The FUW House on College




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I of course have several memories of that house as it was my existince for 11 months of my life. It seems like years but truely was only 11 months. Although we only had a handful of shows during that time that house became most FUW members first inroduction to FUW. It was truly the last meeting place where all of FUW would be at. I know later we had the warehouse's but not everyone took advantage of the warehouse, where as if you ask Jacquie or Carlson they will tell you we had fifty people a night occupy the house.

I know there were lots of drugs and alcohol that saturated the house on any given night but  we always tried to open the doors to everyone. I often wondered what occupations our visitors would find in life many of them experiencing their first corruption of some sort of another in that house.

A few short memories:

Some how there were always 15 and 16 year old girls to clean our kitchen. I never asked questions but beside stolen cigarettes that might be the only thing Brett contributed to the house.

Brett's snoring and Carlson's 8 daily alarm.

Dre's amazement that I would wake up everyday and put a steak on the grill for breakfast.

Kyle paying us to throw underage parties in our basement. (like we were of age)

moving out and driving off as fast as we could without the cigarette machine.

Some creepy guy with a cane hitting on girls.

A story that describes the essence of that house.
Waking up early on a Saturday morning after partying till dawn to drive to Chicago with Jacquie, Dre, Skitzo and Carlson to meet Mick Foley. After a long cold disappointing wait (and seeing Hardcore Badass Jr) we go and eat a three pound burger. After this experience we drive home only to meet up with a good 10-12 people at the college ave house for one more Saturday night of kids being kids. The night turned into a sing a long led by Honky Tonk, Skitzo and Creation #4. About 1:00 AM we head to some party with Skitzo where I eventually get sick and have to have Jacquie pick me up at 4:00 AM which is when she tells me our dyed green bong water (which I believe was for St Patrick's day) had spilled and stained the carpet. It was a long day but a day I still have not forgot which is how most days in that house went.

I have several individual memories of that house but I prefer to share those with those individuals. It was the type of house everyone should have college memories of. I'm just lucky cause I got to experience it 7 days a week. I don't go a day without thinking of that house in some way and if you have a memory in that house good or bad involving me and you think I may have forgotten, I haven't and I probably think about it often.

Now the five years after that you are on your own cause I don't remember shit.

-Disco Stu


I remember a house party that was thrown there.  I am not for sure if it was thrown after a show or just because, but I remember I couldn't get there until later because I was working that night.  I got there, I had really just started with the group and didn't really know anyone very well.  I walked into the house, and could NOT BELIEVE the amount of people in that tiny house.  It was so full that you could barely move.  I had not been there for more than 20 minutes, and I overheard someone say, "Hey, lets get the mats out and throw each other around in the backyard!".  IT WAS 1 AM!!  I thought to myself, "Oh GOD, what have I gotten myself into!!"  But the party was a blast, and I never once regretted getting involved with FUW!

-Triple X


One time I was over there watching Raw and Stu, Clepto, and a couple others who I can't remember at this time wanted to fire up a bong.  Stu knew I didn't do that and without me having to ask he put a fan next to me and gave me this look as if to say "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.  I want you to feel welcome here." 

Another story in case I did use that one during my interview:

The last time I remember seeing Big Daddy mark out during a wrestling match happened at the FU-house.  It was No Way Out 2000 during the Foley/HHH Hell in a Cell.  Foley took the back body drop through the top of the cage and Graning let out a big "WHOA!" and everyone looked at him.  Since then I don't think anything's really impressed him. 

The FU-house was also the first house I saw where the decor consisted of Simpsons and wrestling figures and life-size movie character cut-outs.

There was also an after party (Keepin' It Real probably) where Ashley came over with a couple friends she went to the show with, one of them being Vandana, who a lot of the guys thought was pretty hot.  I'll admit she had some nice cans but she was so unbearably annoying that I had written her off as unattractive.  A few guys, Triple-X being the one I specifically remember, came to me asking her name and I replied with "Her name's Vandana, but trust me, she sucks."

-Hardcore Badass


I remember practicing on mats behind the house and trying to explain to Black Cat and Mad Dog how to work a small package reversal for our three way dance.  I also remember the living room being a pay-per-view palace with multiple tvs and sound louder than hell.  I remember watching my first ECW PPV there and being blown away.  

-The Convict


I can remember times building and repairing the ring. I can remember times loading up the truck for a show. I can remember hearing Carlson's 18 alarm clocks going off at the same time. But my favorite memory was the time I got dropped off after a happy hour at Alexanders Steak house. Alexanders offered $5.00 monster rum drinks that I liked to call "Swashbucklers" because the drink had a cherry on a toothpick shaped like a pirate sword. After drinking about 2 liters of Swashbucklers, I came into the college house as a raving lunatic. I started talking shit about everything any anything. I was falling over my words and my own feet. At one point I was told I accidentally grabbed Jackie's boob. (Sorry Jackie).



I was hanging out over there once with Brett and there wasn't any toilet paper in the bathroom.  I told Brett, and he grabbed some coffee filters from the kitchen for me to use.  I later found out from Glen and Carlson that they hid the toilet paper from Brett because he was behind on buying the groceries.  When I went over there anytime after that, I asked Glen or Carlson if I needed anything.

That house was also where we shot the end of the Squared Circle Incident.  We had to stop filming anytime there were any loud noises, as the scene was supposed to be in the woods.

Yeah, and in case you didn't know- coffee filters make a pretty awful substitute for toilet paper.  :)



Oh dear, that house.  My possession of the brick from that house's
foundation that went on to appear as the Ironman Brick is a pretty
great memory of sorts, but it has nothing to do with actually being

One of my favorite memories from there, against all odds, was a very
brief conversation with Honky Tonk Rob.  The subject of binge drinking
came up (as it likely often did in that house), and I said "you don't
have to drink to have a good time."  Honky Tonk Rob helpfully
countered "Yes, you do."



The only story I can think of is when I showed up for a show and couldn't understand why everyone was just sitting around.  Then I finally asked someone and they told me that the show was the following week.

-DJ Luke Warm


i remember glen and a friend of his staging a mock scuffle after a pay
per view where glen really clocked the guy good and dre and some
others had to drag him out... couple minutes later glen came back
cracking up

i saw the PPV at the house with the edge/christian v. hardy boyz TLC
match that was insane... best non ECW match i ever seen on live TV.

dre told me and bond what a dirty sanchez is at that house.... good times.

-Thee Anjel


My memories are blurry. They are not in chronological order. Sometimes there is no date attached. They are as jumbled as the collection of music posters, cardboard cutouts, tapestries, and the giant Uma likeness that filled the rooms of the house on college avenue. My memories are snippets of Christmas-eve Jerry Springer episodes, pumpkin carving, HHH weddings, and summer evenings in the back yard.  

Though it’s not what immediately comes to mind when thinking about the house on college, my first memory of being there was the summer of 1999. I don’t know why or how the night ended up the way it did, but I will speculate that it began at Denny’s. At some point it was decided that a dance party should follow and off to the house on college we went. With some Save Ferris, and Ben Folds Five we danced the night away. Later that summer, we listened to Hide Your Love Away, always twice in a row, as Glen mourned an impending loss.  

And while there are certain songs that I associate with the house on college, most of my memories are not so innocent. Years before a former roommate and I established Naked Drunken Thursdays, I remember the roommates talking about naked hour. I never knew whether it was a joke or not, but in retrospect, I wonder if it was the first seed in my head of what eventually became NDT.  

Strangely, I don’t remember any underage drinking (though that’s probably merely the result of faulty recollection), but illicit substances of other kinds do speckle my memories of the house on college. I remember being home for spring break, and sitting on the floor of that living room. A small crowd had formed and we watched Glen’s new Yellow Submarine dvd. A certain close friend of mine sat on the floor in front of me, and like many others was doing whippits that night. For each person, the dvd would be set to a particularly “trippy” sequence, and after his experience, my friend had an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Still, when I hear him cackle that way, I’m reminded of that night.  

I, perhaps despite appearances, was not quite an innocent bystander. I was no stranger to pot smoking, but it never really seemed to affect me. Maybe I didn’t smoke enough. Maybe I didn’t really know how to inhale. But one fall night I took my first hit of a bong in the house on college. I was instructed by a number of people on proper form, and after much choking cleared the chamber. I walked away feeling victorious. A short while later I was standing on the back steps of the house, leaning against the wobbly railing, and realized I had absolutely no balance. Once that awareness was reached, suddenly everything spun into a fog. But I was surrounded by comforting people in a familiar place and it felt as if nothing could go wrong. 

And it was that sort of comforting feeling that always emanated from the house on college for me. Maybe the most important memories are the times that made me feel like I was a part of something. I remember the secret toilet paper stash when certain roommates wouldn’t chip in, and I remember a long conversation in the kitchen one afternoon, that put everything into perspective. I knew I didn’t ever want to be the best thing that happened to someone. 

Something still feels wrong when I drive past the apartment complex that replaced the house. Maybe it’s just that its time was over. And maybe its better that I’m able to remember things the way I want to without the imposition of reality settling in. I wouldn’t want to see the next generation of early 20-somethings that took over the house. I wouldn’t want to know that some other group of people is having dance parties, playing video games, and having what turn out to be life-altering conversations in there.  

A friend of mine wrote many years ago, “You always imagine that the significant moments in your life you can play back like a video…but instead we remember the significant the same way we recall the useless—through fragmented images, half-developed snapshots.” But I think this begs the question, what is significant? If I can recall so well how I felt about the world on a random winter night watching Noggin and eating a La Bamba burrito as well as those more “pivotal” moments in my life, who is to say its useless. We are merely accumulations of our experiences and memories. We are who we are because of what we’ve done and where we’ve been. And the house on college, decades after its demolition, will continue to be a part of who we are.

-Nell, the FUW Superfan


FUW Wrestling Est. 1998

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