-----Original Message-----
From: 	"Marcantel MM (Mitch)" <MMMarcantel@equiva.com>@ENRON [mailto:IMCEANOTES-+22Marcantel+20MM+20+28Mitch+29+22+20+3CMMMarcantel+40equiva+2Ecom+3E+40ENRON@ENRON.com] 
Sent:	Thursday, August 30, 2001 8:45 AM
To:	Hull, Bryan; Landry, Chad; Lenhart, Matthew; 'Tim Blanchard (E-mail)'; 'Val Generes (E-mail)'; 'Kevin A Boone (E-mail)'
Subject:	FW: GAME DAY...could be one of the funniest emails ever. especial	ly if you're a football fan or a southerner.


 
 
> 
>  > > >>This  is pretty damn funny. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>University of Texas fan on Game Day  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>This is pretty long, but it's HYSTERICAL! If  you've ever been drunk 
> at 
> a 
>  > > >>sporting  event, or been with someone who has, you can relate.  This 
> is 
>  > an 
>  > > >>e-mail from some guy named J.D.Horne, who,  according to the 
messages 
>  > that 
>  > >  >>were attached to this, is not a 21 year-old frat boy, but an  
attorney 
> of 
>  > > >>indeterminate age. He sent it to his friend  Brian Brice and it got 
>  > >  >>forwarded 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>around the country. You have to  give the guy some props for being 
>  > >  >>self-deprecating...but I hope I never meet him on game day.  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>A chronology of events for Saturday,  December 4, 1999, and the 
early 
>  > > >>morning 
>   > > >> 
>  > > >>hours of  Sunday, December 5, 1999: 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>6:00 Arise, play  the Eyes of Texas and Texas Fight at full-freaking 
>  > blast 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>6:20 Get in car,  drive to New Braunfels 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>7:30 Tee off (me  and a buddy were the FIRST tee-time of the 
morning) 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>8:50 Turn 9 (crack open first  beer) 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>8:53 Crack open second beer 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>8:58 Crack open...(you get the idea) 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>10:30 Finish 18 (holes, as well as beers), sign scorecard  for 
> smoooooth 
>   > 95 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>10:35 Headed for San Antonio (Alamodome -  Nebraska vs Texas) 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>10:50 Buy three 18-packs for pre-  and post-game festivities 11:10 
We 
>  > > >>decide 
>   > > >> 
>  > > >>we don't  have enough booze, so we double-back to a liquor store and 
> buy 
>  > > >>the  
>  > > >>good ol' 750 ml plastic bottle  "Traveler" Jim Beam 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>11:50 Arrive at the tailgate spot.  Awesome day. Not a single cloud 
in 
>  > the 
>  > >  >>sky. About 70 degrees. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>11:55 I decide  that we're going to kick the shit out of Nebraska. 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>11:56 I tell my first Nebraska fan to go fuck himself.  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>12:15 The UT band walks by on the way to the  Alamodome. We're on 
the 
>  > > >>second 
>   > > >>floor of a two-story parking garage on the corner (a couple  hundred 
> of 
>  >  > >>us). 
>  > > >>We're  hooting and hollering like wildmen. The band doubles back to 
> the 
>  > > >>street  right below us and serenades us with Texas Fight and The> 
Eyes 
> of 
>   > > >>Texas. AWESOME MOMENT. 
>  >  > >> 
>  > > >>12:25 In the  post-serenade serendipity, 50-100 grown men are 
bumping 
>  > >  >>chests 
>  > > >>with one  another, each and every one of them now secure and certain 
> of 
>  > the 
>  > > >>fact that we are going to kick the shit out  of Nebraska. 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>11:00 The Nebraska band walks by  on the way to the Alamodome. 
Again, 
> we 
>  > > >>hoot  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>and holler like wildmen. Again, the band  doubles back and stops 
right 
>  > > >>below 
>   > > >>us to serenade us, this time, however, with the Nebraska  fight 
songs. 
>  >  > >>Although somewhat impressed by their spirit and verve, we  remain 
>  > convinced 
>  > > >>that we are going to kick the shit out of  Nebraska. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>1:30 I begin the walk to the Alamodome,  somehow managing to stuff 
the 
>  > > >>"Traveler" and 11 cans of beer into my  pants. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>1:47 I am in line surrounded by Nebraska  fans. They are taunting 
me. 
>   
>  > am 
>   > > >>taunting back, still certain that we are going to kick the  shit out 
> of 
>  >  > >>Nebraska. I decide to challenge a particularly vocal Nebraska  fan 
to 
>  >  play 
>  > > >>what I now call and  will forever be remembered as "Cell-Phone Flop 
>  Out." 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>Remember flop out for a dollar? The rules  are similar. I tell this 
>  > >  >>Nebraska 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>jackass that if he's so confident  in his team, he should "flop out" 
> his  
>  > > >>cell 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>phone RIGHT NOW and make plane reservations to Phoenix for  the 
Fiesta 
>  > >  >>Bowl. 
>  > > >>And then I  spoke these memorable words: "And not those damn 
>  refundable 
>  > > >>tickets, either!  You request those non-reundable, non-transferrable 
>  > > >>sons-of-bitches!" He backs down. He is  unworthy. I call Southwest 
>  >  Airlines 
>  > > >>and buy two  tickets to Phoenix, non-refundable and 
non-transferrable. 
>  > >  >>Price: 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>$712. He is humbled. He lowers his  head in shame. 
>  > > >>I raise my  cell phone in triumph to the cheers of hundreds of Texas 
>  > fans. 
>  > >  >>I 
>  > > >>am KING and these  are my subjects. I distribute the 11 beers in my 
>  pants 
>  > > >>to 
>  > > >>the cheering masses. I RULE the pre-game  kingdom. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>2:34 Kickoff. Brimming with confidence, I  open the Traveler and 
pour 
>  my 
>  > > >>first stiffy.  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>2:45 I notice something troubling: Nebraska  is big. Nebraska is 
fast. 
>  > > >>Nebraska is very pissed off at Texas.  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>3:01 The first quarter mercifully ends. 9  yards total offense for 
>  > >  >>Texas.Zero 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>first downs for Texas. I'm still  talking shit. I pour another 
stiffy 
>  > from 
>  > >  >>the Traveler. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>3:36 Four minutes  to go in the first half: the Traveler is a dead 
>  > soldier. 
>  > >  >>I 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>buy my first $5 beer from the Alamodome  merchants. While I am 
> standing 
>  > in 
>  > >  >>line, a center snap nearly decapitates Major Applewhite and rolls  
out 
> of 
>  > > >>the 
>  >  > >> 
>  > > >>end zone.  Safety. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>3:56 Halftime score: Nebraska 15, Texas 0. I  wish I had another 
>  > Traveler.  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>4:11 While urinating next to a Nebraska fan  in the bathroom at 
> halftime, 
>  > I 
>  > >  >>attempt to revive the classic Brice- ism from the South Bend  
> bathroom: 
>  > >  >>"Hey, 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>buddy, niiiiiiiiice cock." He is  unamused. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>4:21 I buy my 2nd and 3rd $5 beer from the  Alamodome merchants. I 
> share 
>  > my 
>  > >  >>beer with two high school girls sitting behind me. Surprisingly,  
they 
>  > are  
>  > > >>equipped with a flask full of  vodka. I send them off to purchase 
>  >  Sprites, 
>  > > >>so  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>that we may consume their vodka. I have not  lost faith.  Nebraska 
is 
> a 
>  > > >>bunch  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>of pussies. 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>4:51 No more vodka. The girls sitting behind me have fled for  their 
>  > lives. 
>  > > >>I 
>  >  > >> 
>  > > >>purchase two  more $5 beers from the Alamodome merchants. 
>   > > >> 
>  > > >>5:18  Score is Nebraska 22, Texas 0. I am beginning to lose 
faith.This 
>  > > >>normally  would trouble me, but I am too drunk to see the football 
> field. 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>5:27 I call Southwest Airlines:  "I'm sorry, sir. Those tickets have 
> been  
>  > > >>confirmed and are non-refundable  and non-transferrable." 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>5:37 I try to  start a fight with every person behind the concession 
>  > > >>counter. 
>   > > >> 
>  > > >>As it  turns out, the Alamodome has a policy that no beer can be 
sold 
>  > when 
>  > > >>there is less than 10 minutes on the game  clock. I am enraged by 
this 
>  > > >>policy. I ask loudly: "Why the fuck didn't  you announce last call 
> over 
>  > the 
>  > >  >>fucking PA system??!!" 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>5:49 Back in my  seats, I am slumped in my chair in defeat. All of a 
>  > > >>sudden, 
>   > > >>the Texas crowd goes absolutely nuts.  "Whazzis?," I  mutter, 
awaking 
>  >  from 
>  > > >>my 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>coma, "Iz we winnig? Did wez scort?" Alas, the answer is > >  >>no, 
>  > > >>we were not  winning and we did not score. The largest (by far) 
cheer 
> of 
>   > > >>the 
>  > > >>day  from the Texas faithful occurred when the handlers were walking 
> back 
>  > > >>to  
>  > > >>the tunnel and Bevo (the Texas  mascot) stopped to take a gargantuan 
> shit  
>  > > >>all 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>over the letters "S", "K",and "A" in the "Nebraska" spelled out  in 
> their 
>  >  > >>end 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>zone. I cheer wildly. I pick up he  empty Traveler bottle and stick 
my 
>  > > >>tongue 
>   > > >> 
>  > > >>in it. I  am thirsty. 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>6:16 Nebraska fans are going  berserk as I walk back to the truck. I 
>  >  would 
>  > > >>taunt them with some  off-color remarks about their parentage, but I 
>  am 
>  > too 
>  > > >>drunk to form complete sentences. With my  last cognitive thought of 
> the 
>  > > >>evening, I take solace in the fact that if  we had not beaten them 
in 
>  > > >>October, they would be playing Florida State  for the national 
>  > >  >>championship. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>6:30 Back in the  car. On the way back to Austin for the basketball 
>  game. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>8:00 Texas-Arizona tip off. We can still  salvage the day! I crack 
> open 
> a 
>  > > >>beer. It is  warm. I don't care. 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>7:12 We have stopped for gas. I am  hungry. I go inside the store.I 
> walk  
>  > > >>past 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>the beer frig. I notice a Zima. I've never had a Zima. I wonder  if 
> it's 
>  >  > >>any 
>  > > >>good. I  pull a Zima from the frig.  I twist the top off and drink 
the 
>  > Zima 
>  > > >>in three  swallows. Zima sucks. I  replace the empty bottle in the 
> frig.  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>7:17 There is a Blimpie Subs in the store. I  walk to where the 
>  > ingredients  
>  > > >>are, where the person usually  makes the sub. There is no one there. 
I 
>  > lean 
>  > >  >>over the counter and scoop out half a bucket of black olives. I  eat 
>  > them. 
>  > > >>I 
>  >  > >>am still hungry. I lean further over the counter and grab  
> approximately 
>  > >  >>two 
>  > > >>pounds of  Pastrami. I walk out of the store grunting and eating 
>  > Pastrami. 
>  > >  >>The patrons in the store fear me. I don't care. 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>8:01 We are in South Austin. I have been drinking warm beer  and 
> singing 
>  >  > >>Brooks and Dunn tunes for over an hour. My truck-mate is tired  of 
my 
>  > >  >>singing. He suggests that perhaps Brooks and Dunn have written  
other 
>  > good  
>  > > >>songs besides "You're Going to  Miss Me When I'm Gone" and "Neon 
Moon" 
>  > and 
>  > >  >>that maybe listening to only those two songs, ten times each was   
> bit 
>  > >  >>excessive. Perhaps, he suggests, Icould just let the CD play on  its 
> own. 
>  >   
>  > > >>tell him to fuck off and  restart "Neon Moon." 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>8:30 We arrive at  the Erwin Center. My truckmate, against my loud 
and 
>  > > >>profane  protestations, parks on the top floor of a nearby parking 
>  > garage. 
>  > >  >>I 
>  > > >>tell him he's an  idiot. I tell him we will never get out. I tell 
him 
> we 
>   > > >>may 
>  > > >>as  well pitch a fucking tent here. He ignores me. I think he's 
still 
>  > > >>pissed  
>  > > >>about the Brooks and Dunn tunes. I  whistle "Neon Moon" loudly. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>8:47 I am  rallying. I have 4 warm beers stuffed in my pants. We're 
> going 
>  > > >>to  
>  > > >>kick the shit out of  Arizona. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>9:11 Halftime score: Texas 31, Arizona 29. I  am pleased. I go to 
the 
>  > > >>bathroom to pee for the 67th time today. I  giggle to myself because 
> of 
>  > the 
>  > >  >>new opportunity to do "the bathroom Brice." There are no Arizona  
fans 
> in 
>  > > >>the 
>  >  > >> 
>  > > >>bathroom. I  am disappointed. I tell myself (out loud) that I have a 
>  > > >>"Niiiiiice cock." No one is amused but  me. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>9:41 I walk to the bathroom while drinking  Bud Light out of a 
>  > can.Needless  
>  > > >>to say, they do not sell beer at  the Erwin Center,much less Bud 
Light 
>  > out 
>  > >  >>of 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>a can. I am stopped by an  usher:  "Where did you get that, sir?" I 
>  tell 
>  > > >>him 
>  > > >>(no shit): "Oh, the cheerleaders were  throwing them up with those 
> little 
>  > > >>plastic footballs. Would you mind throwing  this away for me?" I 
take 
>  the 
>  > > >>last swig and hand it  to him. He is confused. I pretend I'm going 
to  
> the 
>  > >  >>bathroom, but I run away giggling instead.  I duck into some  
entrance 
> to 
>  > > >>avoid the usher, who is now pursuing me. I  sneak into a large group 
> of 
>  > > >>people and sit down. The usher walks by  harmlessly. I am giggling 
> like 
> a 
>  > > >>little girl.  I crack open another can of Bud Light. 
>  >  > >> 
>  > > >>9:52 I am  lost. In my haste to avoid the usher, I have lost my 
>  > bearings.I 
>  > >  >>have no ticket stub. I cannot find my seats. Texas is losing.  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>10:09 Texas is being screwed by the refs. I  am enraged. I have 
> cleared 
>  > out 
>  > >  >>the seats around me because I keep removing my hat and beating  the 
>  > > >>surrounding chairs with  it. A concerned fan asks if I'm OK and 
>  perhaps 
> I 
>  >  > >>shouldn't take it so seriously. I tell him to fuck off.  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>10:15 After the fourth consecutive "worst  fucking call I have EVER 
>  > seen,"  
>  > > >>I 
>  > > >>attempt to remove my hat again to begin  beating inanimate objects. 
>  > >  >>However, 
>  > > >>on this  occasion I miscalculate and I thumbnail myself in my left 
>  > eyelid, 
>  > >  >>leaving a one-quarter inch gash over my eye. I am now bleeding  into 
> my 
>  >  > >>left 
>  > > >>eye and  all over my shirt. "Perhaps," I think to myself, I'm taking 
> this 
>  > a 
>  > > >>bit seriously." 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>10:22 I am standing in the bathroom peeing. I'm so drunk I  am 
swaying 
>  >  and 
>  > > >>grunting. I have a  bloody napkin pressed on my left eye. My pants 
are 
>  > > >>bloody. I have  my (formerly) white shirt wrapped around my waist. 
I 
>  > look 
>  > > >>like I should be in an episode of  Cops. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>10:43 Texas has lost. I put my bloody white  shirt back on my body 
and 
>  > make 
>  > >  >>my way for the exits. I am stopped every 20 seconds by a good  
>  > > >>samaritan/cop/security guard to  ask me why I am covered in blood, 
but 
> I 
>  > > >>merely grunt  incoherently and keep moving. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>10:59 With my one  good eye, I have located the parking garage. I 
walk 
> up 
>   > > >>six 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>flights of stairs,  promise that when I see my friend I will punch 
him 
> in 
>   > > >>the 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>face for making me  walk up six flights of stairs, find the truck, 
and 
>  > > >>collapse in a  heap in the bed of the truck. I look around and 
notice 
>  > that 
>  > > >>traffic is lined up all the way around the  garage, six whole 
flights, 
>  > > >>and no one is moving. I take a nap.  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>11:17 I awake from my nap. I see my friend  in the driver's seat. I 
> lift 
>  > my 
>  > >  >>head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that traffic is  
> lined 
>  > up  
>  > > >>all the way around the garage, six  whole flights, and no one is 
> moving.  
>  > I 
>  > >  >>am 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>too tired to punch my friend. I  call my friend a "Stupid 
cocksucker." 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>11:31 I lift my head to look out the bed of the truck and  notice 
that 
>  > >  >>traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole  
flights, 
>  > and  
>  > > >>no 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>one is moving. I call my friend a "Stupid cocksucker."  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>11:38 I lift my head to look out the bed of  the truck and notice 
that 
>  > > >>traffic is lined up all the way around the  garage, six whole 
flights, 
>  > and 
>  > >  >>no 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>one is moving. I call my friend a  "Stupid cocksucker." 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>11:47 I lift my  head to look out the bed of the truck and notice 
that 
>  > > >>traffic is  lined up all the way around the garage, six whole 
flights, 
>  > and 
>  > > >>no 
>  >  > >> 
>  > > >>one is  moving. I call my friend a "Stupid cocksucker." 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>11:58 I am jostled. The truck is moving. I lift my head to look  out 
> the 
>  >  > >>bed 
>  > > >>of the  truck and notice that traffic is  beginning to move on the 
> second 
>  > > >>floor. I  jump out of the truck, walk to the edge of the parking 
>  > facility, 
>  > >  >>and pee off the sixth floor onto the street below. My friend  looks 
at 
> me  
>  > > >>like I just anally violated his  minor sister. I turn around pee on 
> the  
>  > > >>front 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>of his truck while singing the lyrics to "Neon Moon."  
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>2:11 We are moving. We are out of beer. I  jump from the truck and 
go 
>  > from 
>  > >  >>vehicle to vehicle until someone gives me two beers. I am happy.   
>  > return 
>  > > >>to 
>  >  > >> 
>  > > >>my  vehicle 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>12:26 We have emerged from the parking  facility. We make our way to 
> my 
>  > > >>apartment and find Ed sitting on the couch  with a freshly opened 
> bottle 
>  > of 
>  > >  >>Glenlivet on the coffee table in front of him. We are all going  to 
> die 
>  > >  >>tonight. 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>12:59 We have finished  three-quarters of the bottle of Glenlivet. 
We  
>  > > >>decide 
>  > > >>it would be a wonderful idea to go dancing  at PollyEsther's. Ed has 
> to 
>  > > >>pee. 
>  >  > >>He walks down the hall to our apartment and directly into the  full 
>  > length 
>  > > >>mirror at the end of the hall, smashing it  into hundreds of pieces. 
> We 
>  > > >>giggle uncontrollably and leave for  PollyEsther's. 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>1:17 The PollyEsther's doorman  laughs uncontrollably at our efforts 
> to  
>  > > >>enter 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>his club. "Fellas," he says in between his fits of spastic  
>  > laughter,"I've 
>  > > >>been working this door for almost a year.  I've been working doors 
in 
>  > this 
>  > >  >>town for almost 5 years. And I can honestly say that I ain't  never 
> seen 
>  >  > >>three drunker mother fuckers than you three.Sorry, can't let  you 
>  > > >>in." We attempt to  reason with him. He laughs harder. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>1:44 We find a bar  that lets us in. We take two steps in the door 
and 
>  > hear 
>  > > >>"Last call for alcohol!" I turn to the group  and mutter: "See, dat 
>  > wasn't  
>  > > >>that fuckin' hard. Day don't  fuckin' do that at the Awamo...the 
>  > >  >>awaom...the 
>  > >  >>alab...fuck it, that stadium we was at today..."We order 6shots  of 
>  > tequila 
>  > > >>and three beers. 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>2:15 Back on the street. We need food. We hail  cab to take us  the 
> two 
>  >  and 
>  > > >>one half blocks to  Denny's. The cab fare is $1.60. We give him $10 
>  and 
>  > > >>tell 
>  > > >>him to keep it. 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>2:17 There is a 20 minute wait. We give the hostess $50. We  are 
> seated 
>  >  > >>immediately. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>2:25 We order two  orders of fried pickles, a Cobb salad, a bowl of 
>  soup, 
>  > > >>two 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>orders of Blueberry blintzes, two Reuben sandwiches, a  hamburger, 
two 
>  >  > >>cheese 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>stuffed potatoes, an order of  fries, and an order of onion rings. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>2:39 The food  arrives. We are all asleep with our heads onthe 
table. 
> The 
>  > > >>waiter wakes us up. We eat every fucking bit  of our food. Most of 
the 
>  > > >>restaurant patrons around us are disgusted.  We don't give a fuck. 
The 
>  > tab 
>  > >  >>is 
>  > > >>  
>  > > >>$112 with tip. 
>  > > >> 
>  >  > >>2:46 I'm sleepy. 
>  > >  >> 
>  > > >>9:12 I wake up  next to a strange woman. She is a waitress at 
Denny's. 
>  > She 
>  > > >>is 
>  >  > >> 
>  > > >>not  pretty. 
>  > > >> 
>  > > >>HOOK 'EM HORNS, BABY!!! 
>  > > >>