The Liver Crizzle:
Gentlemen, Scholars, Alcoholics.
What good is traveling without people to get loaded
with? It's no good at all. Because of this, I felt like I
needed to honor the crew with an article. It will also
serve as a useful reference to anyone reading future
articles who doesn't know who the hell I'm talking about.
Though honestly, this article is probably not for you. It's
a borderline masturbatory tribute to the team, and I
couldn't live with myself if I didn't show the proper
respect and reverance.
It's very difficult to describe The Crew. No one can
remember why it formed, seemingly spontaneously, halfway
through the semester. No one can figure out how an angry
midwesterner, a waspy texan, a catholic schoolgirl, and
someone who was clearly from LA could come together and
form a team better than the power rangers and the
planeteers combined.
Because the crew was founded at least partially (alright,
mostly) founded on a group love of alcohol, it was
initially given the name "Liver Crisis", because in french,
amusingly enough, cirrosis of the liver is called "Crise de
Fois", which translates to liver crisis. The name
eventually evolved to become Liver Crizzle, because we are
all so very street, yo.
Liver Crizzle Founding
Members
Hometown: Minneapolis
Codename: Surprisingly, none.
Distinguising Features: Constant smoking, peer-pressuring, terrible hair
Major Accomlishments: Beating Lindsey in a footrace, worst go-karter, best smoker, falling down, not killing anyone out of extreme rage, drinking for 26 days straight with only a one day break
Amusing Anecdote: Mere hours after declaring that at some point I would drunkenly slip on the ice covering the roads in front of a car and be run down like a dog, I slipped on the ice and was nearly run down like a dog. Apparently I held my arms out as if to stop the car and made an amusing noise, but I wouldn't know, because I was to busy pondering the fact that I nearly predicted my own death.
Hometown: Los Angeles
Codename: Vash, Vashit, Tomahawk Chop
Distinguishing Features: Narcissism, hippie hair, old cigarette burn scars
Major Accomlishments: Shitting and vomiting simultaneously, nearly dying after trampolining, best go-karter, making out with every female crew member, pissing self, creator and master of the Tomahawk Chop
Amusing Anecdote: One day, Stephen found a chunk of wood molding in the hallway. He named it the Tomahawk Chop, and would come home drunk and beat my roommate with it. Then he started sleeping with a transylvanian dagger to fend off the chop, and it happened no more.
Hometown: Sacremento
Codename: Spittoon, Receptacle
Distinguishing Features: Gimungous head, motherly instincts, new cigarette burn scabs
Major Accomplishments: Making out with a married man with children, starting smoking, earning title of team mom, self-mutilation champ
Amusing Anecdote: Stephen has a hometown crew called "venom", denoted by two cigarette burns in a snakebite pattern on the forearm. One extremely drunken night Elise and Stephen were at the neighborhood bar-casino where alcoholic Czechs go to die, and lo and behold, the next day we saw her with two fresh and oozing burn wounds on her arm. Congratulations, Elise.
Hometown: Dallas
Codename: Booger, Free Pussy, Beast
Distinguishing Features: Exreme waspiness, lack of self esteem, country accent, infected nose piercing
Major Accomplishments: Resuming smoking, losing to me in a footrace, earning the most offensive nickname, making out with the biggest douchebag ever, having a vagina for an ex-boyfriend
Amusing Anecdote: In the course of drinking one evening, Lindsey ended up going home with one of the guys on our program (though she still contends that "nothing happened"). However, in the morning, to add extra shame to her walk of shame, she needed to ask directions home.
There is honestly very little I can say about the Liver Crizzle, and this article exists more as a tribute than anything else. To understand the LC, you had to be of the LC. In fact, I'm pretty sure all of the other people on the program though we were having some kind of creepy four-way. With that, I leave you a few other crew pictures.
Here you see the crew posing with the aforementioned Tomahawk Chop, scepter of glory, and smiter of all things unholy including:
My roommate, and, apparently, my ass.
In this picture, two important aspects of the Liver Crizzle are highlighted. First is the hand sign which involves making an LC with your fingers and crossing your arms for extra extremeness, and second is the team uniform, consisting of a black shirt and jeans, with nothing else being considered acceptable.
It seems inappropriate to display the crew without drinks in hand. It'd be like painting a picture of the crucifixion with jesus wearing a party hat. Inappropriate, and probably blasphemous.
The Team, The Crew, the Liver Crizzle, whatever name you prefer, there was a camraderie that will never be broken, not by diseased burnholes, not by the herp, and certainly not by distance. Lindsey, Stephen, and Elise, I salute you.