I am getting old, so before I pass... that is, before I pass away I thought I'd go up to the attic and reminisce by digging through some old trunks up there. You know, the usual morbid ritual.

To my surprise I found a long lost photo folded into my letter sweater from the days of my youth.  Back then, we used to go crashing parties just for the hell of it. Sometimes we would show up in classes we weren't even assigned to. 

At the beginning of the semester one year at Portland University, we passed the hat (several times) and enrolled an anonymous character in a freshman English class, giving him a social security number and a Willamette Avenue address we made up out of the blue.  Picking up the course syllabus, we divided up test taking responsibilities and paid a street drunk to go to class and just sit there stinking every day.  We were just thrilled when they posted our little drunk's grade at the end of the semester. He made an "A."  So we enrolled him the next semester in Biology 101. How about that bullshit?

Anyway, we'd crash cross-town fraternity parties; we'd crash cross-town sorority parties; we'd crash cross-town faculty parties.  One day we all got together and crashed a funeral:

 Ain't that some bullshit?