Farrar is a county of crazy in the Corban nation. Some of the strangest and most outrageous men on campus live in this infamous building, and as such, some of the strangest and most outrageous things happen within these ancient walls. Antics from converting the bathroom into a giant sauna to blanket forts in the lobby happen almost on a daily basis. Some people may be intimidated by such high levels of brotherhood and testosterone, but in Farrar, we have more fun than we have people – and we have a lot of both (okay, fine, we are the smallest dorm, but I digress).
Being the smallest dorm, both in population and floor space, all the residents have close bonds. These close relationships allow us to be our crazy selves without fear of judgment. I mean, we have the Pumpkin Smash every year. For those of you who don’t know, the Smash happens every fall. The entirety of Farrar gathers around a small tarp that is covered in pumpkin guts and soap. Then we jump in, wrestle, and bond. The last man standing wins the prestigious honor of being Smash King. Any event with that amount of contact – both physical and emotional – is bound to create and strengthen friendships. I know what you’re thinking, “How on earth is the Pumpkin Smash an emotional event?” Well, as a highly emotional member of Farrar, I have firsthand experience with the amount of brotherly love and rivalry that is the Pumpkin Smash. The phrase “I freaking love you guys!” is said approximately three times every 13 seconds, along with “How are you holding up?” and “Team up on the freshmen!” Of course, the audience often misses these affectionately screamed words due to the ruckus they themselves are making. The Pumpkin Smash is one event that never fails to bring tears to my eyes, as well as bring everyone so much closer – literally.
Occasionally (and conveniently), all the RA’s will be gone on a given weekend, thus beginning the most revered few days of the year – the days of “NO RULES!” Being a Christian university and brotherhood, we have our limits. But these evenings have always been the highlights of the year, most often resulting in weekend-long blanket forts in the lobby while marathonning every 1990’s cartoon known to man. Nudity at this time is more common than any other times, as well as shower pranks like dumping ice on those showering, and “soapy monster” attacks – a lathered-up man runs out of the shower and tackles the nearest dry person – usually running around for a while trying to find their desired target. Other results of “no rules” weekends are Lord of the Rings marathons and “ice kabibbles” (a game similar to shuffleboard, but played with a frozen water balloon and both players sitting on either end of a long hallway. The goal is to slide the balloon into the opposing player’s… unmentionables… actually not much like shuffleboard). There are attempts to carpet-skate down the stairs, form human targets for use with Nerf bazookas, and a host of other shenanigans. If you’re planning to sleep at all that weekend, good luck.
Other perks to living in Ye Olde Brick include being around other hungry men, redneck hot tubs, and saunas. Need food? Don’t have a car? Ask literally anyone and they will be willing to go get food with you, since they’re probably starving too. Redneck hot tubs are a sacred Farrar tradition. We fill a truck bed (usually belonging to former student Marshall Arndt, bless his heart) with hot water – very hot, since its either that or ice cold – and see how many people we can fit in the bed. Farrar actually holds the official world record for amount of people fit in the back of a “redneck hot tub” – and we have the certificate to prove it. Last but not strangest, the classic bathroom sauna. This is achieved by closing the bathroom window, turning all four showers as hot as they possibly can get, and waiting. Soon the entire bathroom is full of steam. It’s a glorious time of relaxing and sweating with your bros.
The F-Bomb (as some still affectionately call it) is a place of brothers. We don’t just throw around the term “bro”; we use it because we genuinely care about each other as brothers in Christ. Farrar is a haven for those who are blessed enough to call it home. And yes, it is weird. It is gloriously weird. It is awkwardly weird. It is a weird place full of weird people, and it is home.