Monday, July 26, 2004

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You Got Punk'd

So america is in love with ashton kutcher. somehow his crew of punkers successfully pulled off 2 seasons with no one calling them out. its always fun to watch big name celebrities get fucked with, and besides kutchers obnoxious and longwinded comic commentary, the show is pretty enjoyable. But just like anything we see on tv, the idea is to enjoy watching as long as you dont pull punks on your friends as well. Unfortunately, not everyone takes to this and a few months ago, two of my buddies decided to punk each other. Now this story is third-hand, so not all the details are there.

Jason Scherr, white male, 22, golf team, from the great state of Tejas
Brian Nixon, white male, 20, golf team, from north currolina
Keith Rourke, white male, 21, golf team, original teller of the story
B.C., black dude, 21, funny dude to smoke with, pledge at the time.
several other large pledges in my old fratty

rourke in blue on left, scherr in tan on right.
(ps--popped collar fanatic KB happens to be furthest left in the back)

Scherr and Nixon live in buckhead, in a phat condo that boasts a projection screen tv, columns, plush rugs, etc. Basically they have some nice cash flow in that place, lots of nice things, computers, tvs, tons of real nice shit. They have been friends since college and we're all in the same frat. Rourke, his girlfriend, scherr, nixon, their girlfriends...theyre all in the same crew, they hang out all the time.

One night they all decide to punk Nixon and the gist of it was that rourkes girlfriend would act like she was cheating on him... with rourkes roommate. they wanted to see how long it would take nixon to confide in rourke that she was cheating. this punk dragged on for like a month... nixon felt so bad about it and yet he could not work up the guff to tell rourke he thought his lady was cheating on him. eventually one night they sprang it on nixon that no one was cheating on anyone and he got punk'd. the problem was, for some reason, the whole cheating thing didnt sit well with nixon... probably something from his past, who knows. he got really upset at them for making him stress about it for like a month. so, nixon decided to take his revenge out on scherr. he would re-punk these punks.

So Nixon grabbed B.C. and told him to get a few more pledges. they were to dress in all black and wear ski masks and the whole bit, dress up exactly like robbers coming for a score. One night when nixon knew scherr was asleep in bed, he had B.C. and crew come over to their condo, he left the side porch door open. So these three guys dressed in all black with ski masks go into scherrs bedroom. and they have some bags with them, they start tossing his cd's and watches, xbox, all of it into the bags.... they are purposefully trying to make a lot of noise but scherr is just not waking up at all. so 2 of them go to lift his tv while B.C. makes a loud ass noise to wake scherr up in the middle of this "robbery." they shine a flashlight at him and scream OH SHIT! he's awake! and then the madness begins.

Scherr is fucking frozen, like he doesnt know what to do. he's in his boxers and there are three dudes in ski masks in his room lifting all his shit. B.C. begins to scream. Get your fucking hands up! where the fuck is your jewelry man? weve been scouting your place for days...where the fuck is it! get on the fucking floor where we can see you. youre fucking lucky we dont kick your ass for waking up little bitch. and on and on, imagine all the things a black dude would scream at you if he was robbing your house. so apparently scherr tries to dial 911 while they are doing all this shit. YO! he's calling someone.... who the fuck are you tryin to call man. the fuckin police?

scherr is like, half crying, just take whatever you want man, take it all...basically all the shit you would say to 3 guys robbing your house, just like in the movies. he's shaking, his face is ghost white. he's soaked in sweat. he cannot do shit, he's helpless to stop it.

after this went on for about half an hour (! can you believe?) nixon pops his head in and he screams: You Got Punk'd! the lights come on, the pledges take off their ski masks, and scherr fucking flips his shit. he was fucking scared to death. he was on the verge of tears it was so crazy, ya know. needless to say, nixon got his punk'd revenge tenfold compared to the lame first punk. and that is officially the last time anyone fucked with nixon again.


How was everyones weekend? Mine was fucking crazy. i got some yatches number on a friday but i couldnt call it back on saturday because A, i didnt remember her name, and B, the convo was lame but it was a lock. in cases such as these its best to call up on monday (after you get the name through 6 degrees of kevin bacon) and set some shit up for tues-thurs night. on a side note, i did happen to follow my saturday rule though, if anyone remembers that one. thanks to all my friends who officially skanced out on the pink pony and left me and jonny mcfucks to tend to all that other shit. oh and if anyone can somehow get me a digi-copy of karaoke night that would be pretty sweet. peace niggars. booyakasha.


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