The Rice Thresher (Houston, Tex.), Vol. 70, No. 3, Ed. 1 Friday, August 27, 1982 Page: 12 of 12
twelve pages : ill. ; page 20 x 14 in.View a full description of this newspaper.
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Dear friends,
Since so few of you exercised
your option to submit a wonderful
and witty misclass (you can tell by
this week's selection that we have
no standards, really), and since I
received this novella which was
submitted as a misclass, rm going
to break with tradition and print it
anyway, because I need to put
something in this space.
To avoid this type of rubbish in
the future, be sure to submit all
those witty bons mots that you
collect each day, else Til be forced
to print the second part of this
trash.
The names have been changed to
protect the foolish, hedonistic
parties involved.
— BP Ed.
1 was two hours late in hitting
the road. I dropped by Pizza Sin to
purchase the pizza I had ordered
two hours earlier. It was
lukewarm, and didn't take long to
become cold. By the time I arrived
at Ricky Romo's house, though, I
was nearly finished with it. We
loaded the car with his stuff and
got ourselves psyched for the drive
to Livingston.
"You brought the tools?"
"Yeah, they're in the back. Of
course I brought them."
"Ok, 1 just wanted to make sure.
You got the Rolling Stones' tape?"
"Hell yes, what kind of
incompetent druggie do you think
I am?"
For some reason Romo
becomes excited when we talk
about good drug use, and this time
that silly grin spread across his
face, and he beat his thighs. "I
wanna drive," he said.
uOk, but let's get the beer first." I
had had the foresight to bring
along an ice chest that I've stolen
from Jorge Strinebinner. That'll
teach that motherfucker
Strinebinner not to mess with fne.
We stopped at a liquor store and
bought seven six-packs of Dos
Hquis. XX they call it. Beer we call
it. It was going to be a great trip
with a third of a cold pizza, 42
beers, three ounces of some real
kick-ass weed that we had
purchased at the usually
reasonable Texas prices, and only
60 miles of road in front of us that
my Honda Civic would have no
trouble eating up in an hour.
I don't remember what music it
was we had on, but we left it on and
let it play itself out until we got to
the city limits. Too many people
driving around us within the city.
"Government spies are every-
where..." We settled on beer
beer and loafing at metropolitan stadium—a drugged, novel misclassified
instead. City limits, seven beers
down, and 12 joints rolled. Spliffs.
Call Peter Tosh, these joints are
getting out of hand.
Now it was time to get into some
serious drug-using. Not drug-
abuse—that's something you do
with a substance that is legal, and
this stuff is potent enough that it
oughta be illegal 11 times. Bring
out the Springsteen. You know,
that guy from Jersey with the
biggest, meanest black sax player
in the world. J.R. Richard can
throw a baseball, and Mo Malone
can slam dunk a Cadillac, but
neither can play a sax like the big
man, Clarence Clemmons. Now
it's time to get into the grass. Ah.
"...and you're thinking that
maybe we ain't that young any
more. Show a little faith there's
magic in the night, you ain't a
beauty but hey, you're all right..."
The stuff was working in no
time. Here we were singing right
along with The Boss at the top of
our lungs, and we didn't even
notice that Romo was starting to
swerve.
"Nothing to do but roll down the
windows and let the wind blow
back your hair!"
Ecstasy. Hell, and that was only
one joint. "Hey, that stuff was
goodl" Romo has a knack for
stating the obvious.
"Quick, gimme another
goddamn beer! Hurry, it's
important." The man was having
delusions already, and the only
way to save our lives was to give
him a beer. He was now driving at
an average of 40 mph, and I
realized that it would be well into
the morning before we arrived at
Metropolitan Stadium, if we
arrived at all. The car whined. It
doesn't like to go 40 mph in fifth
gear. "Gear down, motherfucker,
the car will jump up and bite your
cock off if you don't gear down!" I
was truly worried about it biting
his cock off, because if it did, he
would probably be in such pain
that he would drive us into a large
tree or worse, a huge dog.
Then I realized the true danger
of going only 40. Most of the time
Romo drives 15 mph over the
speed limit. The copz would know
this, and as soon as they realized
that it was Romo, they would pull
us over and give us the grass test.
That would be horrid. The grass
test is one of the cruelest forms of
torture known to man. And once
we showed positive on the grass
test, they would convict our asses
and send us to Anarctica for 76
consecutive 99-year terms. That
2902 Kirby
529-1837
7605 Bellaire
995-1837
12 kinds of
hamburgers
trench fries
beer and wine
50$ OFF!
ANY HAMBURGER WITH
THIS COUPON
offer expires 9/2/82
would be a real bummer.
"Goddamn you!" I was angry. "I
always knew you were a member of
the FDP! All the goddamn joking
you did about it was to convince
me that you really weren't! Now
the copz will stop us and give me
the grass test, while you're a
national hero for hauling in one of
the most heinous criminals of all
time!"
"The grass test?" he asked. He
now looked at me instead of the
road. "What the hell is the grass
test?"
I knew then he was surely on my
side, as no member of the FDP
could be so clever as to conceal his
knowledge of the grass test. But
that wasn't important now—we
were on the shoulder and heading
for an embankment on the right.
"Shit!" I screamed, which hurtled
the car back onto the road. Romo
was still looking at me. "What the
hell is the grass test?" It was
amazing that he could remember
from one minute to the next what
we had been talking about. I sure
as hell couldn't.
"Oh, you've never heard of the
grass test?"
Editor's note: The description of
the alleged "grass test" is far too
gruesome for the Backpage. I can
say that it would be dangerous for
is aqua misclass
any A&Mpeople to discover this
"test."
"AllIIIE!" I could see that he
was now living this horrible fate.
"Quick, they're torturing me! The
only way to get out is to take
another drag from that there
spliff!" I passed him the joint.
Romo always thinks of the
stupidest reasons to use drugs.
Mic sang it. "I can't get no
satisfaction..." Romo was
bumping his head on the
windshield. I sang at the top of my
lungs. "Those assholes! They knew
they were recording music for
druggies, and now they're killing
me!" Romo becomes slightly
paranoid when high. "Hey you, get
off of my cloud!" "I'm not on your
fucking cloud," Romo assured me,
but I could see by the look in his
eyes that he was either lying or
about to throw the spitter.
Dear friends.
See what I mean? Schlock. They
serve this stuff in the commons all
the time. And this ain't a fifth of it!
There's more, about some cretins
and taking drugs and some wimp
and taking drugs and cinammon
toast and taking drugs. Is that all
this guv thinks about?
—BP Ed.
TAKE THE
"A" TRAIN
TO
BOURBON
There's no seal like a big fat bull
seal.
***
Organizational Meeting—Rice
Sailing Club. Sept. 2, 7:30, Sewall
Hall 305. For everyone interested
in recreational or competitive-
sailing. Inexperienced sailors are
encouraged to attend.
***
Hey! How did that horse get onto
the seventh floor?
September 10
Qualify Dental Care.
The Smile Store.
At Quality Dental Care, we've discovered an
important fact: No matter how well we do our job,
you're not going to appreciate your beautiful teeth
if you have to go through a lot of discomfort to get
them.
So we use the latest comfort systems avai lable.
"Happy gas," premedication and 5-channel stereo
headphones. And because your time is important,
if you have to wait more than 30 minutes for your
appointment—we'll buy you lunch. It's as simple
as that.
Quality Dental Care. Complete dental services
in comfort..Now that's something to smile about.
Quality Dental Care SouthwesT
2315 Southwest Freeway at Kirby
523-2328
Bring in this ad and get your teeth cleaned
for $5. Offer expires September 30, 1982.
The Rice Thresher, Friday, August 27, 1982, page 12
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Morgan, Tom. The Rice Thresher (Houston, Tex.), Vol. 70, No. 3, Ed. 1 Friday, August 27, 1982, newspaper, August 27, 1982; Houston, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth245505/m1/12/: accessed July 18, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Rice University Woodson Research Center.