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Fear and Loathing on a College Campus |
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By: Mikey Vu - Lifestyles Editor
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Wednesday, September 27, 2006 |
 Noah Calhoun: Tetherball Champion
Tetherball. The game that everyone would line up to play at recess, each taking turns to try to see who could get the ball to swing completely around the pole. Everyone laughing and smiling, with the sun shining behind them, oh what a joyous time it was! Not for me.
With tetherball, if the ball swings around fast enough and, say, smacks you alongside your face, there’s a good chance that you’ve probably broken something. That’s really the worst that could happen, right? Nope, guess again, because that ball is coming back around ready to knock you flat on your ass again. And don’t even get me started on the rope burn.
You know, since I’ve been on this whole 90’s childhood kick recently, what about the ever entertaining game of Heads Up 7-up? Everyone at this school has most likely played Heads Up 7-Up at some point in their lives, unless of course you were home schooled, then I guess it wasn’t really that hard to guess who picked you. But in elementary school, didn’t everyone just cheat when it came to that game? I think the majority of my friends just used the good ol’ “put your head on the side of the desk and look at the shoes” trick.
Or what about that one game where your babysitter blindfolds you and puts you in the closet because you interrupted her Boy Meets World marathon and then she goes home without remembering to leave food out much less let you out of the closet and your parents were gone in Seattle for a week and you woke up in the hospital with a lobster bib on because you were dribbling apple sauce after you lost complete control of your motor skills for a year? Please make the nightmares stop. Let’s not talk about games anymore, shall we?
Something strange that I have noticed through years of hanging out with my friends is the phenomenon known only as “the girlfriend voice.” You all know what I’m talking about.
For those that don’t, however, picture this: a bunch of guys are hanging around doing the whole guy thing, talking about how wasted they were last night, how hot they think so-and-so is, basically a party of the sausage variety, until all of a sudden one of their phones ring. “I think it’s your phone that’s ringing John, it’s probably one of our homies calling to see where we are,” someone chimes in. But then it happens. John’s voice suddenly raises about two octaves into a light falsetto, as if his testicles have receded back into his abdomen like he was going through puberty in reverse. “Hey honeybunny, how are you? I can’t wait to watch The Notebook with you tonight…yeah, it’s definitely my fave too!” It is quickly apparent to the rest of the guys sitting there that either a) it is not one of the homies, b) it actually is one of the homies, and John has been withholding information, or c) his man card will have to be revoked for using the word fave, The Notebook, and honeybunny together in one sentence. But of course, the answer is: d) it’s the girlfriend (cue spooky music).
“The Girlfriend Voice.” Emasculating men in front of their friends since the dawn of time. It is inevitable, unavoidable, and really annoying. Think of it this way: trying to fight the girlfriend voice is about as useless as Facebook’s poke feature. And that’s pretty damn useless.
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Lifestyles 
