We Live For The Nights We Can't Remember, With The People We'll Never Forget
The Detour

The Detour

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Profile: Table Top

Table Top. If The Detour was a lab, Table Top would be our Professor Honeydew, the little scientist from the Muppets. He’s a bit ridiculous. He’s…mostly green. And on top of it all, he’s a genius….but only about stuff he truly cares about. His passions and inventions can be sorted into a small subset of categories; alcoholic accessories, ridiculous costumes (from Max at the Where the Wild Things Are Premiere to the Christmas Light Rigged Underwear he used for Undie Run, a la Daft Punk), and…well mostly just that. In normal, non-partying life, you will never find him awake before 12pm, very rare that he has a class before then. By 1pm, he can mostly be found in front of the television, beating playstation 3 and xbox360 games on impossible levels, or crafting out his video making dreams in front of the computer. He can honestly be described as the only person in the Detour who will be completely fine and successful in his career. It’s probably the reason he slacks off so much now

Despite the visions that the previous description immediately invokes, Table Top is a multi-faceted, kind hearted character.  His name derives from a mid-week, midnight mishap.  During what was normally a very quiet and reserved night, the residents of the Detour faced a dilemma. Their prized possession, Table Top’s Wood Carved, surround sound rigged beer pong table was being moved, as the Resident Director of our dorm room building (we live on campus, remember? It’s easy to forget) was none too pleased about it being dead center of our apartment. The boys mourned the loss with a few last games, each ball thrown with a heavy hand. As the guys sat and talked about the loss of the table, Burglar took a deep breath. “I wanted three things to happen this year on the table. I wanted, in a drunken stupor, for someone to dance on the table, to hook up on the table, and to end up sleeping on the table.” It was quickly decided that Table Top had no class the next day, and nothing of importance in his life, so he became the poster child for the ultimate threefold goal, accomplished all at once. With the help of snorkeling vodka and chasing it with multiple beers, Table Top got drunk enough to, very quickly, tear off his clothes, dance around, and slap anyone in the face who tried to keep him from falling. Sadly, he was far too drunk to appear attractive to anyone, and much too defeated with a ruined streak to attempt sleeping on such a hard surface. And so, Table Top passed out in his bed, only to be awaken a few hours later and dressed by Mom for a 4am fire alarm. It would also be the moment when Mom’s name became official, since having to dress the people who live in your place of residence is only ok if one of them is your child.

He is somewhat timid when it comes to hooking up, but despite his seeming lack of action, his ambitions are high. It can be said that he has an expertise with the home field advantage, a natural player and sex magnet when he is in his high altitude, high alcohol level mountain city. He provides a moral opposite to Burglar while maintaining a level of recklessness greater than Mom’s. His greatest inspiration is his big bro in the fraternity, Suit, an expert party host who became the guiding light to many young freshman party boys. When he visits, Table Top parties. When he calls, Table Top strongly thinks about partying. At a recent party, Table Top was exhaustedly pulled out of his bed purely by guilt that he wasn’t living up to Suit’s glorious legacy.

Table Top enjoys “beaner candy”, inserting himself and his friends into popular video games, and wrestling.  Wrestling, however, only means wrestling when everyone involved is plastered, and when there are obstacles for people to run into. After a very drunk fraternity date party, Table Top and Burglar ended up fighting in the living room for the entertainment of at least ten people. To best his opponent and appear more badass, Burglar was tossed into our giant decorative street light while being lightly slapped in the head while Table Top, with the sincerity and joy of a ten year old, exclaimed to the camera, “I’m winning, I’m winning.” On another famous occasion, Table Top decided to very drunkenly go to bed after failing to hook up with his very hot date for formal. When Melons retorted “Night Table Top, nice job hooking up with your date,” Table Top suddenly became a ninja style assassin, pivoting in one graceful swoop and slapping Melons so hard and so quickly that he flew off the ground and onto the floor, giggling excessively, nose bleeding. Table Top had to be reminded of it the next morning.

It’s weird to say he’s one of the quieter, gentler members of the Detour

Profile: Melons

Ha. Hahahahaha. Melons.

If Einstein, Anthony Rapp, and Nate Ruess had a love child, you’d have Melons. Essentially.

There is very little to not like about Melons. One of the younger brethren with Closet Case, he became very close friends with Table Top and was often invited to hang out at the Detour. And, much like a longterm boyfriend or girlfriend, if you’re involved with them long enough, they will eventually move all of their stuff into your place, drink all of your booze, and never leave.

That’s how it works, right?

Anyway, Melons is both the smartest and dumbest individual at The Detour. He is the smartest person because of his god given intellect. Melons is an honor student, and has the unique ability to be able to jump into any conversation about anything with anybody; he talks with Mom about Ben Folds and the West Australian Symphony Orchestra Concert, Tabletop about the schematics of electricity and lighting, and can talk at length about Greek mythology or his detailed study on the scientific integrity of the Gaydar. He is the dumbest person because of his natural inclination to do moronic things, usually with the help of his good friends, “generous amounts of alcohol”, and “an occasional weed brownie”.

In fact, his name derives from a night where he got extremely wasted and, angry he couldn’t hook up with a girl he had been a gentlemen about courting for the last month (as he usually does), tried to find the closest thing around to hook up with. That “thing” is…well, practically a thing; a large boobed individual who shall not be named, much like Voldermort or Snookie. We woke up to find Melons entangled with a girl taller than him, on our couch, the blacklight reflecting her white bra, his blonde hair, and his dumbass smile. We’ve seen that smile plenty of times, the cute but innocent “Life is pretty good” smile.

Life is pretty good, Melons. Though you should probably get your shit together.

Profile: Closet Case

If Closet Case was to explain his name, odds are he’d probably first awkwardly giggle, say “It’s not like it sounds, I swear” and then pretend he doesn’t have to explain that he got his name by getting extremely drunk and peeing in a closet.

I’m amused to say that has been one of the better nights.

Closet Case, or CC, is one of the new guys, the younger brethren who is still living his first wild year of college. As long as he’s still living, we’ve done our job as mentors to guide him.

Closet Case started his year as a guest of The Detour, one of those guys who wanted to hang out with us all the time but didn’t know how exactly to do so. In fact, to fit in, he once went so far as to complete a laundry list of completely ridiculous tasks and tribulations, such as grabbing bras from random rooms, stealing an entire street sign, and many other things that we’d rather not go into. But he did it, some of them drunk, to prove he was worthy. Any man who comes in piss drunk on a Wednesday morning (circa 1am) carrying a street sign, pole still attached, with his only warning being a text that reads “You’re gonna wanna stay up for this” is welcome around these parts any day.

Closet Case has been one of the more conservative roommates in terms of women; for the first three to four months of school, he was casually involved with the BOS (Big ‘Ol Slut, who is a dear, dear friend). However, he makes up his conservation of hookups with his wasting of his alcohol and his bevy of drunken heart-to-hearts experienced in the luxurious vicinity of Mom’s bathroom floor.

Closet Case could, all in all, be considered the team mascot of the Detour. The Charlie of our Philadelphia Bar. Screech. He’s got a whole lot of heart, but he will always and forever be one of our most ridiculous friends.

Profile: Burglar

Do you know that guy at the party? That guy, the one who knocks you out of the beer pong tournament, scores with the girl you want to score with, and then has the balls to charm you with an apology? That’s Burglar. On a good night, anyway. The backbone of the group, he is all around a good guy. Talented writer. Fun person to banter with. Even the shoulder to cry on given your day has been bad. This is the burglar

By day.

But by night, the Burglar works differently. Some say he suffers from alcoholism. Others, nymphomania. It’s even been rumored that he was once bitten by a radioactive “bro” at a Blink-182 concert. To us, he’s our best friend. Our best friend who is also a compulsive drinker of Southern Comfort, a gigolo to women that most of us have never met, and an occasional smoker (if the occasion is that things are going bad with [insert girl’s name here]). He is the initiator of the best stories, the man with the worst hangovers, and the guy who can laugh it all off the next day. His reputation precedes him, but deep down, his heart is there. He loves midnight movies, Risk, and…well women. But I suppose that’s implied.

Burglars, however, can sometimes get caught. Sure, odds are our Burglar will never get into any real trouble or face any actual repercussions with his frat boy actions, but a Burglar is defeated when he can no longer rob anybody. Enter Merry-Go-Round, Burglar’s on-again off-again fuck buddy. It’s hands down Burglar’s greatest frustration; a girl who has led Burglar on, who has broken his heart many a time, and yet he always, always, ends up back with her for some reason or another. What started as a sad train wreck for his friends to watch became a sad train wreck for his friends to bet on, to heckle about, to ultimately time and time again question his sanity. And yet, time has shown that there is some sort of natural attraction here that no one else can understand.

But when Burglar isn’t tied down, caught, or emotionally shackled, he’s out. Roving. Being one of the most interesting people, credible individuals, professional man, or all around good guy you have ever met, by day. By night, he’s much more entertaining

Welcome to the Detour

de·tour n

1. A roundabout way or course.
2.
A deviation from a direct course of action.

3. A place to drink.  Excessively.

The Detour is not a place.  Although it is a tangible, physical location, The Detour is not a place.

The Detour is a legacy.  An inheritance.  Enlightenment.  The Detour is the collision of everything your parents, grandparents, other relatives, teachers, soccer coaches, and less-cool friends ever told you not to do.

And then some.

The first part of a person’s personality to dissolve in alcohol is their dignity.  This fact is what makes much of what will follow possible.

What will follow?

Stories.  Stories that detail the antics of a group of young men.  Young men with incredibly big egos.  With bigger dicks.

And even bigger problems.

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