>>> The Rollercoaster of Drama
By staff writer Simonne Cullen
June 6, 2004

Last weekend most of collegiate America celebrated Memorial Day weekend in a drunken disarray of events, because at this point all of collegiate America is on summer vacation. But not the students who go to Lawrence. We celebrated our three-day weekend in the computer lab or the library gearing up for the last week of class and trying desperately to pull our term papers together in 72 hours. All of this intense studying occurred so that we could spend our last week of campus getting drunk and weird.

Traditionally, the weekend before finals is never reserved for studying. I think it has a lot to do with the weather. As soon as June hits, Mother Nature is legally restricted from any more snowfalls and the state of Wisconsin officially defrosts itself. Consequently, Frisbee golf takes priority over class, everyone walks around in their bathing suits, and cocktail hour begins at 10—in the morning.

Perhaps the greatest Lawrence tradition is the last party of the year: the foam party thrown in a frat house basement. This is one of the few parties on campus that is more sketchy than dramatic. More than three hundred of your peers dressed in bathing suit attire, drunk, and covered to their midriff in Dawn soap bubbles. It is here that everyone gets one last chance to stick their hands in places they don't belong without reserving any judgment. And if you're sober and looking around you'll immediately notice that everyone is getting really fucking sketchy.

Intense research shows that the word “sketchy” is a slang word limited to the Midwest. So maybe I should describe where the term sketchy originated from and why it is in a separate category than drama. The term sketchy derived from that “Etch-A-Sketch” toy. You know the one that would only let you draw in straight perpendicular lines and when you shook it the two hour design of lines would be erased. Well I guess that's the general idea of sketchy. You do crazy things drunk and then shake your head violently and the memory of them is erased and you're free to start over. Drama is when four people are driven into the sunlight by an ambulance thanks to alcohol poisoning.

Sketchy = Fun Loss of Dignity
Drama = Potential Death

Everyone needs to leave school with a big bang (literally), and a good last Saturday morning brunch with hundreds of sketchy stories to share. The following is a collaboration of sketchy stories I've collected over the past three years. Some have happened in front of my eyes and others have been reported by my friends. Let the difference between Sketchy and Dramatic commence.

I'm not one to glorify the art of sexual harassment but there were hands being thrust down people's pants, searching for promised lands and penile implants. That didn't make sense, but I liked the way it rhymed. Because no one could see who was who within all the foam, there were girls sticking hands down guys' pants all over the place. Lots of senior guys were reportedly fondled by a plethora of underclassmen girls. Girls they thought were hot and girls they thought were not. Sketchy is sticking your hand down a guy's pants, looking up and realizing it's not who you thought it was, then walking away and taking another grab at it despite the damn stinging foam and your blurred vision. Dramatic would be sticking your hand down your best friend's boyfriend's pants and keeping it there after you realize who it is.

One of the most sketchy things I see in guys is that they all like to get naked. Together. In big groups. And stay naked 'til security comes and breaks the naked party up. The annual senior streak was this past week and in my opinion it was a poor showing compared to years prior. About twenty percent of the senior class ran from the VR to Main Hall naked this year compared to at least 80 percent my freshman year. And let me reiterate, I go to a small school so 20 percent is maybe fifty people. Forty of these people were guys who rendezvoused in a circle and did what any sober observer could only describe as a naked Indian Rain Dance for forty minutes, followed by an encore performance called a dog pile. Wanna know the intensity of this dog pile? One guy allegedly got a black eye from their friend's nut sack ramming them in the eye.

That's not to say that girls don't lose their tops. They do. They do it deliberately too. A friend of mine the morning after said that he had never seen so many cans in one public venue. Some girls were exiting the house with their flip flops abandoned in the foam, while other were leaving without any tops at all. It's a great party make no mistake about it, but when there are 230 pound girls running around topless the sketch factor is enough to make anyone leave.

The most popular sketch stories at brunch are the hookup stories. By the end of the year hooking up with more than one person in one night is no longer frowned upon but encouraged. A close friend of mine witnessed one girl making out with one guy at the foam party, was later seen exiting the shower with the first guy's roommate, and the next morning was having an intimate brunch with both of them—all still in the bathing suits from the night before.

The most popular story about the foam party is the discreet blowjob-in-the-corner story. Everyone is dancing, slimily sticking to each other, except that one guy in the corner with his arms folded across his chest. Why in the hell is he just standing there you ask? Oh right, you say, as a mop of hair emerges from the general region of his crotch and you realize he's getting off in front of the entire campus. Sketchy = fantasy public sex that goes too far.

And let's not forget the notorious guy who attempts to woo girls by bargaining with them for sexual favors like a used car salesman. Don't deny it, there is one on every campus.

“Hey hey hey! You're looking really hot tonight Gina.”
“What are you talking about? I am covered in foam and have mascara streaking down my face.”
“No, no one can notice here let me help you get it out from under your eyes. (And while he's removing her mascara with his spit) So how about you and me get together later and I'll show you a good time.”
“Uh, no.”
“Fine then how about a blow job?”
“Ew no!”
“Fine, how about a hand job right here, no one can see.”
“Get away from me!”
And as she walks away you can hear him screaming over the music.
“Fine then. Will you touch it? Touch it. YOU DON'T HAVE TO JIGGLE IT! JUST TOUCH IT!”

That's right mom! These are the Casanovas of college today and this is how they court women.

Everyone does something sketchy at some point. After all we can justify it with three simple words: “Hey, it's college.” The only thing I'm worried about is how we're all going to justify this when we graduate. Because if you're still sucking cock in foam after you've graduated, that's not sketchy, that's a career choice.


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