A lot of people say that with age comes maturity; however that is not the case with this Champion. It seems that the older I get, the more absurd my actions become after I have a few beers. Instead of someday growing into a wise and mature old man with the look and manner of Mr. Rogers, I’ll probably end up being more like this guy:
Allow me to elaborate - most of the tales I will be sharing with my readers happened when I was in my late teens and early twenties. Some of the debauchery and immoral self-indulgences I will be describing in future posts will be pulled from the deepest and darkest corners of my personal archives. Some might be from the past few years, when I was savaging the Oneonta landscape with my fraternity brothers and fellow champions. Some might be from High School, when I thought (correctly) that I was an untouchable warlord. One thing I can always count on no matter what, is that whenever my life starts to be boring for a length of time, and I feel like a real adult, nature will step in to restore balance to the universe. God wants me to be a Champion, and he will set the cosmos back to order when things start to become unaligned.
With that being said, a couple of months ago I was sitting in my apartment in Oneonta staring out the window and pondering my life. It was about 4pm, the weather was nice, I went to all my classes that day, and it was Thursday. For the past few weeks, I seemed to be going through the same old routine. In other words, I needed to start drinking as soon as possible. So, being a champion, I sprinted without rest to the corner store to buy a few beers. After buying a thirty pack of Bud Light, I sprinted back to my apartment, somehow at a faster pace than before even though I had the extra beer weight.
The second I walked through the door, I pounded a few beers just to get my blood flowing. After about fifteen minutes, a couple of my roommates burst into the room.
“Damn, what time did you start drinking?” asked my roommate, as he glanced at the nine empty cans strewn about my room.
“Fifteen minutes ago...pussy,” I replied.
“Well, why are you drinking Bud Lights?”
“Why the fuck not, it's Thursday afternoon.”
“Yea, but its CINCO DE MAYO!!!”he screamed like a gay mariachi. "Where's the Corona?"
The best part of this exchange was the fact that I had no idea I was actually supposed to be drinking for Cinco De Mayo. I was honestly just pounding brews back because that’s what champions do when they’re bored.
After having this sudden epiphany, I sprinted back to the store to buy a liter of Tequila and sprinted back to my apartment immediately after the purchase was made. All of this sprinting was really making my throat dry and my lungs hurt, so I threw back a few shots and lit a bogey. Then, I got really, really, REALLY fucked up. I vaguely remember wandering around Oneonta with a group of friends and stopping at various apartments to claim Lords Rights on all of their food, alcohol, and women.
As the sun started to go down, I was on the verge of a total blackout. Luckily for me and my brave companions, my fraternity was throwing an open party. Naturally, I showed up late and was the drunkest and oldest man there. When I get that drunk, there is a chance that one of several different personas will come to the surface of my personality. They range in demeanor from the peaceful and nervous jiff head to the raging destroyer. On this night, I was more of a maniac who was basically molesting any girl who came near me while dancing. After being Fresh Prince on the dance floor for a good hour, I decided to leave the party and go to the bars.
I left the apartment, beer in hand, and began to descend the long and steep stairwell that leads to the street below. As I reached the bottom, I noticed a taxi heading towards me at the precise moment I wanted to cross the street. I had a sudden urge to walk in the middle of the road and stop the aforementioned vehicle. Now, a normal person has that little angel on one shoulder and that little devil on the other shoulder, trying to persuade the conscience to do what can be considered right or wrong. Not me. I have two little champions on each shoulder rooting me on at all times.
So, I charged into the middle of the street with my hand out, forcing the cab to stop. Unfortunately, a cop just happened to be right behind the taxi. Next thing I know I have handcuffs on my wrists and I’m screaming, “Ya did it again Greg! Ya did it again!”
I’m almost certain that cop was there because of some divine intervention, because my life was getting a little too boring and adult-like up until that point. I ended up being thrown into a holding cell, violently shaking the bars and screaming about lawyers and civil rights, until I was bailed out by a young lady. Then I had sex with her. Champion.
Actual Police Report:
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