How TFM Helped Me Rage My Balls Off On Graduation Day

Christian Mingle10 years ago

I’m Christian Mingle. Some of you might know me as the idiot who begged for people to give me money on GoFundMe to sponsor a celebratory bender after my college graduation. Well, thanks to the kind public, it somehow worked, and I ended up with a nice little chunk of change. Now, I know myself well enough to know that I should not be trusted with that much money and the pressure to spend it all. It’s like my mom used to always say, “I don’t trust you, Christian.” Ha, love you, too, Mom. Since some of you folks are the very people who donated, I feel that it’s my duty to share how that money was spent. Without further ado, here’s a recap of the day I graduated from UW-Madison.

8:10 AM: Get woken up from an ethanol-induced coma by my buddies pounding on my door. I promptly tell them to “chill and let me fucking sleep because my head feels like a fucking pressure cooker.” They kindly remind me that it’s Saturday, and I should probably get ready for my commencement ceremony.

8:15 AM: Fuck. What do I wear? Whatever. Grab clothes and make sure I actually have my cap and gown and whatever other necessary graduation items. Shower so that I don’t smell like a piece of whiskey-soaked garbage.

9:00 AM: Meet up with some friends for breakfast and mimosas at The Vintage, a popular bar and restaurant. We quickly turn mimosas into screwdrivers. Screwdrivers then somehow turn into bear fights. For those of you that don’t know, bear fights are a classy little adventure in which you rapidly consume an Irish Car Bomb, and immediately follow it with a Jäger Bomb. I don’t know who conceived this, but I owe them a passionate kiss on the lips and a swift punch in the jaw. So thanks to you guys, I bought these for my friends and me to kick the day off right. My buddy, Jared, took his like a bitch almost regurgitated the Irish Car Bomb.

After the graduation ceremony, I went back to my house for some cookout action with family and friends. It was pretty low-key, and most of you depraved lunatics would probably be disappointed by how normal it was. So I’ll move on to my night out. I asked my mom if she wanted to join us, to which she replied, “I don’t want to see this.” Mom is such a jokester.

8:30 PM: Arrive at the Kollege Klub, lovingly known to regulars as the KK.

8:31 PM: Buy a round of tequila shots for me and whoever wants them to start things off. Thanks for your donation, some random guy in Kentucky!

8:35 PM: Make sure everyone’s good and situated with pitchers. We then start drinking at cruising speed, which equates to about a beer every five minutes, or every twenty minutes if you’re Jared.

9:00 PM: Jared’s mom asks for a shot of Rumchata. I was slightly appalled to find out that I was charged $6 for what essentially equates to the milk you drink after you finish a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

9:40 PM: After flying through something in the neighborhood of eleven pitchers, we heard some people saying that there might be some bears in the area. Being extremely territorial, my friends and I decide that we should fight them. This group includes my buddy’s 50-something-year-old father. Way to answer the call to arms, Chuck!

10:00 PM: Holy shit, maybe these bears are winning. Stuff starts to get pretty blurry from here on out. The Red Bull lifted me up, only to have its friend, Jameson, sucker punch me in the face. I’ve gotta stay strong. I’ve got more GoFundMe money to blow.

Sometime around 12:00 AM: We’re dancing, maybe. Who knows? Drinks and words are being exchanged with girls and we’re all having a blast. I’m close to the point of no return now. What’s that you said, hot blonde? We should do some more tequila shots? That’s an idea I can get behind. I go to the bar and order the shots. The quantity goes up with every familiar face I see.

12:45 AM: I decide it’s time for a change of scenery, and some of my friends are at Roast, another popular Madison spot. At least that’s what I’m told. I don’t actually have any recollection of this part, but apparently my friends and I got a few rounds and sang some drinking songs with some older grads from our fraternity. The receipts I later found in my pocket confirmed this to the tune of $96.00.

1:30 AM: At this point, I become very adamant that I get a picture on Abe’s lap, a tradition amongst UW-Madison graduates. I told my friends that I absolutely had to do it for my mom because “she’s already so disappointed in me.” So, naturally, we head to Hawk’s, another bar, to drink some more.

1:50 AM: I ask the bartender for a bottle of Spotted Cow because I want to take it up Bascom Hill with me to drink with Abe. It seems that Hawk’s only has it on draught, because my friends told me I made a bit of a scene when expressing my disappointment to the bartender. I’m sorry, but I had a vision that I was trying to bring to fruition.

2:20 AM: My friends and make the long, drunk and arduous trek up Bascom Hill. I climb up the statue of Abe Lincoln, which is deceptively high, especially considering I had the motor skills of relatively underdeveloped five-year-old at this point. Once I finally get up there, I declare that it was too much work, I’d come too far, and I will be sleeping there. Thankfully, I have friends who are a little smarter than me. They’re kind enough to throw rocks at me until I come down, probably helping me avoid a ticket of some sort (sleeping on a statue? Precarious homelessness? I don’t know, exactly, but I’m sure The Man would have found a way to bring me down)

2:30 AM: I clamber down from Abe and am immediately tackled by my friend Andy, who I hadn’t seen all night. We then proceed to drunkenly wrestle on the hill until people break us up because they think we’re actually fighting. They’re confused when we can’t stop laughing like idiots. You’re twice my size and wrestle like a bitch, Andy.

2:37 AM: I need to go swimming. Like, now. Get me in that motherfucking lake. Lake Mendota is Manifest fucking Destiny right now, and either you’re with me, or you’re against me. I don’t know where this burning desire came from, but I inform my friends that that’s what’s happening. We all go through our phones, contacting any girl who might be dumb enough to join us, and head back towards our house, where we have a dock.

2:55 AM: We arrive at the house. As we’re crossing the front yard, I get the notion that my friend, Cody, needs to get put on the ground right now. I promptly form tackle him without warning. Now, I’m not in awful shape, but Cody is a personal trainer, and in incredible shape. In my mind, I had just taken LeSean McCoy down. I stand up, victorious and laughing. Cody gets up and delivers a strong slap to my face. Can’t knock him for that. I was asking for it.

3:03 AM: We’re on the dock looking out over the still, black Lake Mendota. Why are our clothes still on? If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right. We’re going into this lake like we came into the world: naked and with the mental capacity of infants. We strip down to our birthday suits. When we’re all ready, we jump.

HOLY FUCK!

Why the fuck are we in this lake right now?! It’s like one of those 5 Gum commercials, but instead of being suspended in the middle of an orb made out of thousands of cool, refreshing fans, it feels like I’m being violated by a glacier and simultaneously being kicked in the stomach by a mule whom I’d personally offended. I quickly come to the realization that my penis is somewhere behind my kidneys. It’s then that I decide it’s time for bed. My idiot mind and broken body had had enough.

After all was said and done, I spent close to $400 that night. If you handed me that money again and told me I could spend it on something else, I probably wouldn’t. It was a night for the books, and I hope my mom never sees this article. I want to thank everyone who donated and supported my degenerate habits. Now if anyone has a job they want to give me, that’s up next on my to-do list..