This weekend my family hosted one last graduation party for all those people who love and adore me back home. It was a great time. Great food (Shiner-soaked brisket and BBQ chicken plus a dozen other delights), great drinks and about 60 family and friends gathered to wish me luck/share their sadness for my current unemployment. Alas, such is the curse of being a graduate in 2010, as a Jehovah’s Witness made painfully clear to me this morning.
But one thing sticks out from all the good timey-ness: We got Iced.
How I (and my collegiate roommate John) managed to get through four years at UT without running into this hilarious and completely Bro-ish practice, I’ll never know. Don’t feel bad if you have no idea what I’m talking about. I’ll spread the gospel of Ice after the jump.