Well I am in the middle of finals so all I have been doing has been studying in the library so I haven’t really been in touch with the outside world so I have nothing interesting to talk about but I feel like my audience needs something to get them through their weeks.
So here goes…
My buddy Adam Braun is currently doing a semester at sea and sends periodic emails and photos from his trip in a big mailer to a group of us. He was just recently in Buenos Aires, Argentina and just sent one of these emails. Thankfully something inside the email was so entertaining and enjoyable that I am just going to copy and paste a part of it and call it my column for the week.
Perhaps the strangest night I've had on this trip occurred when we headed 30 minutes outside the city to the "best Sunday night club around". Immediately upon arrival we realized we were among the trash of Buenos Aires, but the club interior was nice and the throbbing house rhythms were infectious. After 45 minutes of music though, the hanging TV screen was raised and the music faded... Everyone moved to the outskirts of the dance floor, taking seats to observe the stage as if they knew exactly what was coming... Suddenly, a busty blond sauntered onstage in high heels and lingerie. "Take My Breath Away" from Top Gun pierced the stank club air, and my first thought was "She's not going to...." Oh yes, she was. After a few pathetic gyrations, she removed her top to reveal silicon-enhanced breasticles. Interesting. Suddenly, a large pony-tailed man walked onstage behind her, wearing an oversized black leather trench coat. Ummm, okay.
She walked towards the beast and removed the dead cow from his shoulders, revealing tighty-whitey underwear and nothing else. Scott, Israeli Doodee and I looked at each other with equal looks of "Is this really happening!?" She knelt down to face the Incredible Hulk's incredible hulk, and at that point the same thought ran through all of our heads simultaneously... "Not a chance." Oh, but how wrong we were. She pulled down this dude's jock strap to reveal a freakish 11-inch ramjam boner-nation. A collective gasp shuddered through the scattered crowd, and for the next 3 minutes they engaged in softcore faux sex ON STAGE. We were in a state of absolute shock. This was a regular nightclub we thought, not Marv Albert's chamber of love. Finally the curtains mercifully closed, and Bob Sinclair's club anthem "Hold On" screamed over the speakers. We were paralyzed with "what-just-happened-to-me"-ness, but everyone else sprinted onto the dancefloor and began shaking it up like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened! Where the hell were we?! If anything, they danced with more vigor, most likely to compensate for their newfound feelings of loathesome sexual inadequacy thanks to the trenchoat-wearing tripod...
Well that pretty much will be my last post until finals are over (May 15th for all of you not in the know). I hope you enjoyed an adventure with Captain Adam Braun and his tale from the High Seas.
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