Oh, dear God. Where do I even begin.

Oh, wait, I know. Wiffleball.

So, we Collegianites are already pretty competitive. Nevermind that we have people from the rivaling cities of Pittsburgh and Philly cohabitating in a small basement, we'll lay the smack down at the sight of a dangling participle. Then we had to go and bring athletics into it.

We went to an end-of-the-semester picnic and ended up in a game of wiffleball with three adolescent brothers, who, pound for pound, have more competitive edge than we college kids did combined. Can you say bad idea? Oh, I think you can!

Bats were thrown in unfortunate places, charging the mound was an appropriate response to most pitches thrown and just like middle school, the girls were picked last for the teams. Lame.

No one could pitch the ball covered in electric tape, so one of the little boys took the mound. This put him at the center of the game, and he had a lot to say. He liked to tell our arts editor that..."You can't catch cuz you're stupid!" and that he was going to beat up his brothers for sucking. He also liked to ask me if I knew that I was, indeed, a girl, and if I knew that the plastic thing I was guarding was called second base. Precious...

But wait, it gets better. On a slide into third, one of the munckins said he was safe, when we said he was out. He held onto the base for dear life as our arts editor, perhaps getting a little payback from the "stupid" commets, picked him up, base and all and started yelling - "Oh no! He's stealing third! Oh nooo! Stop him!" He put him down eventually, but only to be tackled by his brothers for one hell of a pile up.

And P.S., my team - The Collegianiates - rallied a victory in the final inning with a 13-12 win over The Dinosaurs. Take that extinct over-sized reptiles.

Later that night, The Collegian held - "The Summer Semi-Formal of Amazingness" and we had a damn good time. Most wore their finest apparel. Some, and when I say some, I mean one person, and when I say one person I mean...TOOOOM BROLLEY... wore plaid shorts and a T-shirt. But damn it if he doesn't wear plaid well.

All sorts of things happened: A five hour game of pool, me dancing in a corner by myself, whiskey being mistaken for rum, an interpretative dance about page design, chain smoking. You know, the usual.

And on the eighth day - God created rock.

We got the bright idea to do it all again the next night, but instead we took turns playing Guitar Hero on co-op and duel. I was purely a spectator, but it was fanastic. Then I fell asleep (surprise). Supposedly after that, everyone watched Lady and the Tramp and made spaghetti and it went over so well that they're now considering a Disney power hour. Oh the humanity.

It was an excellent last weekend of the semester. True summer bliss all in one neat package. Here's to you summertime: Thanks for being you.

See, I told you there was enough summer nightlife to keep you busy. Just ask Megan Fox. ZING!

- Erin