Day Two—The Book of Land O’ Lakes

Around 9:45am, I was roused from my deep sleep on Tits’ couch by the melodious crooning of a mechanical dancing Christmas Penguin (I couldn’t make this stuff up). This, of course, was not nearly enough to take me away from sleeping, but the promise of a delicious breakfast at a local diner was. After a couple intelligent members took showers (present company excluded, unfortunately), we piled into the cars and headed into town. When we arrived, we realized we weren’t the only ones who feed before noon, and the wait time was simply too much for our distended bellies to take. This being the case, we turned the cars around and hit up Bob Evans’ for some French Toast, Waffles, and camping stories from Bubbles, which gave an entirely new definition to the term “roughing it”.

Having completed our feeding frenzy, we made our way toward the highly anticipated Scallywag Tag, anxious about the quality of this laser tag facility. We bought our games in style, serenading our lovely cashier with TTYD. It was good enough for a flashing smile, but apparently not good enough for a discount. After entering the debriefing room and staring down the few 8 year old girls huddled in a corner, we all spread out along the wall to help Tori, our Laser Tag Wench, more effectively flirt with the entire group. After selecting our teams in the manner befitting a recess Kickball game (i.e. Me and My Gang v. everyone else), the guys in green pitted their wits against an onslaught of enough elementary school children to fulfill Michael Jackson’s Christmas List. What began as uncertainty leaning in favor of the young ‘uns quickly transformed into complete annihilation by F15. While it was a collaborative victory, we can all agree that we owe it to our One Eyed Jack……umm………hmmm…….

We emerged victorious and sweaty, or at least this buttery fellow did. Soon after, five openings for another game were offered to us, allowing a few to play again and the rest to grab some much-needed White Castle. As will soon become a recurring phenomenon, the White Castle shown on Bubble’s GPS did not actually exist. We settled for option #2, DQ, for a chilidog and some ice cream. On the ride there, Gameboy rejected our opinion regarding the saucy minx Tori, claiming she was only being friendly rather than flirtatious. Gameboy was immediately pummeled by the collective arguments of L.O’L, Tornado and Bubbles as well as the belated opinion of Rocktapus. It was settled.

We returned to a new game of Scallywag Tag, assuming it would be yet another massacre. Our dreams were quickly shattered when only 10 prepubescent opponents challenged us, prompting a severance in the group. Tori selected Vahj? and I to disband our fellow comrades and join the forces of evil. This was a painful departure, but Vahj? and I accepted our circumstances and chose to rise above them.

Epic Fail.

Ever seen a bunch of kids sit in corners in laser tag? Yeah, me neither. Karate Kid disgraced Mr. Miyagi when one of my “teammates” (I prefer “laser tag acquaintances”. Don’t group me in with them) proceeded to physically beat Karate Kid with his weapon. This was complimented by another kid who, whenever shot, would scream, “I’M SO PISSED!”. However, the favorite moment went something like this:

Vahj?: *turns a corner*
Stupid Girl On Our Team: *begins firing*
Vahj?: “Don’t shoot! I’m on your team!”
S.G.O.O.T: *continues firing until she hits Vahj?*
Vahj: “Why did you shoot me? I’m on your team.”
S.G.O.O.T: *stone faced (or as Slutkin B. would add “with a face of stone”)* “….Oh. I didn’t know.”

So, yeah, we lost. But Freshman 15 won, so it was a victory for all of us. Moving on.

We made the trip to the freshly christened BOOYAH’s house to check grades and…wait for grades to actually be posted. Following a brief vocal warm-up and a short caroling rehearsal, we loaded the cars for our next gig. The set went smoothly with an interesting skit in the middle involving introductions. They apparently liked us, because they paid for our dinner. It was fairly unanimous to hit up Fat Burger, where the conversations over other skit ideas crashed and burned. Well, they didn’t actually get up into the air. They just sort of combusted on the runway. Once our food was devoured and our set list on the juke box had played, we made a dash to BOOYAH’s friends, the Mirkopoulis’(sp?), to get in some last minute caroling. We weren’t very well received, as made apparent by the fuming babysitter, an exuberant Weimaraner and one man who, mid-door closing, asked for no more songs. Oh well.

Anywho, we arrived back at BOOYAH’s, checked again for grades to be posted, and made plans for the next activity. A few of us wanted to go bowling, the others wanted to watch reruns of M.A.S.H. and play shuffle board while complaining about why their grandkids never visit them anymore. We decided that said party poopers would go drive to the Mirkopoulis’ resident and the rest of us would finish the night with a bang. Little did we know that BANG would be Woody’s bowling ball leaving his hands a bit early and flying behind him toward Vahj?’s ankles (is that the possessive form of “Vahj?”?). After a couple games and a very impressive clutch play by Vahj? (4 strikes in a row), we headed back to the BOOYAH abode to get some shut-eye, but not after a thoughtful discussion between Gameboy, Snapz, Woody BOOYAH and I. Eventually, I grabbed a couch and tried to get some sleep. I wasn’t getting any help from Bubble’s constant texting, but eh. He’s my brother. We’re there for each other. We look out for one another. We are family.




……ZzzzZZzzzzzz……


—L.O’L

Day One-The Book of Land O' Lakes

Many will attest that the F15 Cincinnati ’08 Tour began on the 13th of December. Actually it began the night of the 12th around 9pm at the newly eviction-free Chez Rocktapus. It was a night of celebration: the end of finals and the beginning of what promised to be a memorable tour if for no other reason than the absurd 5:30am meeting time agreed upon to make it to our Oxford, OH gig by 1pm. Rocktapus broke out his finest wine (approx. $8 w/o tax) and provided a light alternative to the High Life. Such beverages brought about a fairly enthusiastic game of Kings that concluded with a fair amount of pistachio shells and wine stains. Rocktapus was quick to remedy this by stripping down and tossing his pants in the washing machine while Tornado and I administered/attempted Peppermint Patties. Needless to say, there were many streaks of chocolate syrup on rather disgruntled faces to affirm our failures. Though we had a handful of guests, it’s worth noting that some of the lovely F15 ladies and PHaze Faves graced us with their presence. By the time Land O’ Lakes was past his optimal freshness (2:30am), it was time to finish packing. After many adieus and promises of “tour bus” companions, it was finally time to turn in for the night.

“Turn in” = 20 minutes of sleep

After packing, a last minute load of laundry to prepare for a month of vacation and hitting the sack at 4:30am, 4:50am suddenly arrived and demanded a shower. I rushed out to meet up with Smokee and Slutkin B at 5:24am when we had agreed on 5:20am to make it to the MAB rendezvous by 5:30am, the guilt was almost overwhelming. Smokee cut us some slack and we made our way to MAB to an empty parking lot complimented by a single lit practice room; funny you should ask, because it looks a helluva lot like the one we used last night for rehearsal…

After much deliberation/30 seconds in a ghost lot, we made a unanimous decision to pay a visit to the ever-popular BK Lounge, which has nothing on the Plounge (oh that’s right, we used to go there. What happened to Monday Nights?). After an interestingly awkward conversation with the cashier regarding which background to use on his phone, we made our way back to the MAB parking lot.

5:40am. Still empty. Well, might as well eat.

5:45am…

5:50am…

5:55am, Snapz and Woody pull in as Vahj? makes a mad dash for a spot in Smokee’s Infiniti, or, as it should be referred to, the Magic Tour Bus. I mean, who wouldn’t want to get in on this?

6:00am. Bubbles shows up with his locked and loaded Subaru. All are accounted for except two. And who might those two be?

Tornado and Rocktapus.

After endless phone calls to both tardy members, the Magic Tour Bus Riders were given explicit instructions to locate the elusive Tornado, ironic as it is to have such difficulty locating this natural disaster. By 6:10am, we reached his living quarters, and Vahj? and I have managed to get inside. After utilizing the resources of a few randos waiting for a taxi, we navigated our way to his dorm room as I proceeded to pound mercilessly on his door, ignoring the sleeping needs of any and all neighbors. We were welcomed by a rather calm roommate and a nearly comatose Tornado. I gave him a good old Land O’ Lakes wake-up call complimentary with a sucker punch to the kidneys, so it wasn’t long before we had him up and tripping over his half-raised pant legs. However, it took quite some time and effort to get him out the door and into Snapz’ car. To be precise, we were heading out around 6:20am, though we had planned to leave by 6am, only to encounter yet another obstacle:

Where is Rocktapus?

All three cars convened at the Chicken Shack across from Chez Rocktapus to devise a plan of finding him. After many calls, 6:30am rolled around, forcing us to set two cars on their way. The MTB was chosen to remain and attempt some contact with the enigmatic counter-tenor (well, he does a great impression). After nearly 15 phone calls and a handful of alerts to his friend’s callbox (as his was conveniently on the fritz), I managed to get him on the phone. The conversation was almost a religious experience:

Rocktapus: I’m coming! I’m Coming! *click*

6:41am…

6:42am…

By 6:43am, I have no choice but to call again, only find myself receiver-to-receiver with a frantic, possibly hyperventilating Rocktapus. Apparently somewhere between spilling on his jeans and frolicking around his apartment in only his boxers, he had misplaced his most valuable asset (his wallet) and clearly could not go on a road tour without it. Needless to say, we needed to get rolling, and I decided another pair of eyes couldn’t hurt the process, although I promised the other MTB riders “I’m going up and finding it right now. I don’t care if I have to tear that place apart”. Once let in by Rocktapus, he explained how a faulty cell phone alarm clock and a rather ineffective, although greatly appreciated, Jho couldn’t get this Rock out of bed. This did little to improve the situation, so we immediately commenced tearing his place apart to find his wallet. With the assistance of Jho, we managed to throw aside pillows, blankets and clothing to no avail. After searching in every feasible location, Jho pointed out the obvious location: the dryer. This, unfortunately, was empty, but I deduced a different line of reasoning. He washed his pants. He never dried them.

This in mind, threw open the washing machine door to find a pair of jeans, a wallet, and an empty bottle of Wine. In the washing machine. We’ve yet to work out how this came to be, but I did succeed in accidentally swiping a couple bottles onto the floor, which then decorated the floor with shattered glass. Having absolutely no time to spare, we grabbed his stuff and headed out the door, couch pillows and glass still strewn about. As we’re about to walk down the stairs, ready to get to the car at 6:50am, Rocktapus discovered he lost his keys. This required emptying his entire bag and searching his place AGAIN for his newly lost necessity.

7:00am we pull away from Chez Rocktapus and finally start our tour. Needless to say, apologies were extended, fingers were pointed, laughter was shared, and a deafening silence from a group of sleepy A Cappella men filled the car. Only the occasional confusing off ramp and disconcerting Tom Raper Country signs broke this tranquil state. Well, that and a phone call at 12:45pm confirming that Snapz’ caravan had crashed into a ditch on the side of the road, 15 minutes before we’re supposed to be going on stage. Thanks to the help of a couple Good Samaritans, they were able to get out and continue onward.

1:00pm we’re officially in Oxford, OH parking near Benton Hall with Booyah quite enthusiastically jumping up and down to signal us where to go. We parked the cars and made a mad dash for the auditorium, getting in time just to see our new favorite group of girls, the University of Miami Misfitz, stalling long enough for us to warm up and get inside. By 1:10pm, we had made it. We were on stage. And before you knew it, we were already finished, ready to be serenaded by our hosts.

The wonderful chords emanating from those talented Misfitz quickly remedied the chaos of the morning and brought smiles to the face of all the boys in green, be it from Marielle’s VP, Meredith’s teacup dancing (both high and low), or the arrangements that blew us away. After the show, the Misfitz took us to a delicious lunch at Fiesta Charra before parting ways until the A Cappella show that night. Did you see the show? In the first row? Bubbles was making it difficult to keep our focus on the concert by adding his own commentary and attempting to sit on the stairs. Hey, somebody's gotta create the moments that make the memories.

After an entertaining concert and a packed after-party we were fortunately invited to, Rocktapus, his newfound wife, Mallory, and I grabbed some Bagelanddeli’s and headed back to her house to get some sleep, but not before we met her roommates Sam and Cody, swapped stories, and agreed that Mallory and Rocktapus had found their soul mates. Their friendship is sure to endure Rocktapus’ Lite-Brite design.

At 3:00am, I decided the couch was irresistible, and knocked out the second I hit the cushions. The day was exhausted and so was I. One down, three to go.

-L.O’L