Have you ever been lost in the middle of rural Louisiana and been led over a hill/levee by an iphone map? That’s what happened to every single car that went to Merritt’s family farm this weekend for the pre post-banquet party in Moreauville. You know you’re out in the sticks when every village ends in -ville, we even saw a place called Scotlandville. After getting lost, pulling back onto the main road and realising that by sheer luck we were driving behind Cody (cue girly screams of happiness) we pulled off to help Rachel and Danielle who had broken down because obviously we can’t have a rowing trip anywhere without a break down.
Fuck yeah. It was the perfect party spot because we were so far from civilisation that people physically couldn’t leave and if any of the novices got roofied there were plenty of beds.
Gangnam style happened:
Everyone found out how big this novice’s penis is, I’d like to say that I didn’t ask directly but that would be a lie. There were a lot of whisperings and I decided we might as well clear things up definitively.
And we are apparently now the LSU rowing/cigar club.
In the morning we did what rowers do well and got up stupidly early to get back to Baton Rouge for the game against Ole Miss which is where my camera took its last photo before committing suicide by getting caught on Dejean’s little finger as it got passed to me and flying down about five rows of seats. It went out with style having just taken a photo of some random underwear that was in the stadium.
Tonight we have real banquet. I love events where rowers dress up smart because you get to play “Who is unrecognisable in something other than spandex?” and see lots of already tall girls wearing heels.