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	Wisdumb
	Sea Sick (2-27-02) When I went to Cal Poly San Luis Obispo I lived in the dorms the first year and then moved to an off campus student housing project for a few years more. This place provided ample opportunity to prove yourself to be a worthy idiot with little worry of repercussions or guilt. Examples could include, but are not limited to, motorcycles in the swimming pool, couch fires, indoor murals, 4 foot high piles of trash, TV piñata, breaking windows with a water balloon slingshot, floosies (women of loose morals), rivers of liquor, beaches worth of broken glass, and other incidents of youthful indiscretion. I participated in nearly none of these things. Somehow (my roommate flaked) I ended up with my own large room. It would then make sense to have guests for weekends of fun. So Glenn Policare comes up for the weekend and we are good to go. To tell you the truth, I don't even remember most of it, but here are some of the high and lowlights. I had an extra mattress so I let him have that one on the floor by the desk. Deluxe! We then arm ourselves with our own personal 12-packs of Lucky Lager (butt-ass cheap 'beer'). This was a bargain at $2.49. Barely. The best part was the bottle caps had a little puzzle on the bottom for you to solve. I can solve those things with one face in the gutter. So I suppose we go to some kollege party somewhere. There were lots to choose from. I would like to say it was the one where the jocks started head butting the wall and made a big hole to the next apartment. Seemed reasonable at the time. I poked my head in and before I knew it, someone lifted my feet and shoved me through the thing where I got wedged between some building supplies. Woo Hoo! But I think that was a different one. So Glenn disappears and I finish off my beer because I don't like to waste things. I wander home and find Glenn ...sleeping in an unorthodox manner. Half of him is under my desk and the other half is under the mattress. I turn off the light and spin my way to sleep. The next morning is rough. I give Glenn grief about going home early. I am not feeling 100% either but who cares? Let's go surf! We cruise down to the Pismo pier and there is some surf contest going on. All those pro body boarders from the 80's are there ripping. I am grooving but then I really start to feel bad (=massive hangover I can't ignore). I am sweating so I propose we get in the water. The cold water feels good and washes away the cold sweat building up on my forehead. Turns out, there is a pretty good south swell running at maybe head high plus on the sets. We are down the beach a ways surfing by ourselves. I get a good one and get beat by the set paddling back. I am really huffing away. I get back out and this great pressure from within hits me. I say, "hey Glenn" and proceed to puke, full on, out in the line-up. It was so ridiculous that I was laughing at the same time, which I didn't think was possible. (Ask him; experimentvideo@hotmail.com) Luckily, my personal chum didn't attract any sharks that I could see. That is about all I remember from that day and it was probably too much. Did we have more beer that night? You bet we did. more stories >>