a required taste for the pretentious as all get out





edward 40-hands will put hair on your chest and holes in your wall
November 21, 2004, 2:57 pm

It should be noted that when planning to purchase an obscene amount of alcohol, one should probably do it away from the town in which one teaches to avoid the potentially embarrassing task of having to explain to one's students why one is carrying a box of twelve 40 oz. Colt 45s and a 30-pack of Miller Lite. Just a piece of advice, in case you're planning on throwing a rousing 40s party anytime soon.

Friday night saw my sister, Lefty, CNET, and a couple of other people from school sitting on the couches of my basement with 40s DUCT TAPED to both hands. Why? Here, I'll explain so you can play EDWARD 40-HANDS at home!

How to Play: Edward 40-Hands

Materials Needed: Duct tape (figure about one roll per three to four people), 40 oz. bottles of your favorite beer or malt beverage (two per person)

Directions: Put 40s on a counter or bar. Instruct everyone to grasp one in each hand. One person is equipped with duct tape and is responsible for covering each person's hands with duct tape so the 40s won't move or drop. No one is allowed to remove the 40s until both are finished. Hilarity and or major drunkeness ensues.

Warning: Do not play Edward 40-hands if a) you're already drunk, b) your friends/sisters are already drunk, or c) there is concrete nearby. May cause a drunk sister to bash her head through a wall, causing damage to drywall and father's wrath. May also cause potential boyfriends to either spend the night in their cars or to get upset that you're making out with someone else. May cause student teachers to puke relentlessly.

Remember how I told you about Jim's cute friend, Broch? Remember how I said Lefty had competition? Well, uh, I spent a good portion of the party (after assuaging the situation about the wall and my drunk sister with my dad and cleaning Lefty's vomit off my couch) making out with him in the stairwell. CNET and friends were endlessly amused by not only his name, but the fact that I was making out with someone FIVE YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME. Ugh.

"Hey B, would you like me to put on some Broch, erm, BACH? How about BACHMAN TURNER OVERDRIVE?"

"I know you had some trouble last year, how's your bach doing?"

They're so clever.

When Lefty found out, he didn't really sulk, but jumped on the making fun bandwagon: "Did he BROCH you like a hurricane, or did he simply BROCH your world?"

On Saturday, Lefty, Christina (with a bruised shouler and a bruised cheek due to the wall-bashing incident) and I went to the Navy football game and had possibly the greatest Saturday afternoon ever. We walked around the Annapolis Mall, ate at Chick-Fil-A, and Lefty and I cuddled for a while, until...

We went to the bookstore, and I happened to pick up He's Just Not That Into You while Chris and Lefty were off reading something else. You know what? He's Just Not That Into Me. And he knows it. And I know it. And oh-god-I've-been-such-a-fool-and-everyone
warned-me-what-is-my-problem. "Whatcha readin', B?" he asked.

"He's Just Not That Into You."


As we said goodnight, he hugged Christina, and then hugged me. "Don't be sad, please Jess," he said, "Broch will call."


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