I just find this really, really entertaining, and feel obliged to share it...

[Hilary]

If you are offended by vulgar language and massive stupidity, you can just stop right here. Others, prepare yourself for hilarity.

I'd forgotten about this. I've had it on my computer since April, when my friend Swede regailed to me, over the wonder that is Myspace, exactly what happened last new year's eve. I don't feel like editing his grammar, so deal with it. It's written in first person, from Swede's point of view.

"Background:
Sam has spent the past 4 months in Southern Baptist boarding school in New Hampshire and is back in town for 2 weeks of Christmas break. Jeremy has been in the marines for the past 3 years and is back in town for 2 weeks leave. In short, theyre both on a vacation away from hell. A man named Rob had invited us to his new years eve party at his house about 5 minutes outside of the edge of the city. Rob's parties being the shit, we oblige.

As soon as we got there, we walked into the standard scene at the Halls house. Robs young kids are running around crazy while he cooks up some master chef dish. Jeremy remarks something about Rob being "queer bait" then proceeds to raid his fridge for beers. I love this house.

The Rest of the Paul family shows up a few minutes later. Diner is served and it is AMAZING. Rob is my god.

There are a lot of small things that happened during the time between 8 PM and midnight.  They dont exactly flow together so Im just going to list them in bulleted form.

*  POP!  "Guyyyyys! Stop it!"

Sam and I are throwing small sized fire crackers at his little sisters in the woods. Though it is dark, we can hear their voices and from that know which direction to launch them.

SAM  "Hehehe. Hand me some more."

He is fumbling in the dark.

ANNA-MICHAEL  "Are you guys done?"

We can hear her walking back towards us. What a dumbass.

SWEDE  "No."
SAM  "Um...Yeah...Sure" (His face is now illuminated from the sporadic glow of ignited firecracker fuse)
ANNA-MICHAEL (walking closer)  "Okay good! That wasnt fun-"

POP!

The dark woods are briefly lit by the explosion. I see what looks like a still frame of Anna-Michael jumping in fear.

ANNA-MICHAEL  "GUYS!!!"

POP! POP!

This occupied our time for about an hour or so. Isnt hazing little children fun?

*  Rob Shows me and Sam his new 1930's police issue revolver that he got at a flea market. All three of us are relative gun enthusiasts, so I enjoyed this.

*  Jeremy drops a lit cherry bomb into the hood of my jacket. Next time you see me wearing my grey hoodie, look for the hole.

*  Boredom leads to my calling Scarlet.

SWEDE  "Do you like Sam?"
SCARLET  "Um, yeah."
SWEDE  "And do you like me?"
SCARLET  "Of course."
SWEDE  "Well then you need to haul ass over here.  You could meet Sam's older brother Jeremy.  Hes like me and Sam, except exceptionally drunk at the moment."
SCARLET  "Hahaha.  I cant right now."
SWEDE  "Fucking Tyler has no precedent to hanging out with me.  Get your ass over here."  (I would later learn that Scarlet and Tyler had broken up about 4 hours before this conversation.  This is why I am going to hell)
SCARLET  "I seriously cant, Im at a friends house."
JEREMY  (Having overheard this, he leans over towards the phone)  "HOW OLD IS SHE?"
SCARLET  "Um...sixteen."
JEREMY  "WERE ON OUR WAY!"
SWEDE  "Does the term age of consent mean anything to you Jeremy?!"
SCARLET  "I love you guys."

*  Rob, Sam and I try to get a dud firework to start by, I am not kidding, pouring gasoline on it then making a trail of about 15 feet and lighting it all.  The sad thing?  It never did go off.

*  Sam and I join Jeremy and Rob on a beer run.  I realize this if the first beer run Ive ever been on with my friends that wasnt illegal.  Sam and I wait in the car until I realize this is the same Lowes food Amy works at.  Woot cell phones.

SWEDE  "Are you at work?"
AMY  "Nope.  Whats up?"
SWEDE  "Shit.  Why didnt you sell away your life on new years and work the late shift?"
AMY  "I did!  I just left about 20 minutes ago!"
SWEDE  (To the sky) "DAMN YOU FATE!"
AMY  "Should I even ask?"
SAM  (at the same time as Amy) "Im not even gonna ask."

*  I vaguely remember me and Sam finding some vital fluid leaking out of the car in large quantities while Jeremy and Rob were still in the store.  Im not really sure what we did about it (if anything).


Around midnight, Sam, Jeremy and I start setting off large sized fireworks.  Thats when we hear it.

BAM!

Unless you dont notice stupid shit like I do, fireworks have the tendency to make a pop sound.  Anything that makes a boom is usually a gun or a real bomb.  Even though all three of us know this (Jeremy was with the marines in Falujah for Christs sake), we dont put two and two together.  We decide to head towards the front of the house where the noise came from, assuming Rob has some special fireworks or something of that nature.

We step around the corner into the front yard and BAM!

Rob is firing a 12-guage shotgun.

ROB  "Happy new year!"
SAM  "Fucking A"
SWEDE  "You mind if I shoot that thing?"
ROB  "Sure (hands it to me).  You know how?"
SWEDE  "All my relatives live in South Carolina and Texas."
ROB  "Your good to go then!"

He hands me some shells.  The Shotgun is very nice.  An old pump action made out of wood and steel.  While I slide the shells into the magazine tube, he tells me that it is a 50 year old Ithica shotgun used in WWII.  He finishes off with "just make sure you dont point it in that direction.  Theres a house and some kids and, yeah, I really dont wanna go to jail."

I pull the gun up to my shoulder, point it skyward, and fire.  The kick is not as much as I remember from the last time I shot a 12-guage (age 13).  I fire a few more times then hand it off to Sam.  Rob watches, happy that someone else enjoys ringing in the New Year with firearms.

All the while we are doing this, Jeremy has just been watching.  Not saying a word, but watching with a look of amazement in his eyes.  He finally speaks up.

JEREMY  "Swede, man, does that thing kick very much?"
SWEDE  "What do you mean?"
JEREMY  "Well, Ive never fired a 12-guage before."
SWEDE  "Are you fucking kidding me?  Youve been in the marines for three years now."
JEREMY  "Yeah, but we just use a lot of rifles and explosives.  There isnt much with shotguns.  Ive heard it kicks enough to knock you down."
SWEDE  "Dude, Im 5' 7" and 110 pounds.  Your fine."
JEREMY  "You sure man?"
SWEDE  "No worries.  Its cool."

He still looks nervous.  Let me point out that this was the affect of the alcohol.  Jeremy is normally strong willed and a calm yet assertive guy.  Imagine me, but more hot headed and slightly cooler.

JEREMY  "Hey Rob, you...you mind if I shoot that a couple of times?"
ROB  "Of course Jeremy!  Help yourself!  Heres some shells. (fumbles around in his pockets then realizes he has none)  I think Ive got a few more in the truck."

He walks the 20 or so feet to his white truck and begins to root through the bed, his back turned to us, looking for more shotgun shells.

At this moment I feel something round, cyndrilical, and about 3 inches long in my pocket.  Got one more Jeremy.  I wait until he puts down his 8th beer before I throw it to him.  He catches it, then half shucks the gun and loads it directly into the chamber.

SAM  "Jeremy, pull a fifty!"

This was obviously meant as a joke.  Sam was referring to the album cover of the rapper fifty cent, showing him standing like the statue of liberty, except in place of a torch he is holding a 12-guage shotgun.  Jeremy gets that look in his eye like 'thats a GREAT idea!' and poses.  He actually resembles the album cover a lot, minus the big doofy grin on his face.

JEREMY  "Happy new year." 

BAM!

The shotgun flies downward out of Jeremys hand, striking his knee then coming to a spinning stop in the grass and mud at our feet.

Jeremy swears loudly while Sam and I drop to the ground in laughter.  Rob Hall wheels around to find his prized shotgun in the mud.  (I felt bad about getting his nice gun dirty)

ROB HALL  "Jeremy!  What happened?"

Jeremy doesnt want to admit to Rob that he had acted like a jackass while operating a gun.

JEREMY  "I...I dont know!  One minute I was holding it and the next, it was on the ground!"

This was about the time we decided we should leave.  Not because we had caused trouble (we had but no one minded), but because we didnt want to cause more.  (we had probably overstayed our welcome too)

We get into the car when Sam stops and starts to run back to the house.

SAM  "I forgot my shoes! Just pull the car up to the porch, ill be out in a minute."
SWEDE  "Jeremy, you good to drive?"
JEREMY  "Yeah man, Im fine."
SWEDE  "You sure?"
JEREMY  "Im in a transportation unit in the marines. My JOB is to drive drunk."
SWEDE  "Fair enough."

He puts the keys in the ignition, does the gear change, and looks back to make sure he doesnt hit anything while backing up.

VROOOM!

The car doesnt move. He stomps on the accelerator a couple more times.

VROOOOOOOOOOOM!......VROOOOOOOM!

JEREMY  "What the fuck?!"
SWEDE  "Your in neutral buddy."
JEREMY  "...Maybe you should drive."
SWEDE  "Just maybe."

Sam comes up to the car and gets in. For 10 beers in his system, Jeremy is a really good driver (Its fine!, I was wearing my seatbelt). We make it home within half an hour and begin to dish out the fireworks. I need to explain about these fireworks. They are not your regular bitch tits fireworks (yes, this is a perfectly valid description of fireworks), these are South Carolina mortars. Theyre about the size of a tangerine with 8 inches of fuse sticking out. It contains two explosions, the first is small and quiet, the second is very loud and sends burning sparks out in a 40 foot radius. The idea is that you stick it in the tube baseplate it came with and light the fuse. The first explosion shoots the mortar out of the tube and 80 feet or so in the air. The second explodes high in the sky and your supposed to ooh and ahh over it or whatever people do when properly using fireworks.


Total, we have 24 mortars and 4 tubes with base plates. We ditch 3 of the tubes and dish out the rest. Sam and I are wearing cargo pants so we divide up the mortars, 12 to each of us divided into 6 per pocket. Ryan and Jeremy are wearing jeans so Ryan sticks the tube under his shirt and Jeremy loads up on beers. He realizes he no longer has the responsibility of driving us, so he goes for broke, and by broke I mean piss faced drunk. When we depart, he has a Heineken in his left jeans pocket, a Budweiser in the right, and a corona in hand.  Ryan later told me that Jeremy leaned over to him and whispered "so when we get caught, you and me just go the other way from those two and were safe."

We walk to the nearby BP.  I really dont remember much about BP except that the homeless lady who always rides her pink bicycle around was passed out on some pepsi crates.  Ryan has later insisted that there was a guy on acid behind the counter.  I honestly dont doubt it.

We head to Hanes park and make our way to the football field.  Jeremy decides that walking with beers in his front jean pockets will make him sterile.  He finishes off the corona, opens up the Heineken, and gives the Budweiser to Ryan.  Now we have a fifteen year old drinker among us.  I mentally prepare myself to bullshit my way through cops.   

After much discussion, we come up with an elaborate and perfect plan that would go down as history.  We will go up into west end, find a party, and steal kegs.  Full kegs.  I dont even drink and I thought this was brilliant.  We go to a new years eve party at 3 AM, when everyone is comatose drunk and too out of it to retaliate, and steal gallons upon gallons of beer.  Over the next few days, Jeremy would be in a constant and unhindered angry drunken rage while I would have an excellent time following him around and postponing his eventual arrest.  Whats not to like?

We lack the motivation to leave the park to find a party.  The keg stealing idea is aborted.

In my boredom, I climb up on top of the nearby jump pad used by the cross country team. It has a tarp over it to keep it from getting wet. Someone has left a giant 3 by 4 foot block of Styrofoam in the middle of it, so all the water has collected at that point, creating a 3 foot deep puddle. My intentions are to get the Styrofoam block out, the idea being that we could stick a mortar into the middle of it and hopefully blow it up.

SWEDE  "Hey Jeremy! Gimme a hand!"

Ryan and Jeremy push me into the puddle. It is 28 degrees out and I am soaked up to my knees.  One day, when they own cars, I will salt their gas tanks.

JEREMY  "Hey closest queen! Bet you cant knock out a stadium light!"

And so it begins. Surprisingly, extremist southern Baptist boarding school brainwashing was no match for the already corrupted lifestyle of Sam Paul, defined by a childhood centered around Me, Jeremy and Ryan.

Sam takes the baseplate in his hands and points it up to the lights above, the back of the tubing lined up directly with his face. For someone whos spent 3 years in the military, you would think Jeremy would know a catchy marine jingle or something about not sticking explosives in front of ones face.

SAM  "Load me!"

Sam and I have a long history of being a two man team of destruction/shit ideas so I take a mortar and shove it down the full 10 inches of tube. Sam is aiming at the lights by looking down the side of the tube.

SWEDE  "Loaded!"

SAM  "Ignite!"

SWEDE  "Fuse ignited! (I light it then toss the fuse back into the tube) FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

JEREMY  "FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

RYAN  "FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

SAM  "aw fuck..."

POP!!!.......BOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

The explosion is short of the lights by maybe five feet. Out of range.

SAM  "My hand is crippled."

His hand is dotted with small amounts of blood. I pull out a small flashlight and we all crowd around. There are at least nine very deep gashes in the palms of his hands. The plastic baseplate, not able to withstand the brute force of the first explosion, shattered in Sams hands, driving pieces of itself into his skin.

We look around for the tube and find it...without a baseplate.

JEREMY  "FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW!?"
SWEDE  "Calm down dude! The tube is fine! See? The bottom is still plugged. It still works."
JEREMY  "Oh. Tits."

The end. ^^ And for those concerned, Sam's hand is fine now. *sigh*

[Eibborn]

Bwahaha, you guys are all morons! XD Oh man, drunken shenanigans.

[Stygian]

It's good to see that you can relate to people, even if you are from completely different parts of the world. I am of course assuming that you are not a real swede...

[Hilary]

Well, he sort of his-- his mom is Swedish. His real name isn't Swede, but that's what we've called him since around the third grade... his real name is John, I think, but he didn't like it and wanted to come up with something more interesting. I don't know how Swede got picked, but I guess he liked it...

[Stygian]

Oh. In that case, keep on passing them down...

[God-Beast]

crazy stuff, hahaahaha...you can even see this on a movie screen! XD

[Zedd]

Peachy