Move Over Ripley's Believe it or Not:: BYU Campus is a Freak Show

I love walking to class. I really, truly do. I like to put my headphones in and bounce along to whatever I'm listening to (my favorites? Travis, Vampire Weekend, The Shins and Elvis. All of them will put a little spring in your step, I swear) while I enjoy the scenery and a fair amount of people-watching (we won't mention that I'm only taking one class right now, or that it's completely dark outside by the time I get out of said class).

Now, I only live about a ten minute walk away from campus but I saw three amazingly unusual things on my way to class today. The first of which was a pair of shoes hanging over a power line. I took a picture of them on my nifty camera phone and sent it to Chris and mentioned to him that my next door neighbors are selling drugs. He gave them the benefit of the doubt and said that they could very possibly be selling sex. But I believe the tennis racket in the window is the preferred advertisement for purchasable pleasure around these parts. While I considered whether I would be more uncomfortable with my neighbors being pimps or dealers (pimps, for the record. I live far too close to the alleged brothel/drug den to be safe if their meth lab blows), I passed a giant sign advertising a "White Trash Bash".

What on earth is a White Trash Bash and why would someone want to participate in such an ignorant abomination? My brain cells are committing suicide just thinking about the atrocities to intelligence that would occur at a party so ill-conceived. And the longer I think about it, the stupider I get. See that? I just used the word stupider. Pretty soon I's gonna be talkin' real dum-like.

But I digress. And I saved the best curiosity for last. And sadly, I did not get a picture.

Remember in the third grade when you had to get a lift from your friend when only one of you had a bike? If memory serves correctly, I believe this was called "pumping" or something similar. You would sit on your friend's handlebars and try not to fall off or cut your feet off in the spokes of the tire. Well, I saw two grown man-boys engaging in that kind of riotous activity (I have a hard time calling males my age "men". It just feels weird. Not to mention, grown men don't usually give each other rides on their handlebars). AND the guy sitting on the handlebars was playing a guitar and singing. I have no idea what he was singing/playing because I was walking uphill and they were speeding wildly downhill.

I wonder if they ran the stop sign at the bottom of the hill, would the bicycle cops give both of them a ticket, or just the driver?