Calhoun

The Mother 'Houn in second place? Unbe"@#%-ing"lievable, un"@#$%ing"-precedented, and in"@#$%ing"conceivable. The sheer mechanics of it are mind boggling! And make no mistake about it, Say "what" say "bitch," we're on you like the unbearable stench of limburger cheese on a hot car engine is on the port-o-potties between the soccer and football fields. The same fields, by the way, that our amazing Captains Caleb Turn-"up the volume on Alien Ant Farm"-er '03 and Mack "Don't confuse me with a" Blu-"footed booby"-mer '03 put everyone to shame on. Across the way, Alex "I'm gonna bury you, dig you up, and then piss on your dead car-" Kass '03 and Amanda "Hugankiss me I'm 21" Jenks '03 led soccer and volleyball to the forefront of the IM universe.

Need we even mention the success of our cross-country machine Adam Br-"eak yo self"-enner '05 and Nick Ro-"who cares if I just ran a marathon and feel a little"-sic '04? But we're not done—no, not by any stretch of the imagination. Along with the wrath of the New Haven wind, snow, 20-below temperatures, and the return of MJ, the winter will bring the fury of the 'Houn's best of the best. All the bowling, balling, and brawling (read: Choops) will leave this college right where it belongs: on top. And now for our haiku, courtesy of the Hotlantan drunken squatter '01:

Like the ancient Greeks

Beat Persia at Marathon,

So. What's up now, bitch?

In the end, there's not much left to say... except that at least our fan"@#$%"tastic tennis team can tell time.

(Compiled by a renegade P.R. with a Napolean complex and a fabulous poet.)

Back to Intramurals...