Word: vag
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Punch before lunch before lunch, thought Vag, how delightful. Luncheon, luncheon, puncheon before-I'll go, he decided. It wouldn't be right to cut his own roommate, even though that nutmeg floating...I can't, Vag said suddenly aloud, I can't drink that awful, awful awful any more. He braced himself for the shower, braced two or three times experimentally, then slumped into the chair and on with the radio. "And now our Morning Pops program, brought to you by Almeda Fiddle, presents Arthur Fiedler and the Bawwstun Pawwps in De Riccerio's "Dance of the..." Bang went...
Please don't let it be like the other weeks. It had almost been a prayer how funny, thought Vag. I'm going to be indifferent. Indifferent is as handsome does and good lord at least the band is better, isn't it George! He wished he hadn't said that again and again. Maybe the band wasn't really so good and it sounded like the Ivy League Album all the time anyway. Indifferent or not-that is the question. Whether tis nobler with subsidize or lily-white Bingham. God I feel awful, what's the matter with...
...these drinks and still the same only worse, not even happy. Another, dear! George-a fine party, George, am I glad we left that madhouse and came over here-how about two more with soda, George! Keep'em strong, strong, strong, and strong. Vag, Vag, come off it, boy it was only a game, wasn't it? Why let that rain the weekend, the Big Weekend, thought Vag. And then rush rush rush everyone out to dinner...
...Bick for breakfast, Vag noticed some students in red coats and ties hustling towards Soldiers Field. Well, he would hear the band on the radio, he muttered to himself. Through the Bick's windows Vag watched couple after couple parade by, some with bright banners and pins, most with pockets bulging form refreshment supplies. Let's look at this thing realistically, he said to himself, and a little later Vag was hurrying over the bridge with a strictly intellectual acquaintance from the other side of the Common. What can you expect at the last minute, he philosophized...
Have a hunch there may yet be material for my weekly toast, commenting to himself, when the young lady wondered if Harvard had ever won the pennant. Vag, you talk yourself into the damnedest things, he said, almost aloud, and then, most audibly, he was singing "with Crimson in triumph flashing" and feeling quite at home...