June 7th 10:41am - The White Horse

My friends and I behaved ourselves throughout our college tenure like Pippie Longstocking throughout her childhood. As we played soccer for USF, we really couldn't go public with our shenanigans until the second semester of our senior year, when we no longer had any soccer team responsibilities and our coach, aka Hitler, couldn't enforce punishment collectively on the team. He was as inspiring as cauliflower and didn't start me during a senior year game because I almost consumed chocolate the night before.

One of the first operations we executed occurred during a USF v Saint Mary's College D-1 basketball game. SMC's mascot is a white horse. Or something. It's actually a gael. I don't know what a gael is. However, somehow a white horse associates with SMC. 
I recompensed home to my apartment one day after work to discover a white horse head on the kitchen table like a chocolate covered strawberry among anchovies. My roommates had plotted a plan. 
Two hours and exorbitant alcohol absorption later, we were in our locker room, conveniently located beneath the basketball court. We fashioned the horse's body from white sheets, the tail from a white rope mop end, and decorated the sheets/horse's sides with the phrase, "Straight from the horse's mouth: Overrated." 
My two friends enveloped themselves in the sheets, one bending over, her face in the other's ass, who was standing, comprising the front half of the horse. During the game's half-time we exited the locker room and paraded around the upper level of the basketball stadium, a profusion of us trailing behind the horse laughing like we were witnessing the movie The Hangover. At one point, the paper-mache horse's head injected itself into Saint Mary's fans as if they were a hay trough. The horse's nose invaded a male fan's fanny as another male fan's foot barraged the horse's butt, striking it with enough stimulus to propel my friend forward. We reconvened in the locker room for continued libation and re-emerged to view the game in average apparel. 
Result: one bruised ass and scads of high spirits. 

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