☞Wasteland Warlock☜ (kingfox) wrote,
☞Wasteland Warlock☜

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Story time

I'm a little intoxicated. Quite a few drinks at strawberrygal's wedding. So you all get the treat of a rare personal entry of my thoughts and feelings, instead of some carefully constructed persona posting in order to A) get comments B) get friends C) not piss off family/co-workers/loved ones/whatever D) maintain the lie. I used to make entries like this all the time, if you read back to the first couple years of my journal. But as more and more people close to me started reading this, I started to self-censor, like most of you. So here goes me flying from the hip. I'll probably friends-only this shit, if not make it private. If I do the latter, I'll have to link back to it a few times, to increase the paranoia a bit around here. Good times.

My life is so ruled by WoW, I haven't even been running marnanel for most of you daily, and skipped a few days. KoL is also suffering, good thing I'm playing an oxygenarian.

Now that most of you stopped reading, based off that last line, here goes story time. It's the story of two weddings, or maybe one if I fall asleep before getting to the other. There's a few weddings I never posted about, like cessna182s or petemagyar's brother Rudy's. But these are not their stories, though they were wonderful weddings with memorable moments. I will recap them possibly at some point. This is the story of strawberrygal's wedding and the wedding that took place ten years ago today in New Brunswick. Too often I keep on saying I'll recap something (Vermont where we met Jerry from Ben and Jerry, the life-changing islands trip, wideathtrip, the trip to Victoria) and take forever or never do it. I make some excuse in my head, like waiting for the photos, or I post the photos and wait for something else. But I'm not waiting for the photos to tell these stories.

Tonight, petemagyar's sister strawberrygal tied the knot. Their family is a special family to me. Whenever I was feeling alone in the world, they were there. Throughout high school, I spent an inordinate amount of time there with them. After college, when I had a falling out with my family and was a dick, they were the family I spent holidays with when single. Thanksgiving, Easter, Christmas, you name it - it was often with them, with an exception or two like the wonderful Easter and Christmas with hiphopatcong's family. They welcomed me with open arms, and were always great people. petemagyar's been my friend though high school, college, and beyond. So I know quite a bit about his family, and have been there for them and vice versa many times.

Their father, as many of you know, is dying. Cancer. He's got it bad. Like many males in my life who followed Atkins strictly. Unlike Father Joe, George, or the others, he didn't beat it. A few years ago, they gave him a few years to live. There's been ups and downs ever since, as there often is. There was the night of the power outage in NYC when petemagyar ran into his father on the streets of NYC while I was wandering around the_boke trying to sign our lease. There were nights he got a bad prognosis and wandered off. There were times the doctors were utterly amazed with his progress, and there were the treatments put off. There were complications, problems, and victories. But ultimately, they're buying him time at this point.

His only daughter (strawberrygal)'s been dating a wonderful guy for nine years now. Beyond his great taste in women, he's got excellent tastes in music and such, and we agree on everything except politics for the most part. A decent, down to earth, stand-up guy willing to go the distance for people. He treats her like a princess, and has been a wonderful partner, except for taking nine years to marry her. We all thought she was going to be the first to wed, but out of nowhere, the eldest brother met someone and married her. They then moved out west, and both worked at where Lazar saw alien ships. He's a physicist, but doesn't look like Gordon Freeman, despite working at the same place. But that's not his story.

So the daughter finally got engaged, and has been planning today's wedding. Her father's health was in decline, and a few weeks ago it looked like he might not make it to the wedding. But he pulled through, and made it to giving away his only daughter. While he had to be wheeled into the church, he walked her down the aisle, and sang through the service. He got out of his wheelchair to dance with her at the reception, and told a story afterwards about the two dancing after school while her mother was at work late that left jenniever in tears. The expressions on their face during the dance ran the whole gambit, and conveyed a staggering amount of pure emotion. Words cannot describe the feelings most of the room felt watching them dance.

As soon as I get the pictures from jenniever, I'll post them. You'll see us all doing shots of Pucker, KG getting all sweaty, jenniever and I looking all snazzy, and lots of good family shots. We danced, we drank, we had a marvelous time. The service was beautiful, the reception was a blast, and they pulled off a wonderful wedding despite the possibly bleak outlook going into things.

I think they're great people, and wish them luck on their new life together.

Ten years ago, a young couple got married. Their families didn't show. Few people did. But those who did, had a fun time. Rutgers has a cathedral, Kirkpatrick Cathedral, that graduates can get married at. Just like drewuniversity has Mead Hall, they have this. The story's a little fuzzy in my mind thanks to all the booze, but here goes. M and A were a young couple, she was 18 and he was 19 (almost 20), starting their time at Rutgers in New Brunswick. They had been dating for a bit, and were still finding their place in the world. Details on this part are off in my head, but I think they decided to put their names in on the long waiting list for the cathedral, and somehow got to the front of the line. They had to either get married then, or wait six or so years. I could be wrong on that shit. But anyway, they were getting married. Their families wanted nothing to do with it, thought it was a horrible idea, and very few people showed up to the wedding. It was a small service, with less than two dozen people total, and an odd feel to it. KG ended up giving the bride away, as her father wasn't there. The groom walked down the aisle in shorts and sandals. Before, during, and after the wedding many M:TG jokes were made, as that was the summer where we all played it religiously.

The way there was full of events. That summer we (ashamed to admit this) liked to drive around shouting things at people. Like ``URBORG'', the name of a random M:TG card. Really pathetic, I know. This was often done at four or so in the morning, driving people home after a long night of playing. So this day we had to pick up people from all over central Jersey, and had some fun along the way.

On the way to 2 Blue's house, KG cursed out some golfers. He managed to get most of his torso out of the car, and screamed at them through a fence. My memory has him saying, ``Hey you! Fuck you, you motherfucking golfer fuckers, you!'' while he remembers a slightly different string of f-bombs and no trailing ``you''. They stood there in utter shock, not knowing how to process some random guy screaming obscenities from the road at them.

At 2 Blue's house, the driver of the car went up to ring the doorbell. As he was nearing the doorbell, KG started leaning on the horn. He refused to let up, until the driver made it back to the car. Just at that moment, 2 Blue's older brother emerged from the house, gave the driver a dirty look, and slunk back inside to get his brother. The driver was so pissed that it looked like he was responsible. I guess you had to be there.

Anyway, we continued our immature antics, screaming at people. At some point heading into Highland Park, some large guy in a pickup started tailing us. We assumed he was after us because we shouted something at him, and were trying to give him the slip. Finally he pulled up next to us in a right turn only lane in the middle of Highland Park, and motioned for us to roll down the window. Nervously, we rolled down the passenger side windows, and asked him what was up.
``Just wanted to tell you fellas to have a FAN-TASTIC day!''
Shocked, we mumbled a thank you, and drove off. Truly random.

After the wedding, we went back to their small studio apartment in New Brunswick, and played M:TG on their wedding bed. At some point the groom made a speech about all of us being able to call on him for anything in our lives in return for being there for him on his big day, and I passed out. Possibly before. In fact, I think it was before, because later someone talked about him motioning to me and saying, ``Even this guy!'' We didn't know each other that well, he quit/got kicked off the field team, and that was our only real interaction before that. Since then I've gotten to know him a bit better, and found out what an amazing selfless stand-up guy he is. Side story about that:

One time, he was at a restaurant with a petemagyar and maybe another person or two. He saw a young looking couple looking at the rather pricey menu, debating what they could get and what they could afford. They talked about all the wonderful things they'd like to try, and what they'd have to end up eating. He called over the waiter, and ordered them all of the fancy dishes they mentioned on his bill. What a guy.

Right now, they're doing quite well. He's a VP for a large company you've heard of, and they just bought a huge new house. So now, on their tenth anniversary, they're celebrating with a huge bash. Now both families will come, now it's no longer a mistake in everyone's eyes, and now they can afford more of a party than soda and Magic cards. He really wanted the people who were at his wedding to be there, and it will be an honor to celebrate their anniversary. Ten years. Holy fucking shit, ten years ago?

The two weddings tie into each other, as there's the big PGA thing going down right near where the reception was tonight, and some random PGA groupies crashed the open bar. PGA - cursing at golfers - it all comes full circle.

Funny thing about that random guy wishing us a fantastic day, actually. So when petemagyar got to drewuniversity, he got into email. Sure, we had done the BBS thing and I had dabbled in teh intarnets, but this was his first real foray into this world. He enjoyed emailing back and forth with his older brother, having an IM-ish conversation. He enjoyed harassing people through the messaging system on the Campus Wide Information System (CWIS), but he enjoyed adding people to his fantastic day list most of all. Every weekday he would send all of the recipients on the list a simple wish; he wanted them all to have a fantastic day, in honor of that random big guy in a pickup with long grey hair. He'd add every resident assistant to the list, every student government person on a list, and tons of random people he'd only talked to once. He'd send emails to deans and the president of the university, wishing them a fantastic day. A certain dean that mrfantasy's boss reports to actually wished petemagyar a fantastic day back, and thanked him for the email. Or maybe it was whoever was reading their email.
Eventually, the list was usurped, and quickly became the Mr. Box list. Man, I'm rambling tonight. I bet no one's reading at this point. Testing, testing... 1...2...3.

So, when I started at drewuniversity, I still had a girlfriend back home. You know, the biggest mistake anyone can ever make? The trying to keep a girlfriend into college thing? Yeah, I'm a moron. This was the tail-end of my dirty whorish period, where I went through a LONG chain of short relationships, between two weeks to two months. The girl from the love triangle I posted about a year or two ago (messiest breakup ever, tied in later to the funeral I attended) wanted to get back together with the guy she dragged me out to the night of our first date. She wanted to show me off to her ex, who I thought was the most awesome metal guy out there, and then a couple of years later wanted me to hook them back up. A few of you oldschool BBSers probably know exactly who all the players involved are (dasubergeek and albinomare certainly do). So, in return for helping her get with the guy (who in those two years seemed less like a metal god and more like the Cookie Monster - maybe it was me that changed), she'd hook me up with her friend. Her young, cute, randy friend. Bubbly and sweet, looking kind of like Jewel, and currently on a guy kick. She was dating a guy, but it was going to end very soon, but that still made me nervous. To make a long story short, she broke up with the guy and started dating me (leaving me subconsciously upset). Some guy who hated me and wanted her again was really mad at me, and she was a Rocky girl (hi damnitnicole). Up until this point, many girls I had slept with/dated ended up getting involved with Rocky (which I never did). This one was ALREADY a Rocky girl. She took me there, she tried to set up my twenty-four year old friend with her fifteen year old friend (she was almost sixteen and I was eighteen, by the way), and she creeped out stepson with a hug. When college started, she came up to visit once, and I tried to go down and visit. Things ended poorly, I screamed at her while she went to cheat on me with someone she was asking to sleep with, and I was upset.

Side note (ANOTHER): she asked to fool around with some woman she had been with. She said I should be cool with it, as it was a female. HELLO - cheating == cheating. It wasn't a poly relationship. She countered with being ok if I fooled around with any of my male friends. I tried to convince her where I was coming from, and I think I finally did. But when things got rough, she ended up in her arms. Years later, maidoftheshore's brother married said woman. AND YOU PEOPLE WONDER WHY I GOT THE HELL OUT OF CENTRAL JERSEY.

Anyway, point I'm getting to. Oh yeah, Mister Box. So one night I was really bummed about this relationship going sour, and it was early on in the school year. I was flirting with some young computer science major, comparing our knowledge bases, and then moping at petemagyar about my love life. To try to cheer me up, he grabbed a random box from the lounge we were in (Welch-Holloway for you Drewids out there). He drew a face on two of the sides of the box, and named it Mr. Box. Little did we know, he had just created a legacy.

Mister Box, at first, lived in his room. There was a note written on the box, asking that those who find the box return it to his freshman year room in Tolley. When he went home for weekends, he asked that I watch Mister Box. The usurping of the mailing list began with an email from me replying to all asking people to visit Mister Box and my roomie over the course of the weekend. From there, the list slowly transformed into a Mister Box email chain. People would visit to pay tribute to Mister Box.

noelr can correct me on the timeline for the following, but one weekend Mr. Box went missing. He was supposed to be in hiphopatcong's room, but only some cardboard scraps remained, with a fish symbol on one of them. They were gathered into a bag, and a whole murder mystery was launched. ``Who killed Mr. Box?'' Accusations flew. I wasn't around that weekend, but was still listed as a suspect. I wish I could find the list of suspects, it was pretty fucking funny. Anyway, we had a funeral for Mr. Box, on the Welch-Holloway Beach (the area on top of the lounge where you can't go anymore). It was rescheduled twice, and moved due to rain, yet still got a better turn out than many events I've seen at drewuniversity. One of the attendees was a wonderful young girl who would die in a tragic fire later on that year, the girl the tree next to the rear of BC is dedicated to. I insisted on taking the body from the toss into the dumpster to continue my investigation. Many moving eulogies were given, including an adaptation of Julius Ceasar by Shakespear. It was a touching service.

Later, noelr revealed that I was right in constantly accusing him. He had faked the death (I thought the scraps didn't match Mr. Box's thickness/coloration), and Mr. Box was ``alive''. We brought him to petemagyar's Tolley room, having him hover outside the window until petemagyar noticed and happily brought him back in.

For the Holiday Ball that winter, Mr. Box got dressed up with a bow tie. Good times.

When the fantastic day/Mr. Box mailing list got out of control, our RA got a long rambling voicemail from our RD about the situation. I overheard the voicemail, and wish I had a copy. ``They made some box, they ask that people worship it, it died, it rose from the dead. I don't know what's going on with that floor, but it needs to stop.''

Also that year, fmrflyboy kicked Mr. Box accidentally in front of a bunch of us. We beat him up outside of our RA's door, until the RA untangled himself from his girlfriend (they used to keep the whole floor up) to yell at us. Well, not really yell at us. He just suggested that we hang him off the roof or something instead. So we took fmrflyboy up to the roof to punish him. We duct taped him to a chair, and put a large sign on him. Fuzzy tired/drunk mind here, but I think it said something like, ``I kicked Mr. Box. I am nothing, I am scum, I deserve to die.'' We whipped him, and left him tied there. People were walking back and forth from a party on Holloway 2nd back to Welch, and drunkenly agreed with our damning assessment of the situation. At some point a large friend of mine from back home pushed fmrflyboy over while he was still taped into the chair, which was uncool.

That summer (while I was living with cessna182 in San Francisco feet away from khephra) there was some drama over the box in the same guestbook referenced here. Read on:
Jodi (jodonnel@drew.edu) on Wed Jul 16 1:05:25 1997 wrote....
Hello all, well, since Noel suggested it, I guess I will post again to this crazy book. Noel, when I think of you raising hell, I think of much more than the death of Mr. Box. YOu know, I was there when Mr. Box was born. It was a long time ago, in the W/H lounge. I was playing cards there, and Mr Magyar had a box and a marker, and, well, we all know the rest of that story.... but is Mr box really dead? I swear I saw him still alive and well in Bob's room....oh well, enough about Mr box. Noel just got me started on teh topic. Anyway, I really have absolutely nothing worthwhile to say, so I should just shut the hell up. Oh, one thing...Hi Marc! Okay, enough from me. Jodi

The One and Only High Lord Minty (lordofillusions@hellspawn.com) on Wed Jul 16 19:04:11 1997 wrote....
Not Bob, I say again, you never fail to amuse me. Keep it up, compadre. As for Mr. Box, I think you might want to make a phone call to Bob the Jedi Master, that little kid across the hall. I saw Mr. Box in Russel Spraig's room when I helped his dad do landscaping. His dad is much cooler than he is. Not that he's not cool, but he's in CA so I can say whatever the hell I want with no fear of a long angry phonecall coming my way. The Guaranteed Eternal Sanctuary Man needs to get a real handle, like "The Dark Lord" or "Diadems" or "Beezlebub". In fact, the lot of you need cooler names. What the fuck is "Towel Boy"? "Harry Bernard"? You sound like a bunch of kids on Barney. You need cool handles, like "Not Bob" or "Machine of Hate". In conclusion, I just have a few questions. A> Which definition of Chode is correct Steve? B> which one of you punks wants to make fun of colleges? So what if Noel's not going to a good college, I got to Union County College (UCLA, Union County's Last Alternative), and I get a damn GOOD education. Buttmunches. I'm going to be a physics major, and transferring to Seton Hall, home of WSOU, this year. So suck it up, you snot-nosed "I go to Drew and I pay alot of money" freaks. Because that's all you are, FREAKS! FREAKS!!! Why pay that much money? It's on CRACK COCAINE as my long time friend Peter Magyar would say. Your dorms are small, they smell, in fact they're just like Kean College. Your food sucks compared to FDU's, and you're wasting money and time. I didn't know what was going though Mr. Spraig's head and Peter Magyar's head when they signed up for Drew. At least there's a cool fence you can hide behind to smoke up in the back. C> Who's rooming with James "Boy Scout of America" Winans if our little bundle of emotion doesn't get him for another year? D> What's with the Star Wars references? You people go to college with Pete, get some Star Trek references, you freaks. E> Where's that damned Hawaiin? He, mr. Spraig, and Mr. Moo-Jar left a damned annoying drunken message on my machine, and I want to kick that kid's ass. First he kicks Mr. Box, RIGHT IN FRONT OF US, then he runs away, then we tie him to the roof, then he fills my machine up while I'm in wisconsin fucking the hell out of my girlfriend!! Some representitive from Hawaii. I say we nuke the place. F> What's with the oral sex and hwang thing? Sounds interesting. Pete told me about that kid, I'd love to be locked in a room with him for an hour or two. Yeah. Anything with him and oral sex, it's liek imagining Mike Maeng getting some. G> Which one of you freaks actually lives in NJ? Representing the Rahway Roughnecks, Word is Bond, Leo, Word is Bond. H> Why should Harry resent being a product of Not Bob's imagination? Not Bob's a funny guy, and could come up with things much cooler than Harry, so Harry should be honored. I> I don't know any of this SHITML crap, but go to Not bob's page. It's fun for the eyes. J> Later, Thank you, Thanks for playing, HASTA!!!!!!!! -The Dark Lord

Jodi (jodonnel@drew.edu) on Thu Jul 17 1:09:30 1997 wrote....
Okay, damn, it looks as though I am getting hooked into this thing... I was not going to say anything, I just wante dto see what Noel had to say about mr box. Bu now I have something to say. I don;t know who the hell lord minty is...CUT FOR LENGTH

Marc D'Ambrose (Towel Boy) (Genesis69@aol.com) on Thu Jul 17 2:04:43 1997 wrote....
Listen chodes. This is TOWEL BOY, alive and real and I AM THE ONE WHO HAS BEEN POSTING ALL ALONG. I go out for one night and come back to find an e-mail from Noel telling me that Steve thinks I am not real. Then I come here and find that Noel is telling people he posted as me. Noel, this is a warning, you are going too far. I think you realize what I can hold over you. So I am declaring once and for all that I am Towel Boy and the above address is real. Furthermore, P. Chode does not exist. It was my first ever post to the guestbook. The e-mail address is that of a friend of mine. CUT SOME STUFF HERE Lord Minty, while I never actually met you your name has become legend on Welch 1st. But don't knock the nicknames man. We're all people who respect you, and it's a slap in the face to hear you attack Drew. When it comes down to it, it doesn't matter where you go to college. In the end the ultimate responsibility is on the individual and what he/she does with their potential. Regarding Russ, I don't think individual prayer alone will help. I am calling for a Feff Worldwide service in hope for Doug and I. All major religions will be accepted. And no, I don't think Russ & Mary stories should be posted here. Finally, how the hell did Russ end up w. Mr. Box? Now he's gonna claim some fucking right to him in Sept., I just know it. Actually, I was supposed to take care of Mr. Box being that I did such a good job over Jan Term, but Bob was nowhere to be found the day I left. Do I have everyone's understanding? The real Marcus Anthony D'Ambrose a.k.a. Towel Boy is reading and posting to this guestbook. While it would be hard to prove that a post by me was fake, I'll do my best to let you all know when it happens. I thought we agreed to ban fake posts by people who already existed. Anyway, I think I've covered everything. "STAY REAL" -- Towel Boy
petemagyar gave noelr rights to Mr. Box in return for some Ultima collection, but he agreed to let him live with hiphopatcong, towelboy, and I. So Mr. Box lived with us in ``the triple'' our sophomore year at Drew. When towelboy was hitting on a girl, we told her petemagyar's names for the two faces he had. There was his sexually satisfied smiley face, and his sexually deviant side. towelboy joked further that we turned it around every time hiphopatcong pleasured himself. A bit later, from under his covers, presumably asleep, hiphopatcong asked that Mr. Box be turned around, leaving us all hysterically laughing. Week after week, we watched Star Trek with petemagyar, with the benevolent face of Mr. Box smiling down on us. He still had the crease from where fmrflyboy kicked him, he was a bit worn on the corners, but he was there.

Unfortunately, our time with Mr. Box was near an end. When packing up the room, a number of boxes were left behind, including Mr. Box. Blame was assigned, fingers were pointed (I blamed towelboy's father, noelr blamed me). We never saw Mr. Box again... or did we? And that's all I've got to say about Mr. Box.

Wow. I should ramble less.

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