Word: foamed
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Along with his associates Paul A. Hersh ’04 and Darren S. Morris ’05, Corker threw last spring’s foam-filled Mather House dance, which earned a spot in Harvard lore when a few hundred uninvited guests caused it to go out with a bang...
Railfans have never been well understood. Rail employees call them trolley jollies, or foamers--for those who foam at the mouth at the sight of trains. Worst of all are FLMs: fans living with mothers. Almeida is aware of the snickering. But the history of the trains--not to mention the sheer thrill of a massive contraption hurtling down the tracks--is stronger than peer pressure. Earlier this spring, Almeida, 42, spent five hours in the cold, hoping to videotape the Ringling Bros. circus train, which never came. While waiting, he lovingly pointed out the faded markings of long-defunct...
...first foam party experience was at a skeevy club on the top floor of a concrete shopping mall in Oxford, England. I was 15. It was the first and only time I was carded the entire summer. Along with a group of ten teenage Americans, I was asked to show identification, amusingly enough because they thought I was over 18. Embarrassingly, it was a teen-only night. As I sashayed among the soapy suds to Brit-pop, I couldn’t help but enjoy the blend of childhood and adulthood...
...Foam parties are a delectable mix between the blissful naivete of a bubble bath and a scandalous romp in a red-light nightclub. Last weekend’s Mather Lather strived valiantly for this tenuous balance, but unfortunately, or, perhaps fortunately, its mix was light on suds and heavy on scantily clad. While it is refreshing, and, depending on your standards, stimulating, to see Harvard boys and girls strip off their inhibitions and get a little wild, the regimented environment and lack of foam depressed much of the crowd. In an effort to move beyond the stilted Harvard scene...
Hordes of shirtless boys and bikini clad girls grabbed at the foam attempting to cover themselves in its bliss before the red siren signaled their exit from the foam corral. Unlike my escapades getting freaky to BBMak, Mather Lather demanded its guests to seek out and fight for their suds. Instead of enjoying Britney among a sea of foam, I danced in a bubble barren corner with friends. As Polly R. Seplowitz ’05 aptly put it, “The only difference between the foam and non-foam part was that in the foam part your shoes...