This week I’m revisiting my infamous first summer in O.C. In this one, I’ll discuss some of the various events, contests, and competitions we engaged in. In this house of buffoons, we were constantly seeking new and inventive ways to entertain ourselves, one up each other, and make others vomit. It seemed like each day brought a new and creative idea on how to do so. Most of these events were bizarre at best. Some were downright disgusting, others were dangerous, and most were shameless. What they all had in common is that they were childish, incredibly stupid, and they all seemed like a good idea at the time.
We were essentially like that cast of “Jackass”, minus the camera crew, the money, and the gay innuendos. Retrospectively speaking, I really wish we had the foresight to have filmed these events. Who knew back in the eighties that one could make a very lucrative living by engaging in such debauchery and filming it for the entertainment of others? I for one didn’t think there would be a market for it. If I had purchased a video camera instead of a fake I.D. and a beer tap, perhaps I would have one of my minions writing this right now in the bowels of my mansion while I dictate. Instead, I’m sitting at a Wal-Mart brand tack board desk at 3:00 a.m. with a glass of vodka typing away as my wife and children sleep because this is my only alone time.
I should make it known out of fairness that not all of the roommates partook in these events. The three females were usually exempt by default, though they were always welcome to join. The more sane amongst us often just sat and observed while laughing hysterically as we made fools of ourselves. Not all of these events are suitable for print, so as incredulous as it will seem shortly, I’ve whittled them down to the ones I think I can get away with. Once the book deal comes through though, I’ll give full disclosure. Some of these contests, I’ll go into graphic detail about, while others I’ll simply give you the name of the competition and let you fill in the blanks yourself—in the interest of decorum.
Every day we tried to raise the insanity bar, usually with painfully astonishing success. I don’t really recall which of us came up with most of these ideas, but…oh, okay, it was me; they were all run by committee, however. Many of the following mental images may not be suitable for people of rational thought. You’ve been warned.
One of the more popular events, at least for a little while was one we called Ceiling Fan Roulette. One of the ceiling fans in this apartment, for some reason had a setting that caused it to rotate at roughly the speed of an airplane propeller. While we were all seated in the living room one day, with aforementioned fan set on high, one of us—it doesn’t matter whom—thought it would be fun to toss an empty beer can into the blades. Needless to say, the can was launched at a ridiculously high rate of speed into one of the walls. For some reason, this was quality rainy day entertainment for us.
It went on for a while with us placing bets on which wall, or roommate would be hit by the aluminum projectile. Eventually, the sport evolved, and before you knew it we had upped the ante and changed the rules. Now, all participants had to strip down to only a pair of shorts and stand around the room with their backs against a wall as the can was tossed into the fan. The sport then quickly graduated from empty beer cans to steel tipped darts while other rules remained intact. It was short-lived after that rule change, though. Several puncture wounds and a few near-miss eye gauges made us rethink things. Once the room and walls started looking like the hospitality suite at a Manson family get together, we retired the sport.
Before we move on, it should be noted that there were no prizes or awards for any of these competitions other than bragging rights, escaping with your life, and possibly being exempt from having to pay for any alcohol that night. Seemingly little to gain, and yet we went at it with the vigor of an East German Olympian.
Another popular pastime in our house was what we referred to as: Birthday Suit Ballet. As the name would imply, this entailed one of the roommates—it doesn’t matter which one—to be adorned solely in the costume in which he entered this world. He would then leap and frolic through the house while humming classical tunes and ritualistically dancing in time to them. This usually only occurred while we were having parties and the place was packed. The more attendees, the more likely the hopping streaker would appear. And yes, I did in fact use the word “frolic”. His most popular number was The Nudecracker Suite. This was the most requested piece, with the highest degree of difficulty, and more often than not, was the encore for the evening. Thankfully for all parties involved, at summer’s end this also proved to be his Swan Song. The “Art” was retired forever. For some unknown reason, viewing the reactions of shoulder-to-shoulder partygoers as they are surprised by a naked dude jumping amongst them, NEVER got old.
Sticking with The Emperor’s New Clothes theme, another fun and entertaining event was Anatomical Magic Show. We performed various complicated tricks by contorting certain body parts. I truly wish I could say I was making this stuff up. This event unfortunately WAS occasionally captured on film, hence arriving at the reason why no one from that apartment ever got into politics.
Well, I believe I’ve provided you with enough palette slaying images and caused enough emotional distress for one week. We’ve only scratched the surface on contests from that summer, so stay tuned for more to come later on. I haven’t even touched on the ones that involve bodily functions.
Thanks for playing along.
Until Next Week,
Syd Nichols
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