Saturday, February 25, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
By: Ducan Manor
I went to Karaoke Night at Braxton Tower. I thought it would be night to sing. The songs I decide to sing were “That Summer” by Garth Brooks and “Drops of Jupiter” by Train. I got more than I bargained for when women started handing me their newborn children.
My Grandfather’s Room
By: Lucinda Harris
One year ago, my family lost someone very dear to us. During his final months, my grandmother stayed by his side in the Rosenbaum House by the hospital. Soon, he passed away, and my grandmother moved back home. Through a generous donation from his extended family, the Rosenbaum House was able to get a new playroom for the children. Anyone who knew my grandfather, knew he loved children. This month, I finally got to see that playroom. His spirit was alive through bright colors and a huge window overlooking Morgantown. The best part of the room was a picture of him and my two nieces hanging above a plaque that read “In Memory of Roger P Gandee.”
The Day I Bought Kid Sized Clothes…Again
By: Moses Ajemigbitse
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, or so they say. Shame on me anyway. It was a sub-zero temperature day in January. Ironically, the perfect weather for snow football. Wesley set up a wonderful excuse for a bunch of college boys to dress up warm and run around in the snow like they boys they still were. I decided to be part of it. In preparation for the game, I asked Danny to drive me to Wal-Mart to purchase cheap thermal clothing. In Wal-Mart, it took us awhile to find thermal clothing. And when we did, being the engineers we are, we decided the best way to look through a rack of clothes is by taking it down. After I found a suitable color and size, we put the rack back up and checked out.
Fast forward a few hours. Right before the game, I took the thermal underwear out of the bag and opened the packet. Instead of a size L for men, it was a size L for boys. Fantastic!
Preview: A Month of Love--writing sonnets and navigating character relationships on the page. Our next meeting is Feb. 21 at 8 p.m. We're in the JB Lounge located in Towers. As always...FREE FOOD!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
A roast is a public presentation of comedic insults, praise, outlandish anecdotes--true and untrue. At a roast, the roastee is expected to be a good sport by not taking any of the humor to heart. Actually being the subject of a roast is a great honor because the roastees are surrounded by well-respected colleagues, friends, family, and admirers. However at our roastery slam, we did not know the roastees, and they were not present. The roastees were anonymously picked by moi via phone book, closed eyes, and pointing. Nonetheless the roasters drew slips of paper and ended up with mysterious names full of possibility such as Norma Banton, Junior Webber, and Angel Sanchez. We found our muses: girls who stole our boyfriends, boys that think they’re the &*it, bullies that pulled our hair in sandboxes, bullies that sneezed on our Texas Toast just so they could eat it, and we projected everything we wish we could have said to those meanies, all our three snaps in a Z-formation steeped with time, onto those anonymous names.
For the poetry slam part of the roastery slam, we each read our piece. When we finished, our crowd (our fellow Arnoldites) rated us on a scale of 1 to 10. It was a Valentine’s Day Eve spent in tears--the good kind of tears, the laughing kind--as we saw sides of each other that we had never witnessed before.
A judge in response to a performance: “Nasty with class! I like it!”
The judges to a roaster: “EWWWW!” “Raunchy!” and awkward silence.
The roaster, in his defense (and blushing): “It’s a roast! They’re raunchy! You ever seen one? I thought everyone was gonna roll with it!”
You’re all waiting for a transcript from the actual roastery slam, aren’t you? Too bad. Our lips are sealed! But if you want to check out our fun, the next Bolton Workshop at Arnold Hall will be Monday, March 19 at 7:15PM. We hope to see you there! We promise we’ll play nice.