Week of Silence

In an attempt to humble ourselves and focus on the task at hand...WINNING that is!

I have stopped the arrogance and cockiness of Bloggin for the past week.

We wanted our actions to speak for our words.

But, Don't worry! After Chalkin the Walk yesterday, The BLACK TEAM is back to our ridiculous shenanigans. Just doing incredible alcoholic thangs with our lives. Keep an eye out for more to come...more soon friends.

BLACKOUT!

ROKKKKKKK STARS

Gettin' our rocks off

Black Team has just been killin' it for what seems like centuries now.

I have a super crazy busy Humpday. Can't wait to be at the STRETCH tonight. Probably going to miss the challenge tonight. It sucks I know. But I'll see y'all late night!

Blackout

A Black Magic Woman: Becky Brinkman

For everyone who thinks: "Oh Spons is just taking this way too far. He's making his team care way too much about a some stupid excuse to get drunk."

2 Things:
1) It's Mr. Spons to you.

2) Here is a little something from one of TEAM BLACKOUT'S finest, B.Brink:

As "Don't Stop Believin'" rolls on the jukebox... I just want to give a J. Wilson-esque roar out (more mighty than a shout out). I woke up today with a head heavy with snot, a nose and ears that were rapidly swelling shut, a voice coarse and about half an octave lower than usual, and a baby factory that was in... shall we say... fine monthly form. I dragged myself out of bed to go the health center to _get a shot_ (not the good kind) and trudge back home. Body successfully injected with tuberculosis, I took my first of 3 naps, _went to class_, came home and took my second and third naps. Yes, I could have waited for the pain to pass over me and called it a night around nap 2. But DO YOU SEE TIRE TRACKS ON MY FOREHEAD? NO. I HAVE NOT BEEN HIT BY A BUS. SO I 50 DAY-ON.
Now I'm just downing plain orange juice like a boss until I've racked up $5's worth and/or until Kyle buys me a shot (the good kind) of whiskey to put me out of my misery. I'm not brave enough to do it myself.
New song: "Arms Wide Open" with oppressively loud bass. *grimace* Black out or back out.


 Just brings a fucking tear to my eye. It's like watching your child take their first steps or having Momma put your report card up on the fridge... I'm just so goddam proud right now. 


Black Out, Bitches

A Birthday on the Rocks

Ya it is a little dark. Problem? Next Time You Should Be There!

Today was a historic day. On this sacred day the world was given a gift, the gift of life. The 18th of April marks the anniversary of Joanne The Brave. Now she'd kill me for saying it, but Thirty-One days ago today, our beloved leader was brought into this world. Ever since that special spring day, Joanne has brought love, friendship, and spirits into the lives of so many. So, on this day, the 18th day of the 4th month, we give thanks for our head-hancho. Happy Birthday Joanne.

So what do you think the Black team did to celebrate? Did they make a cute sign out of dead horses and sparkles?

 Fuck NO! We made our signs. That shit was day one. 30 days in...I think we can be more creative.

We took one of Ohio Wesleyan's most sacred traditions, a right of passage, shared by committed members who unify themselves for a cause. This creates a bond so strong that the only conceivable way to express the happiness is to PAIN IT for the world to see!

Tri-Gamma? lame. Alpha Phi Delta? no thanks. TEAM BLACKOUT? Yes please.

We went Picasso all up on OWU's FACE.

The proof is in the pudding. Eat it up, Bitches!

CAUTION WET PAINT

The Black Hole is spreading. Watch yo back!

BLACK OUT!

SUNDAY FUNDAY

Team BLACKOUT

Easy Like Sunday Morinin'.

What are you doing? Cuzzzz we're Just chillin at the Stretch, drinkin free beer, eatin an original Joanne recipe, takin my pants off in public....No big deal. Get on our LEVEL!

The sun is out, beer is cold, music is loud, and the blackies are holdin it down.

Blackout

The Black Hole

Check out our Slide Show Here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vee0GJdz4ZE

To all the nay sayers: "It's 5 days late." "The pictures are flipped the wrong way." "There isn't one for every hour." "You're nose is huge." "It's not even on your Blog."

Seriously? Give me a break. 

Computers are hard.

In the words of Arthur Herbert Fonzarelli: "SIT ON IT!"

Because that's exactly what we did. We took that booth and made it our own, we made it our HOLE. We sat the crap out of that booth. For three freaking days, monkeyflickers! And just wait, the hole is just getting deeper and darker!

So, Take some advice from The Fonz head on down to the Stretch check out THE BLACK HOLE and  and "SIT ON IT!"

Black, out.

Get it Poppin'

"Ay, yo, BLACKOUT"

Yeah, It's kind of like that. After we stomped the competition on Wednesday, TEAM BLACK OUT finds itself sitting atop the leader board with 295 POINTS, BITCHES!!!

Wednesday marked the halfway point of the 50 step program to greatness. While we sit on the comfy throne of first place today, we must keep up the dedication. As completely absentminded and boneheaded as the rednecks, purps, and gree-grees are, they'll learn from their mistake. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

I've been hearing that they got some tricks up their sleeves. Well TEAM BLACKOUT knows some fucking tricks too. What doesn't kill us only makes us DRUNKER! 

We're the Black Team. When that last Red Balloon popped under the righteous boot of Hannah Berger-Butler-Blacker,  as nearly all THE BLACK TEAM remained on the battlefield, balloons unscathed, we rejoiced! Since no one could burst our balloons, we did it ourselves. Up and down, we jumped. POP POP POP POPOPOPOPOPO BOOOOOOM! The sounds rang out for all to hear on the warm Ohio evening. You could feel the momentum swing toward the Black Team. Delaware shook. The Earth trembled. I'm worried we might of caused some sort of seismic disturbance or a tidal wave in Australia (shout out to my 2 aussie readers! Whoever you are).

The Black Hole is only the beginning. With this victory, the Hole is just getting bigger. Watch your step, Ya might fall in.

BLACK OUT

HumpDay

Sorry for the radio silence, bitches. SO much to do, so little time. But, the Blog shouldn't suffer because of it. That's my bad. Here's a little something until I get more than 15 minutes to myself.

In case this Blog is your only source of News, since the last time we talked

-We F-ing did it! Black Team completed the BLACK HOLE and that booth will be ours FOREVER....Or til next year when someone does it longer....

-Wrote a 20 page paper on for my Seminar in Native American Women's Literature and completed my second portfolio

-bought a bottle of chocolate wine

-drank all the captain morgan at The Stretch and the best beer EVER!

All work is original designs of Joanne copyright The Stretch.

It's HumpDay so, we got a challenge tonight. Probably just throw down Black Team style. See ya in first place. Stay Sober.....for now!

Black, Out!

-

DUI

Not a laughing matter guys. Last night, I was intoxicated---legally I would like to add. During my inebriated state, I unfortunately did something very terrible, something I am disgusted by. It will be with me for as long as I live, on my record. Last night, presumably between the hours of 11:30 and 2:00, I had my first DUI of the semester: Dining Under the Influence.

Due to the $1.75 Captain and Cokes yours truly was drinking during the entirety of Happy Hour, I was inappropriately drunk by 7:00. I did some things that I'm not proud of. But worst of all is the DUI. When I woke up this morning I saw it. Crumpled amongst my dirty clothes and loose papers sat the remains of a drive-thru McDonald's bag. YUCK!

For those of you who don't know, I hate fast food. I rarely eat sweets, cookies, or ice cream. I'm embarrassed by this. Sometimes, I'll even lie and tell people I have an allergy. I'm not a "health freak". I just feel like shit after eating those kinds of things. I know it's going to taste great and the 11 seconds it will spend in my mouth are going to be awesome, but after that it's PTSD: Post-Traumatic Stomach Disorder.

I'd like to take the time now to apologize to some people. To my fellow Black Teammates, I have let you down, I'm sorry I cannot hold myself to a higher standard, I have failed you as a role model. To whoever drove me to McDonald's, I'm sorry I don't remember. To Ronald McDonald, go fuck yourself you piece of shit clown. To my parents, stop calling me all the time, I'm fine. To LeBron James, go fuck yourself you piece of shit clown. . . . These aren't really apologies anymore. But, It's 9:42 A.M. on a Saturday and I'm at the bar literally by myself so deal with it.


Black Out

BLACK HOLE

Day 2. If you don't know. There's a reason! BLACK OUT!

From The Desk Of A Legend

Obviously, I tried to get in touch with J.Wilson (Read all about it HERE). Unfortunately, he was being harassed endlessly by Dos Equis to be the new "Most Interesting Man in the World". But, the light-weights iand their Mexican Beers couldn't hold a candle to to TEAM BLACK OUT. So, J. shotgunned a beer in the CEO's face and promptly responded to my E-mail. OMG! OMG! OMG! Check it out Blackies!

Chris,

I'd like to commend you and Team Black Out on your valiant effort. I've been called a lot of things, but never a "true inspiration" or "fucking champion," and I thank you for the additions to my resume. Let me take a moment to wish the drinkingest best to your brothers in tankards. As am I, you are in the midst of a marathon, not a hundred yard dash. Pace yourselves, put in the work and do not allow another team to usurp your glory. You deserve it, you are the Black, and I've got your back. You signed up for this simple challenge; this oath may as well have been written in blood. Let no small task, obligation, or excuse stand in your way. This cup of victory belongs to each of you. Do not let your team down. There will be no greater disgrace as long as you live. After your victory dance, with goblets aloft, consider your future. Make it the best you can for your family and your country. Live a life of good works, balanced and noble. Take quality over quantity at every turn, whether spouse or beer. Live well, you beer-soaked brothers of mine, you fucking champions!

Peace and Pints!

J.

God Amongst Men?

Is this the face of hope? Is this the inspiration we need? Role model may not be enough to express my respect for J. Wilson.

As I find myself and my teammates in the midst of our own 50 journey, our quest. I am emboldened by the actions of others. While we pledge our stomaches to the liquor and beer, we find solace in one man who shares our passion. That man is J. Wilson.

For 46 days, J. WIlson will consume only beer and water. "An ideal condition of harmony, beer and joy." Much like the Bvarian monks of yesteryear, Wilson has been pounding beer every single day during Lent. 


Dude isn't eating any food. This fucking champion has alcohol flowing through his veins!


The hunger stopped during the first week, Wilson said, and he has no designs to break his fast.


Not only does this dude chug brews like THE BLACK TEAM, he has the heart of a Blackie! "No question, I'd have to get hit by a bus to stop." From here on out J. Wilson said it would be, "just an exercise in discipline."


You hear that? HIT BY A BUS!  For all the people: 'waaaaah I have an exam, I can't go to the stretch' 'boooohoooo my tummy hurts from all the jager bombs' Ask yourselves: WWJWD What Would J. Wilson Do? And the answer is, inevitably, DRINK BEER!


 Discipline. Honor. Beer. Does it sound like the 50 Day Club? Yeah, I think so.


Check out J.Wilson's Blog. Might be the only dude on the internet cooler than me....or as cool at least:
http://brewvana.wordpress.com/

The Black Hole

Operation Black Hole is underway. Hide your kids.

Pre-Game

Just dropped by the registrar, added my 6th class. It's a second module only one. It meets 6 days a week at The Stretch. So, I've just been doing my homework. So, what if I haven't slept in 3 days? Who needs sleep when you've learned how to skillfully launch your shoes onto a table from 9 feet away?

Gotta get ready for tonight's exam! BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT!

Day 13-ish: Woah.

Blog is having a hard time keeping up with the Black Team. We are going hard guys. But this picture says 1000 words I cannot describe, yet I feel. Enjoy the day off. Back to work on Monday!

Day 10: Dream On

Last night was tough. The Black Team lost. Period. We didn't win. We're not perfect. So what?

Last night put some things in perspective for me. Winning is great. It's awesome. We are the Black Team. We are inherently winners. But, the 50 DAY CLUB is more than about winning it's about family. It's about DREAMS.

LET US NOT WALLOW IN THE VALLEY OF DESPAIR, I SAY TO YOU TODAY, MY FRIENDS!

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day THE BLACK TEAM will rise up and live out the true meaning of our creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all teams are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the Jay-Walk, the sons of PURPS, GREEGREES, and REDNECKS will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood and DRINK, DRINK TOGETHER MY FRIENDS.

I have a DREAM today!

I have a dream that one day every BAR shall be exalted, and every SHOT OF WHISKEY shall be free, the WARM BEER will be made COLD, and the JUKEBOX will be a NICKEL; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together." 

I have a dream that my four little children.......I mean.....My 14 TEAMMATES will one day live in a nation where they will not be served beer by the color of their T-shirt but by the content of their character. 

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, one day right there in Alabama.....Did I say Alabama? I mean DELAWILD!.....One day in Delawild little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little RED boys and PURPLE girls as sisters and brothers.

50 DAY FAMILY! YA DIG!?!?!?

But there is something that I must say to my people, THE BLACKS who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: THE BACKSTRETCH. In the process of gaining our TEAM POINTS, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. We will fight. We must not give up.

Let us seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of PBR and BLACK SWEDISH VIRGINS. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. The high stairs to THE CLUBHOUSE. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with alcohol and cheer. We will drink. We will drink together. 

We cannot walk alone. (especially after last call. it's just not safe.)

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

Let the beers flow!

And when this happens, when we allow the beer to flow, when we let it flow from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, BLACK TEAM and REDNECKS, Jews and GREEGREES, PURPS and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old BLACK TEAM spiritual:

                 

                Free at last! Free at last!

                Thank God Almighty, the beer's free at last!

Day 9: Shi(r)t Show

"Awwwwwwwwww Shit son! You see that new Tee on dem Black Boyz?!?!?! That shits fresher den bananas in the produce section, ya herrrrrrrrrd me?"

          -Barack O'Bama when asked about The Black Team's new shirts

Shirts are done. Done done done. The paint is dry; the cotton is soft. (Yeah, I just used a semicolon in my blog. Got a problem? Suck my Dic....tionary) Let the good times roll! Can't wait to see me and the blackies reppin' our new logo! 

While I'm flying high about the shirts, I have terrible terrible news.

I can't be at tomorrow night's challenge. I figured it out on Sunday. My dance class (laugh it up) has a field trip to see some show at the Wexner Center in Columbus Wednesday at 8. I know, I know. SKIP IT! I would, but I told them I was a van driver so I'd be making a ton of people miss too. 

That's why I've worked so hard on the shirts, I was just really upset about letting all my illegitimate African-American teammates down. There is no excuse for a Captain to abandon his team in their hour of need. Vince Lombardi never ditched the Packers, Winston Churchill stuck next to the crooked-toothed English, even Big Bird always has Oscars back.  The black team doesn't back down. We sack up and black out. 

I'm sorry. I have a paper to write. I have more to say. But, for now, sorry is all I got. 

Day 8: Wardrobe Malfunction

Dudes,

T-shirtin' ain't easy. Those stencils I made of our favorite bartenders just didn't come out right on the 100% cotton Hanes no scratchy tag shirts. Life threw us some lemons. So we don't have shirts.

Did I say we don't have shirts? Because What I meant to say was, like an Andy Warhol-possessed-pirate-painter, I took lemons and made some Mike's Hard Lemonade. Mix in 7 hours of work, a splash of Mevans, a lot of Jimi Hendrix and a Becky Brinkman cherry on top and we got ourselves some goddam UNIFORMS!

I didn't do the backs yet. But it's smooth sailing from here on out. My face is fucking floating from huffing fumes all day. But, I love love love what we have. I let my team down when I said I would get Big Buck and Joanne on our shirts. For that, I am sorry. But, I'm proud of what has been created instead.

50 Day Family.

On a side note, still only bought alcoholic beverages from the Stretch.

JOANNE! MAKE IT A DOUBLE! 50 days long, 50 days strong. Black Team, over and out.

Day 6: New Jersey

It's almost 5 in the morning. My face is melting. My eyesballs have been microwaved. I've been playing Arts and Crafts for 4 hours. Probably looked something like this, to the untrained eye.

I'm not blogging for pity. I just want to explain why El Capitan was a no-show at the bar tonight. Greater Good, folks. I made two stencils for our shirts. I'm finally satisfied with the product. Haven't even figured out the alphabet yet. But, after rummaging through the Thomson Dumpster....what else can I do? Can't wait to make this shit legit tomorrow. Fashion designers like Gucci, Prada, and Marsha the Shift Manager at The Gap are already sending me e-mails wondering when I'll get around to doing a line exclusively for them.

I just told em: "These beers aren't gonna drink themselves. Call me in 44 days."

BLACKOUT

DAY 5: Family Meeting

"It's a little strong. That alright?"
FUCK YEAH! FIll 'em up. It's 11:45. Goddamn it's almost noon. Do I get points for getting my card signed in before noon??? It was quarter till noon and I'm already starting. Happy Friday, Black Team Style.

And who doesn't pregame a meeting? Watch MadMen? That was all the goddam rage in the forties. If the leader isn't drinking, how could he expect his team too?

Anyways, what a bunch of all-star, kick-ass, ninja, vatican assassin WINNERS we have on team BLACKOUT. We had a problem: Uhhh how we gonna make awesome t-shirts by Wednesday? And we crushed that shit, like a couple natty ice cans, we chugged the problem and smashed 'em on a Frat Forehead. T-shirts? In the bag.

CAn't wait to get everyone's sizes and make this shit is gonna be hotter than Lady gaga wearing a Kanye Jesus Chain inside an Egg, boiling in a volcano next to a shirtless Ryan Reynolds eating a banana....wait what?

Got my drinks in. But I'll see y''all Blackies late night at the spot,  The STRETCH that is.

 Over and Out.

Day 4: This Is Your Captain Speaking

One of the greatest honors a human can receive was bestowed upon me last night. In the holiest of locations amongst the prophets, diplomats, and leaders of our generation, I was chosen. I was named Captain of The Black Team.

While I accept the responsibilities, the duties, of Team Captain, the prestige, the fame, will be shared by us all. No one person can win the 50 Day Club. It's a club for a reason. It exist because of the community, the family, of drunken heroes who commit themselves to this sacred caused.

Oh and did I mention WE FUCKING ROCKED SHIT LAST NIGHT! Like a tiger-blooded, samurai, torpedo, we whooped ass in last night's challenge. While the puprs, rednekks, and greegrees, were stuck in the kiddie pool. The Momma Flippin Black Team was doing Cannonballs off the high dive. Drinking beers and hittin' on the Lifeguard. We dove to the bottom of the deep end and came up with a treasure chest of WINNING!

So what if we're a point back? We got the momentum. We got the trophy this week. For the next 50 days it's Black History Month! Ya Dig!?!?!??!

See y'all at the bar. Captain's Orders.

Day 3: For the Fallen

I wish I could have started sooner. But better late than later, ya know?

50 day club at The BackStrech. For the next 50 days it is officially The BLACKStretch, ya dig!?!?

I heard we lost 6 people the first day. The Rednecks, Purps, and Gree-Grees we're talking a big game. Saying their teams are stacked. Saying we don't have a chance. "We only lost one" "Nobody left are team". 

To losing 6 people here's what I say: It's sad: We'll weep for them. We'll remember them. We'll drink in their name. To The Fallen. Here, Here!

But, this is a battle, folks. The Black Team is here to blaze trails, to fight, to reinvent the wheel, to drink beer. Not to get scared, run from our problems. The 16 who remain are survivors. The 16 who remain fight. The 16 who remain believe. 

We lost six, but the strong live on. To the Strong! Here, Here!

Ooh Black Team

Here! Here!

Ooh Black Team 

Let's Get A Beer!

Ooh Black Team

Our Drinking Crew

Ooh Black Team

We Are OWU

Seeya at the CHALLENGE!