A caustic yet humorous, sarcastic yet awesome, satirical yet special look into the mind of Tucker

A caustic yet humorous, sarcastic yet awesome, satirical yet ... special look into the mind of Tucker

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Mormon Mocha

The last few days have been quite crazy. It seems every day I have another assignment that MUST be completed by the next day.

The crazy part is I always remember between 10-1130 pm the day before it's due.

This results in Tucker staying up very late to finish his mother-lovin' projects. Mission prep kept me up on Monday night, Chemistry on Tuesday, and tonight it was Econ. Curse you Kearl. Curse you and your 18 page homework assignments......... So as you may know if you know me personally, I need my sleep. I like to sleep. I get loopy when I'm tired and start laughing at things that aren't funny and don't make sense. This is bad for my H.Q. (Humor quotient) and as such, I cannot function without a little... boost.

You people are probably thinking about coffee, well, I don't drink coffee. Members of my church do not drink coffee, and I never have never will; however, I must not fall asleep in chemistry again! How do I stay awake? I tried pinching myself (I'm reluctant to pinch myself, and as such, fell asleep anyway) sitting in the front row (which can get you called out by the professor, because it doesn't actually help you stay awake) and I thought I was running out of options.

Then a small candle came on in my brain. (light bulbs are too newfangled for a poor college student to afford) I could just have something to munch on! But I couldn't bring carrots or celery... that wouldn't keep me awake! Obviously I needed something more........ potent.

*cue evil smile*

I walk into my classroom confident and secure in my 3 hours of sleep, and I sat down in my usual spot, plopped out my notebook onto the rickety fold-out desk and readied my pen.

I immediately started getting drowsy.

I reached my hand into the crinkly confines of the smallest pocket of my backpack and withdrew my hand concealing a magic solution to all drowsiness...

A flash of brown wrapper is revealed in between my scrunched fingers.

I shove a snall pellet into my mouth.

The caramelly goodness assaults my tongue with a subtle nutty flavor. A beautiful chocolate blend surrounds it all. That's right. Snickers. Snickers is going to solve all my sleep problems.

I sit all the way through chemistry without falling asleep at all.

Chewing. Chewing.

I take a peek into the special candy pocket of my backpack, and realize I've cruised my way through 82.4% of the bag of fun size Snickers.

A couple hours later I walk into my apartment and deposit the empty Snickers bag into the overflowing garbage can, and reach into my closet for a bag of Milky Ways to keep me going through history.

This is the best idea I ever had. Besides flying backpacks. That one is freakin sweet.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Cheek Chastity

It's Valentine's Day.

We're sitting in the kitchen.

I suddenly hear Jaws music playing. (If the Jaws thing makes no sense, read this post and you'll quickly understand)

Something's up.

There's a knock at the door...

Justin goes to answer it. We hear the doorknob creak, and the next thing we know the door is yanked right off its hinges and Justin is being accosted by lipstick-sportin' females.  Four of them pounce and pucker until he retaliates... but.... the retaliation doesn't come.... he is enjoying this. ........ He comes back in the kitchen after we hear the door closes.

Seriously, the only difference is the lei.

They ran away screaming Happy Valentine's Day and ventured onto the other floors of Maeser hall to find other hapless victims.

No one was quite sure how to react to this except Justin, but he's just kinda a ditz and you never know quite what he's thinking.

Ok some of you are saying, "Tucker, what is the big DEAL? A couple girls were trying to be funny. Humor them." To you I say, Have you HEARD of CTD's??? (Cheekually Transmitted Diseases)

Anyway so we go back on our merry way, but ten minutes later I start hearing the music again. The knock comes again.

This time we prepare ourselves. We tie Justin to a pole and stuff beeswax in our ears.

Ben goes for the door.

I don't know if the beeswax we put in his ears wasn't working, or what, but he responded to the siren's haunting call. He opened the door (which magically reappeared on its hinges) and as soon as an inch-thick sliver of light shone through, blood-red fingernails gripped the door frame and wrenched the only barrier between us and a violation of cheek chastity out of his grasp. Then the temptresses start coming onto him, but in the moment of temptation, Ben is strong. He throws his hands up in the air (sometimes) and tries to spurn their advances. The problem is that their advances aren't all that spurnable. So I step in to rescue my roommate with much gallantry. After much combat (verbal and physical) I realize that by some magical enchantment, they can't set foot in our dorm. In order to capitalize on this knowledge, we retreat beyond the safety of the doorway and start arguing about cheek promiscuity and its moral implications. I bravely defend Ben's choice to abstain and clarified that -- in the same predicament -- I would've made the very same decision.

Except I might've punched someone.

Ben's just nicer than me.

They retreated as soon as they realized their battle was lost. They had taken one soul from us, but they would not take another. No.

Not another of us.

We would be strong.


The Chaste of Cheek.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Coke Adventures

At the Bookstore we have a dock downstairs. This is the place where are the big burly people do all the heavy lifting that big burly people specialize in. There are all kinds of shelves, freezers, piles and pallets all over down there.

In particular, I experience one particular part of the dock. Where all the food is, like for instance, 6 foot high stacks of pop on a pallet. Apparently this doesn't merit an electric pallet jack, so Tucker gets to yank his right shoulder half out of his body to pull the 37840 ton pile of drinks.

As you can imagine, lugging 37840 tons of drinks is a less-than-ideal job, but I suffer through, and truly it's not that bad because my muscle size is in the 97th percentile.

So I'm almost to where I need to be when I start wishing I was in the 96th percentile, because I yanked the handle a titch too hard, and what should happen but a cascade of caffeine-free Coke careens down and as cans crash I nearly scream like a girl, but I know that it will echo throughout the whole dock, so I refrain.

As Caffeine-free Coke spreads across the floor I quickly walk towards the janitorial office. Why? Because I ain't cleaning this up... But alas!!! No janitors to be found..... It's probably because I used the offensive term "janitor" instead of the pc "custodian." Either way you clean up poop in the bathroom and Coke on the dock, I don't know what the big issue is...

So no janitors are available to assist me in my plight (aka take care of my mess) so I'm stuck with cleaning up 7 gallons of caffeine-free coke spilled all freakin' over.

For those of you wondering "Why caffeine-free Tucker? In all your infinite wisdom, teach us!" I say some Mormons believe it is sin to drink caffeine. Some don't. It's not officially doctrine that drinking caffeine is a sin, but at BYU it's practically as bad as swearing to be seen drinking caffeine. As such, it is pretty difficult to find caffeine on campus.

So Coke's on the floor. (that's like the 7th time I've said that same thing) and I start wiping it up. I get it all wiped then take the box of coke to the kitchen to see how many of them actually exploded and how many we can salvage.

I get to the kitchen and --  since everything is so sticky -- I stick the cans in hot water to rinse.

If chemistry taught me anything, I forgot it now.

The first can exploded in the water, spewing small amounts of coke outside of the sink, but it was mostly contained. I realized my mistake and started to take the cans out of the hot water and move them to a sink filling with cold water.

As I began to transport the cans one by one, the second can exploded in my hand.

Caffeine-free sugar saturated fizzy Coke exploded ALL upon me. Like all upon me, all upon the sink, all upon the microwave, all upon the wall, the floor, my face, my clothes, and some even got into my left eye. (Which is ok, because i'm practically blind in that eye anyway.)

Cleaning that up was not really fun, and it was super sticky all over.

THIS is why I'm a Pepsi person.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Date Dash

Erik and I were in the kitchen. Minding our own businesses. Making some sort of science joke like "I can feel the Joules being sucked out of me," when a mysterious knock came at the door.

We immediately froze (because Erik has premonitions and knows what will happen. I have a soundtrack for my life, and when the Jaws theme starts playing, I know something's wrong)

Anyways, we're frozen. 

Ben comes meandering out of the bathroom and answers the door. (Ben has no supernatural premonitions or background music) And standing there at our door are 5 girls. 

All I hear are the words "Date Dash," and "I'll consult my roommates."

Ben comes meandering back into the hallway where the three of us talk over this whole shebang. 

The low down on a Date Dash is women come to your dorm, find 5 random guys and pay for their ice cream.  

Riley popped his head right out of his room when he heard the word "women" and I agreed when I heard "free ice cream."

We opened the door again and informed the girls that Riley and I were definitely in for free ice cream. 

I mean Date Dash.

Well... they regretted to inform us that while we were discussing the pros and cons of the Date Dash, they capitalized on the fact that there were three other dudes in the lobby and swooped down upon them with vigor and vim, seizing them in their vulturic claws. 

As my free ice cream flew away into the desert sand, a small part of me  "let it go," but the 97% left of me screams, "DON'T LET FREE ICE CREAM GET AWAY FROM YOU."

So, we go back into the dorm because the only things I can do to retrieve my free ice cream involve violence and/or flamethrowers. My better judgement wins out and nothing burns down besides Riley's confidence as we slowly trudge back into our dorm with our heads hung low.

We go back in the kitchen and relay the story to the "Homework-laden" Ben and Erik, but halfway through the story, we can hear the girls talking. We overhear that the other dudes turned them down for some reason, and they still need more guys. We lunge to the door with bated breath and cups against the synthetic wood. 



Riley immediately lunges for the door when he hears "Maybe we should knock on their door again."

I had to physically restrain him.

"Fool!" I whispered with measured intensity, "Have you ever heard of 'hard to get???'"

I continued to restrain him until they came knocking again. 

I made a scene about being second choice (because I ain't nobody's second choice) but we eventually (about 15 seconds later) conceded to go on a Date Dash.

We walked out the door with three other guys from our building and five girls we had never ever seen before without any knowledge of what was going to happen other than the magical words "Free ice cream."

We separated into two cars, and as we drove away I started having some doubts.

It's 4 degrees outside! Why the devil do I want ice cream? Because it's free DUH! Doubt number one resolved...

Doubt number 2 surfaces. 

We were headed straight towards Las Vegas, and I began questioning their motives.

I know freshman girls can become desperate, but this was a new low... Kidnapping five lonely guys to force into loving matrimony is not my idea of a good Thursday night.

Turns out they weren't headed towards Vegas. At least for now...

We turned into the BYU Creamery parking lot, and parked after like, 9 tries. As we walked in, we purchased a bunch of ice cream and some trash bags. 

Turns out that our assignment (should we choose to accept it) (PSYCH! We didn't have a choice.) was to shove ice cream in each other's faces while blindfolded. All this clad in super sexy trash bags. 

It was a truly special experience.

The first couple went and it was fairly calm, but as it continued on towards the end, the couples got more and more.... aggressive........ with their ice cream feeding.

I'm not gonna mention any names, but there was whipped cream in faces, there was ice cream asphyxiation, there was even Strawberry and Spittle Sherbet. 

Way to impress the ladies dude....

Needless to say, there was a spectacular mess at the picnic tables. We went inside to the bathrooms and rent our super sexy clothes (garbage bags) in the comfort and warmth of the handicapper bathroom. 

As we drove away one of the guys mentioned the fact that there was still ice cream all over the table we left behind.

One of the girls responded with a shrug. "Job security."

Monday, February 7, 2011

Issues I Have

As my roommates engaged in mortal kombat against a poor defenseless punching bag at 2 am last night, I thought of things that really annoy me. Like uproarious blood lusts cleaving the night with their raucous screaming.

BUTT that's not all.

I have a biting complaint about BYU to share.

It's called couples.

I have nothing against couples sitting down or driving, if the woman's pregnant, I've got nothing against her (mostly because pregnant people are so awesome) but GOSH DANG IT.

(Pause for breath)

When you hold hands and stretch your arms across the entire hallway and walk slower than is legal under the age of 65, you are begging me to red rover you like you've never been red rovered before.

Now that I'm on the subject, couples at BYU bug me in another way.

Other than The Red Rover of course.

The Less-than-prudent-smooch.

I know this ^ is what you're thinking it looks like, but to me, it looks more like this.

Except less appetizing.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


As I have previously stated, I work at the BYU Bookstore, and we periodically receive memorandums from administration complaining about some issue or lauding Jimmers praises and claiming he will be in the bookstore with ESPN filming "A Day in the Life of a BYU Basketball Player" (fail. epic fail. he never came, and we were all excited...)

So today we received another memorandum entitled, "There is a Problem"

This makes me think that perhaps there is a problem.

So I begin reading. It is from some head janitor of some sort (I'm sorry. Custodian. Because apparently the word janitor is nearly as offensive as any other racial slur.)

He laments the woes of his sad life as a janitor and how the toilets smell bad when they are blocked up and stuff. So he continues on and says that apparently they have found some ... foreign objects in the pipes.

These foreign objects include hair nets, feminine products, and a hat.

A hat?

Yes a hat.

My question is who the devil put a hat in the toilet and HOW the devil did they shove it down the drain without getting fecal matter all upon themselves?

My question that follows that question is what ELSE can you shove down a toilet?