It's time for a new Christmas story.

Around this time of year you hear many stories....Some involve Dasher, and Dancer, and Prancer and Vixon. Other stories speak of Frosty the Snowman. And then there’s Santa Clause, the jolliest man of them all. But today, I think it’s time a different Christmas story is told. One of joy, one of struggle, but in the end there is comfort and peace. I call it the Eggnog story.

It all starts in place called Oregon. You see, one Christmas a few years ago, there was a teenager. The teenager liked to run; he also liked to drink eggnog. And as in any good Christmas tale, an idea was born. Now we’re not just talking about any ole’ idea here. We’re talking about an idea that revolutionizes runners, an idea more beautiful than Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel or possibly even Michael Jordan’s dunk from the foul line….We’re talking about the Eggnog 400.

Eggnog is powerful like a drug but delicious like pie. Eggnog is smooth like bacon and thicker than maple syrup on a Belgium Waffle.

It’s 10 am, Saturday morn. Christmas is two weeks away. Runners swarm the track. They gather around a table smothered with gallons of Eggnog, each takes a cup filled with 8 ounces of rich sugary bliss. They swig. They line up. They scream “EGGNOG!!!” and then they run a lap under 90 seconds, a breezy 6-minute mile pace. Finish your lap, fill your cup, drink it up, it’s time to run again. To win drink the most and run the longest, without throwing up. Once you lose it you’re out.

Christmas is a time of miracles, and the Eggnog 400 is no exception. This year, those that raced witnessed something of Eggnog History.

Eight ounces short of having drunk a gallon of eggnog, he jogged across the line, cup in hand. One more cup left. He refilled, he looked down. He began to drink. Maybe reality began to set it a little as he realized after his last sip that he’d just drunk a gallon of eggnog while having run 3 and ¾ miles. There was one thing left to do to break the record, he had to run with a gallon of eggnog in his stomach. The previous record was set by a runner who had run the same distance and drunk a gallon as well. Unfortunately, he threw up before he was able to start his last lap. All this runner had to do was run, 10 meters, 20 meters, anything. He started….he made it 50 meters with a gallon in his belly before it all came a tumblin’ down.

THis holiday season, tell you family a tale of people giving all they have in the true spirit of Christmas. Tell them about the Eggnog 400..and maybe if your lucky you'll get to see them throw up some eggnog next year.

A long awaited challenge.

The boys were restless. It’d been four years since we bought 203 Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers.

When we bought the 203 Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers, one of the main leaders, Nick, suggested that as a follow up we do a chicken nugget challenge. Now, four years later, we decided it was time.

The basement was cold. Three of us sat there chatting about strategy. A location was chosen and pizza delivery bags were secured to keep the nuggets toasty.

Hype increased as word of a chicken nugget challenge spread. Some had moved on, but we still had some solid eaters in the area. The day before we sent the text message to over 40 friends, each person was to bring 5 dollars. 40x5=200. 200 orders of chicken nuggets, 5 nuggets in each order= 1,000 chicken nuggets.

We’d been waiting 30 minutes for the others. A Wendy’s employee impatiently walked to our table, “You guys need to either buy something or leave because right now you’re just loitering.” “Oh, we’ll buy something.”

Of the 15 that were there, most people put in $5, and a couple of us pitched in $10. “$70! That’s all we have? Well, I guess we could just order the rest when everyone else gets here.” We sat there silently, unsure of what to do. That’s when our friend Taylor got serious. “There’s no way we’re not buying a 1,000!!” And threw down $70 of his own money onto the table.

Everyone followed putting in all they had. Nick held over $200 in his hand. He approached the counter. “Yeah, I’d like 200 orders of chicken nuggets.” “Um..hold on let me get my manger.” The girl replied. The manager, “Yes?” Nick, “I’d like 200 orders of chicken nuggets.” The manager turned to her employee, “Can we do that??” Stunned she was asked, the employee said the only logical thing she could, “Well he’s got the cash!” Nick waved the cash at her. The manager stopped. She paused. Then she yelled, “WE NEED NUGGETS NOW!!!!!”

Forty-five minutes later we began eating. Twenty-minutes later we stopped. Over 800 chicken nuggets were consumed. What of the other 200 you ask? Tyler took them to a homeless shelter. After all, everybody loves Wendy’s.

studying surprises

There are two types of people. There are those that like and understand math, and then there are normal people. Luckily, I fall under the normal people category. Sure, I may have to actually study to understand math, and having lived in Hawaii for a year, I may confuse square root signs for badly drawn waves; but overall, it’s worth it…most of the time.

It’s day three of test prep for Calc 119. After sitting in ten hours of test reviews in three days you’d think I’d be ready. Nope, test reviews don’t change my normal status so I’ve still got more to study…a lot more even if it’s Saturday afternoon.

I sat for three hours. Intervals, equations, and derivatives…lions and tigers and bears..it’s all the same to me. Tired but persistent, I started to find some measure of studying success. Then the text…

“Hey come to a party at my cabin at 7:30”

Calculus or a party? *Sigh… “Sorry I can’t come I’ve got homework. How’s everything going though?”

Somehow over the course of a few text messages it came up that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was a tad hungry. My friend offered to bring me food. I told her she was kind but didn’t have too. Being sweet and strong, she said, “Nope, what do you want?”

“Oh you know me, I’ll eat anything…just surprise me.”

Thirty minutes later, she walked through the doors of the Wilk carrying two bags of Wendy’s that I could swear were smiling at me. After salad, baked potatoes, and a chicken sandwich I was stuffed and satisfied. Oh, and did I mention that she also brought me a bowl of frozen yogurt sprinkled with strawberries and blueberries?

Earlier this week a professor asked us to find someone who was stressed out with studies and do something nice for them. In the stress of my studies, I forgot about the challenge but luckily my friend didn’t forget about me.

Bacon!!! Bacon!! Bacon!!!

It started with a joke, “What if we if we bought 100 junior-bacon cheeseburgers from Wendy’s in one order??”

When your high school is located in a town called Plain City, you know there probably isn’t a lot going on beside cow tipping and toilet papering, neither of which I have done (wink-wink). As teenage boys we always had an ear open when it came to anything that was random or crazy…….or both.

So when our friend jokingly said “What if we bought 100 junior-bacon cheeseburgers from Wendy’s in one order??” We laughed, oh for about 2.7 seconds, then the magic began to happen…faces turned serious, eyes got big, and mouths started to water.

Any good operation requires careful strategic planning.

The time: We decided that our efforts would be most beneficial to society if we got to Wendy’s shortly before the end of our school’s basketball game thereby clogging Wendy’s orders so that no one else would be able to get anything. Let’s face it; we live in a country full of people who just need to shed some holiday pounds.

The place: Wendy’s (duh)

The crew: Twenty-ish high school boys including The Chosen Two (2 of our friends both over 6 feet and both over 300 pounds.)

The last-minute change of plans: We decided that 100 Junior Bacons wasn’t enough…so we decided to buy….

Our basketball team was winning handily, there were 4:29 seconds left in the 4^th. It was go time. We quickly exited, jumped in our cars and sped down the road…our girl Wendy awaited us. We walked in, assembled the cash n’ change and then watched as The Chosen Two walked up to the register. Silently we formed a half circle around The Chosen Two. You could feel the anticipation hovering in the air.

“Hi sir what can I get for you?” said the register boy.

The first chosen one, “I’d like 100 junior bacon cheeseburgers.”

“Excuse me?”

The second chosen one, “Yeah, and put me down for another 103!!”

He slapped the money on the table change flying everywhere. We all started to chant, “Bacon!!! Bacon!!! Bacon!!!! Bacon!!! Bacon!!!”

Register boy yells over the chants of bacon, “Are you guys serious???!!”

The second chosen, “This is for real, I’m obese!!”

203 Junior-Bacon Cheeseburgers later we walked out stuffed, happy , and $216 poorer.

Men aren’t…emotional.

Men don’t show emotion. It’s not that we don’t know how it’s just that we can’t. It’s a matter of…principle. We don’t cry during chick flicks. We don’t swoon over love songs. We don’t scream when we see our best friend. We definitely don’t worry when we burn something in the oven, we just get take-out.

Exceptions to the Rule? None. Well, maybe....

“Wow…”---------“I think I’m going to cry.”---“Probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Who’s talking? Is it women at a ballet? Or maybe they’re watching a chick-flick? Or is it 3 men whose team just won an intense overtime match against their biggest rival?

“Ohhh myyyy gosh!” ---“I can’t believe this is happening!!!”---- “How is this possible??!!!!!!!” Who’s talking? Probably a few ladies watching their favorite reality show. Or maybe they’re watching So You Think You Can Dance. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a couple of guys eating steak.

Okay…so maybe we do show emotion. But at least it’s only because of sports and a good steak.

symptoms of one-upper + stuff

The tag-along- girls really don’t have the equivalent of a wingman, but they do have something..the tag-along. One girl initiates what's going to happen, the other tags-along. While the wingman is a system of support the tag-along is one of…well..no one knows. The tag-along occurs when girls go to parties, do their nails, talk to guys, and other assorted events. Don’t believe it do you…Have you ever seen a girl go to the bathroom by herself?

The tickler- tries to tickle to break the awkward physical barrier. Also may be used in the scarier movie scenario. Tries to tickle his way out of awkward moments. The tickler still thinks that poking on facebook is normal.

Symptoms of a one-upper: Every time you tell a story he tells a more outrageous one. Every thing you’ve done he’s done it better. Always has to get the last word. Always tells his stories a little louder than the last person. Always over the top. But honestly, how do you diagnose the famed one-upper syndrome? Make up a story about something that doesn’t exist..then watch them try to top it…...

the many faces of "wingman"

The smooth wingman: Always in the right place at the right time. He helps you get the lady, not just the one that you want, but the one that you need. Helps position you in the right place, will flirt with the girls enough to get them interested in doing something but not enough to get them interested in him. That's when he passes the baton. His job is to get the attention, your job is to keep it.

The awkward wingman: This wingman has float-and-driftitis. He just doesn’t know how to do it. Every time you are in a great conversation with the ladeis he just stands there and doesn’t say anything besides his name. Taking an awkward wingman is like taking the wounded to battle. They can’t do much to help and you always have to carry them out.

The anti-wingman: You bring him along for the assist and then he tries to go for the basket. He’s the type of guy that would try to hike himself the ball and then try to pass himself the game-winning pass. He’s the guy you bring that doesn’t just try to steal the girl but your girl. He thwarts or tries to thwart every solid attempt. They seem helpful till they step onto the playing field then it is their game and they are the player worth watching. Don’t be tricked into believing they really want to help because they’re nice before and after the game. That’s how you become one of their spectators. Don’t spend too much time with the anti-wingman because then you’ll become one.

Stay tuned next week for the leach, the tag-along, and the 50-yard fake-out.