fixture in the room, except for a desk lamp. Well, if Schunk's comfortable in there, I say fine, but sooner or later, I really hope he decides to come out of the closet.

But, I digress. After picking up Schunk from his wooden box, we went to Applebee's. The dinner itself was pretty uneventful, but Schunk and Big Guy both had some amusing stories to share. Between the one about Arias at the party, and Jip getting kidnapped and taken to the Mariat, I think I really need to start hanging out with these people more often. In fact, I should bring my camera.

Other than the stories, Schunk did comment on a strange voicemail message I left him. In it, I said, in a threatening tone, that I would "find him". I kind of just did it to be funny. I guess it worked. He said he was starting to wonder if I was going out to buy a gun and kill him. I said no, but I came very close to buying a knife recently. He laughed and said a knife wouldn't work. To kill him, I'd have to shoot him from a distance. If I tried to get up close and stab him with a knife, he (and I quote) "could just fart and blow me away." I think that's debatable, but considering I already lost a couple pounds this semester, it's within the realm of possibility. Plus, I've been in the room before when Schunk has farted. It's not a good scene.

So, that was about it, unless I'm forgetting something. If I am, I'm sure Schunk will have something to say about it. Until next time, readers, remember, please help control the meathead population. Have your college football player spayed or neutered.