It lives: Son of the worst DM care package of all time

    At this point, I've come to terms with the fact that my friends and I are sort of assholes. Last year, we assembled the worst DM care package ever and gave it to our fraternity brothers. It was what many might call a "dick move," but we turned it around at the end and supplemented our cruelty with pizza, Gatorade and cinnamon rolls.

    This year was a little different. We set out to top everything we did last year. Make it bigger, make it badder and make it a hell of a lot worse for our friends in the tent who were dancing their butts off to help children. We aspired to include items such as "a loaf of bread where every slice has been individually burnt" and "Oreos that we licked all the cream off beforehand." We even thought to take a pineapple, hollow it out, put a Smirnoff Ice inside, seal it back together and pull off the greatest alcohol smuggling job in the history of kid-philanthopies. Alas, it didn't work out that way. It never does.

    Our plans never came together, and our vision fell apart, but we persisted. We still found some pretty horrible things to bring to our friends. Therefore, what we ended up with for DM 2015 was not only the sequel to the worse DM care package ever, but the laziest care package ever sent to DM. We sucked at being assholes, but don't worry, because we still managed to be huge assholes.

    Son of the Worst DM Care Package of All Time

    • 1 whole, uncut pineapple (truly, a classic)
    • 1 18-inch chocolate bunny
    • 1 canned ham
    • 1/2 bottle of crystalized honey that was sitting in our pantry for 8 years, probably
    • 4 chipotle vegan sausages (we tore off the vegan label – surprise!)
    • 1 can of tuna fish
    • 1 can of cat food
    • 1 bottle of clam juice
    • 1 cucumber
    • 2 bouillon cubes
    • 1 spicy hot pickle, in brine
    • 3 crayons (?)
    • 32 pantiliners (I don't think the guys who bought this know what these are)
    • 1 Trojan Magnum condom

    That's not even a little fun. That just sucks. Things we didn't include: a can opener, napkins, silverware, water or any other sort of hydration aid (Does clam juice help? Nope). This was a bunch of salt and sugar and inaccessible goods. The only thing that kept our dancing friends from mobbing us was probably their own state of delirium and subconsciousness. People in a proper state of mind would hate us. I hate us.

    Of course, we did ease the pain a little bit. We brought a huge package of clementines and dozens upon dozens of homemade cookies (yeah, homemade, not bad for some fraternity bros, amiright?). I'm fairly certain someone was supposed to bring Gatorade, but that never happened, so we'll probably drink it tonight while we think about the immense amount of suffering they're going through.

    Truly, the weekend of DM brings all of Northwestern together, and the Worst Care Package of All Time is perhaps more emblematic of that than anything. We just wanted to tell our friends that we support them and do it in the worst way possible. That's what these 30 hours are all about, right? Last year, we said that this was all one big act of love, and this year, it was the laziest act of love I've probably ever seen, but love it was.

    And hey, I think we'd all agree that the tent hadn't met its quota of unnecessary pineapples.


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