THE KING OF KOLLEGE KAMPUSES

I'm getting tired of my weekends being interupted by this ugly, ugly day.

Sooooo ... Friday night, my buddy Edweird and I cruised up to a university on the western side of this state where I was scheduled to throw down the mutha of all college parties.

I was told it'd take three hours to get there.

But it was my buddy who's closing in on 60 who told me this.

Apparently, he's already driving like a little old man, hunched over the steering wheel and putt-putting along at 40 mph wherever he goes.

Because we made it in two hours.

Which means ... (for those of you who picked their nose and ate it in math class rather than paying attention) we got to the university with two hours to kill rather than one.

No problem.

I would treat Edweird to a nice dinner that included either the words "steak" or "big assed pizza" in it.

So we drive around this college town looking for the nearest pizza or steak place.

That took all of three minutes because ... this is the one college town on earth that had NEITHER.

There was a Walmart (naturally).

A Hardees (for those of you on the West coast ... a Carl's).

And a Sonic Drive-In (for those of you on the West coast ... a shitty hole-in-the-wall that charges you triple the amount of a McDonald's hamburger for a McDonald's hamburger).

I left it up to Edweird to choose and he politely went with Hardee's.

Where we ordered burgers and fries and ate them as slowly as possible.

Still, you can only eat SO SLOWLY until you realize that you now have an hour and 45 minutes to kill before the party starts.

So we drove to the Student Union building where the party was being held.

Here's something for those of you who are looking into DJ'ing parties at college campuses (anyone? Bueller??).

If the party you're going to DJ is a fraternity or sorority party ... it's going to be a great time.

If it's a school-sponsored event ... not so much.

Reason???

There's alcohol at fraternity and sorority parties.

'Nuff said.

I get to the student union building and call my contact guy for the party.

"Where should I set up?" I asked. "Right out here on the balcony of the place??"

"Oh noooo," he says. "We've got you downstairs in the club ... Club Blooey!"

Club Blooey?!?

CLUB BLOOEY?!?

Do you mean to tell me that this school is so cool that it has an honest-to-Buddha CLUB downstairs in its Student Union Center?!?

I was mucho impressed.

Edweird and I scurry around the building like excited freshmen on the first Friday night of the school year, trying to find this amazing club that we'd just been told about.

We found Club Blooey.

Uhhhhhhhhh ....

Ummmmmmmmm ....

We took our time setting up the sound system as the bugs in attendance watched with feigned amusement.

Yeah.

That's what we thought too.

To give you the full impact of Club Blooey, here's a view from behind the table.

Uh-huh.

Welcome to Club Blooey, folks.

Home of ... hmmmmm.

Home of stacked-up exercise mats in the corner.

What it boiled down to is ... Club Blooey is a partitioned-off section of the exercise room in the basement of the student union center.

After Edweird was done snickering about my predicament, we mingled with the kids outside of Club Blooey.

Make no mistake ... these kids weren't standing in a long line behind a velvet rope waiting to impress a bouncer and get into the club to dance their ecstasy-soaked asses off.

These kids were playing ping-pong.

We made small talk with a few freshmen girls, starting off with "Boy, you guys don't have many restaurants to choose from in this town, huh?"

(I've found that for a self-confessed fat guy, talking about restaurants in a new town has always served as an excellent ice-breaker)

"What do you mean?" one of the girls said. "We've got Hardees and Sonic and the snack bar at Walmart!"

Uhhhhh ... yeah.

THAT'S what I mean.

I guess if you've lived in a dank cellar all your life, that's fucking New York City to you.

We could feel our brain cells being sucked dry talking to these girls, so Edweird and I went outside.

Where they were having a bonfire.

So THAT'S where all the students were!

Gathered 'round the bonfire!!

Well hot dog!! After the bonfire's over, all the kids will come scurrying into Club Blooey where they will drop acid and drink free Pepsis and dance until they puke and I will look like the rock and roll DJ God that I've always thought I was!!!

YEAH!!

...Except ... well ... there's a stage in the foreground of that bonfire photo.

A stage where a rock and roll band is going to be performing.

Soooo ... standing between Club Blooey and the bonfire is a stage where hip young kids with long hair and studded pants are going to be playing rock and roll.

Gosh ... if I were a college kid, would I want rock and roll by a hip young band ... or dance music from a guy older than my father??

OR

Tough decision ... huh??

Fortunately, we had a few students accidentally stumble into Club Blooey and they immediately began gyrating their hips because Uncle Bob had some brand new slams like "Soul Survivor" and the worst song ever recorded ... "Laffy Taffy".

"Laffy Taffy" is to normal people like Celine Dion is to punk rockers.

It's like the anti-everything.

But these kids loved 'em some Laffy Taffy.

After the fourth time I played it in the first hour, that fact dawned on me.

We had a decent crowd ... decent equaling about 50 people ... for about two hours.

The best part??

We had a bigger crowd in Club Blooey than the band had outside.

Edweird would give me periodic updates as he went back and forth from the band to the Club.

And while 50 people doesn't sound like a lot for a college party ... remember ... this was a SCHOOL-SPONSORED EVENT.

No alcohol.

So the cool kids were at other parties.

I had 50 nerds in my midst.

Which might explain why they were diggin' on the Laffy Taffy.

I dunno.

I don't even pretend to understand college kids anymore.