Boar Party

Have you heard of a pig party, in which frat guys compete as to who can bring the ugliest date?

A boar party is like that, in a way. A boar party is a party given by some groups of women university students in which each attendee puts down an ante of $20 or so and invites the homeliest guy that she can. After the occasion is over, a vote is taken by all of the girls who had participated, and the winner gets a new vibrator and the remainder of the money.

The Phi Taus had a boar party last Saturday night. Amy won it by taking Cletus.

Origins of the Sooner Nickname

Oklahoma is the Sooner State. Now what caused this nickname to come about?

There's the Official Version. According to this, there were a series of land rushes when Oklahoma Territory was settled. Some people did not play by the rules, but sneaked past the starting line early in order to get the best locations for their land claims.

In short, the state nickname enshrines people who cheat in land rushes.

But there's an Unofficial Version. When the territory was first settled, the settlement camps drew large numbers of prostitutes who had a large clientile. There was one amazing fact that these daring doxies discovered: the settlers were so excited to see them that they had hair trigger problems. Because of this, they could turn over more business per night than they otherwise could! They were able to turn a healthy profit because of this regional peculiarity among the males.

And because they finished so much sooner, the state became known as the Sooner State.

Which version do you prefer?

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Erin go bragh!

and braless!

Bubbaland

Reynard Wilson was trying to come up with a new concept in theme parks to attract those sparse tourist dollars remaining during the recession times. Let's face it: Disney, Six Flags, Graceland, Beulahland, and others of their ilk are drawing in the dollars. But south Middle Tennessee was one of those blah locales, other than the Jack Danie Distillery at Lynchburg (strangely, in a dry county).

It was in the south; but not particularly Southern. The one attraction in that region was called, embarassingly enough, the Boobie Bungalow: a 'gentlemen's' club just north of the Alabama line.

Mr. Wilson had an inspiration. Most of the travelers on I-65 were Northerners going to the South in search of beaches, good weather, and experiencing the Southernness of the situation.

Now Alabama and Mississippi don't have to try hard to be Southern. Georgia screws it up around Atlanta, but is otherwise a good Southern experience. Louisiana: too exotic, not a consistent Southern theme. And, in Wilson's mind, southern Tennessee was a good locale. Far enough away from Nashville so that people would get restive by then, but a good site for a faux Southern experience.

So he fleshed out the concept. "Let's see: Cute girls in Daisy Dukes, louts running stills that dispense root beer, mountain crafts . . . . "

"Er, Reynard, those are jest hills south of the Duck River."

"Hell, Clyde, some jasper from Michigan ain't going to know diddly-squat the difference."

And so they built it. And it had moonshiners. And car chases. And Tennessee gals almost wearin' shorts (or damned little of them at that), and banjo music . . . .

The Yankee tourists came in droves. They bought stuffed coon dogs and raccoons, t-shirts featuring hillbillies, Confederate flags, grits, Moon Pies, and ate passels of hush puppies and barbecue. And drank RCs, that's for sure. And listened to country music.

And all came away with The True Southern Experience. And talked about how they just barely got out alive before the inbreds shot them!

Did you expect truthiness? Truthiness died sometime back in the 90's.

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