The Roomofzen Archives Presents: Pt 1

Through the wonders of modern technology the Roomofzen has recently been able to unearth some of its earliest works. Much like the National Archives, the Roomofzen Archives contains substantial amounts of material: transcripts of conversations and speeches, voicemail recordings, letters, memoirs, and other various documents and media.

For the first time ever these Archives are being opened up and unleashed upon you, our loyal readers.

In our first installment of the Roomofzen Archives Presents, we take a trip back to the spring of 2005, a simpler happier time. A time when the words "financial crisis" meant that you had only $54 to your name, and you needed $2 more to buy that stale keg of PBR from your local proprietor of Beer, smut and plastic novelty items. (with $4 more you could get the keg and the "fake poo", but, I digress)

No matter where you found yourself at this period in time, chances are there was intramural softball in the air; its scent as sweet and pungent as the perfume of a promiscuous young woman wafting up from the basement stairs of a houseparty. These were the days my friends. The following is a transcript of a pregame speech given prior to a game featuring the now legendary Cleveland Steamers of Bowdoin College Intramural Softball fame. The tales of the Steamers' dominance have spanned the globe, proliferated by the men who took the field in her name, and by those who fell before her. The speech itself appears in its entirety exactly as it was written and delivered nearly 4 years ago... but the names have been changed to protect those involved.

Like the Free Masons, the Cleveland Steamers are a secretive group, meeting in obscure locations, sometimes wearing costumes to disguise themselves. Sometimes this costume is a Pirate, other times it is an overwieght guy who lives at home with his parents. This is the first time that any documentation of their existence has appeared in print so consider yourselves lucky. Consider yourselves steamed.

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Cleveland Steamers vs. France Sucks
Monday April 18, 2005 5:30 pm

*To be read with above average intensity:


My Fellow Steamers,

In the wake of our awesome victory this Thursday past, it is important to remember the words of the wise and benevolent prophet of Gunt, who upon his pilgrimage to the farthest shores of Choad, knelt before the Oracle of Plump Promiscuous Women and wept for those souls who found sinful satisfaction in their softball abilities and had become lackadaisical on the mound, in the field, at the plate, and more importantly, in their worship of the Gods of Softball.

From high up in the kingdom of Intramuralis the Gods took a break from riding sick motorcycles and fucking really hot chicks and drinking beer, and looked down upon these men with much scorn, and much rancor.

Have we forgotten the humiliation we felt walking off the field last year after tasting defeat at the hands of the inferior team that takes the field against us today? Look at Jones, really look at him good, and if Michaels is slinking around all fucking blazed take a look at him too. Smith is probably just as high and Peterman is quiet but beware, his demeanor is meant to lure you into a state of comfort allowing him to mock and defile each and every one of you.

Now take a look at Eisermann… tell me who Steams more Gunts than him? Take a look around at yourselves men, and ask yourself the same question. Who Steams more Gunts?

(Pause for effect)


We must take the field today, like an army of gerbils on mescaline. I don’t know what that means but our salvation and eternal softball glory lies within this quest. So the scripture has foretold, the Steamers shall rise again from the ashes and claim their rightful seat at the throne of A League softball. This quest continues today. I suggest we kick some ass and Steam the Gunt.

Steamers on 3, amen.