My Sordid Past
What's The Statute of Limitations On Deviltry?
During the evening with Connecticut Yankee last week, a subject came up that's common knowledge among my close friends, but one we've kept quiet about to outsiders. Well, I have, for the most part.
It involves one of a series of pranks inflicted upon various targets during our stay at the local university. I was motivated by tales of the spectacular pranks pulled off at Stanford and MIT, and sought to emulate them in some small manner.
No paltry fountain-soaping or tree-papering here! We strove to be original, or at least not completely juvenile. I'm also a big fan of Penn & Teller, and their credo of No Permanent Damage also weighed into the planning stages of most of my pranks. It's easier to convince the Disciplinary Board not to expel you if no one has died, and the Chemistry building's not currently on fire.
Some pranks went well. Others, not so good. Very early incarnations of the pranking crew attempted to deposit a life-sized stuffed cow in the lap of the William Marsh Rice statue at Rice U., only to be dissuaded from our pursuit 50 yards from the goal line by security officers.
The scheme to dye the Architecture College fountain blood-red to offset the hideous navy blue sculpture recently added to the courtyard failed due to my complete lack of mathematical skills involving computing relative volumes. Despite industrial-grade food coloring, the best we could do was pale pink. There's a reason additives to water are computed in parts-per-million (PPM), folks! Think in LARGE numbers for water pranks!!!
The plot to hijack the scale model of the cruise missile from Aerospace Engineering and re-deploy it nosediving onto the roof of the Business Building never happened because A) I couldn't learn to pick those wonky Medeco deadbolts, and B) Engineering students with passkeys are notoriously hard to social engineer due to their relative lack of social skills!
In spite of those setbacks, many more went off without a hitch. Message was sent, fun was had, and no one went to either the hospital or jail. Want to know how to mummify a Ford Escort in the dead of night with 100 yards of 2" manila rope? How about how to replace the interior of a watermelon with 3 gallons of chocolate pudding without leaving a trace? Hijack a chuckwagon? I'm your guy! Need a live chicken in a milk crate epoxied to a door? Howzabout a marquee sign rearranged to say something naughty? Been there, done that. Maybe you want to outline every fixture and piece of furniture in a room with glow-in-the-dark paint? Got the brushes right here. I'm particularly fond of the occasional press releases on University letterhead sent to local media outlets announcing the conversion of prominent faculty members to Satanism, or the grand opening of discount brothels along Sorority Row.
The one prank I'm dying to tell about, though, is the one that's probably still not safe to mention publicly. Oh, the statute of limitations is long past, but some enterprising tort lawyer with a bug up his ass could probably still make things difficult. It's arguable that financial damages are still being suffered, though I think that's a bit of a stretch.
It was a throwaway, a fluke, a one-shot half-assed effort meant to be just a needle in the administration's capacious buttocks. It took on a life of its own, though, and while it never swelled to gigantic proportions, it hung around longer than normal, like a particularly painful ass-zit.
So, Rockhauler? ConnYank? Limey Bastard? Flygirl? Hatchet Slut? Andy? I know you're out there lurking. When's it safe to unlock the stable doors and let that rock-hard bastard trot on out?
Oh, be judicious and circumspect in your commenting, please! I don't want to have to edit y'all for content!
During the evening with Connecticut Yankee last week, a subject came up that's common knowledge among my close friends, but one we've kept quiet about to outsiders. Well, I have, for the most part.
It involves one of a series of pranks inflicted upon various targets during our stay at the local university. I was motivated by tales of the spectacular pranks pulled off at Stanford and MIT, and sought to emulate them in some small manner.
No paltry fountain-soaping or tree-papering here! We strove to be original, or at least not completely juvenile. I'm also a big fan of Penn & Teller, and their credo of No Permanent Damage also weighed into the planning stages of most of my pranks. It's easier to convince the Disciplinary Board not to expel you if no one has died, and the Chemistry building's not currently on fire.
Some pranks went well. Others, not so good. Very early incarnations of the pranking crew attempted to deposit a life-sized stuffed cow in the lap of the William Marsh Rice statue at Rice U., only to be dissuaded from our pursuit 50 yards from the goal line by security officers.
The scheme to dye the Architecture College fountain blood-red to offset the hideous navy blue sculpture recently added to the courtyard failed due to my complete lack of mathematical skills involving computing relative volumes. Despite industrial-grade food coloring, the best we could do was pale pink. There's a reason additives to water are computed in parts-per-million (PPM), folks! Think in LARGE numbers for water pranks!!!
The plot to hijack the scale model of the cruise missile from Aerospace Engineering and re-deploy it nosediving onto the roof of the Business Building never happened because A) I couldn't learn to pick those wonky Medeco deadbolts, and B) Engineering students with passkeys are notoriously hard to social engineer due to their relative lack of social skills!
In spite of those setbacks, many more went off without a hitch. Message was sent, fun was had, and no one went to either the hospital or jail. Want to know how to mummify a Ford Escort in the dead of night with 100 yards of 2" manila rope? How about how to replace the interior of a watermelon with 3 gallons of chocolate pudding without leaving a trace? Hijack a chuckwagon? I'm your guy! Need a live chicken in a milk crate epoxied to a door? Howzabout a marquee sign rearranged to say something naughty? Been there, done that. Maybe you want to outline every fixture and piece of furniture in a room with glow-in-the-dark paint? Got the brushes right here. I'm particularly fond of the occasional press releases on University letterhead sent to local media outlets announcing the conversion of prominent faculty members to Satanism, or the grand opening of discount brothels along Sorority Row.
The one prank I'm dying to tell about, though, is the one that's probably still not safe to mention publicly. Oh, the statute of limitations is long past, but some enterprising tort lawyer with a bug up his ass could probably still make things difficult. It's arguable that financial damages are still being suffered, though I think that's a bit of a stretch.
It was a throwaway, a fluke, a one-shot half-assed effort meant to be just a needle in the administration's capacious buttocks. It took on a life of its own, though, and while it never swelled to gigantic proportions, it hung around longer than normal, like a particularly painful ass-zit.
So, Rockhauler? ConnYank? Limey Bastard? Flygirl? Hatchet Slut? Andy? I know you're out there lurking. When's it safe to unlock the stable doors and let that rock-hard bastard trot on out?
Oh, be judicious and circumspect in your commenting, please! I don't want to have to edit y'all for content!
posted by El Capitan | 5:41 PM
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