1. Find a job
2. Buy Dark Knight on DVD
3. Rob a bank so I have money for 2009
4. Figure out a way to prolong college
5. Become famous
6. Wake up once a week before noon
7. Work out more than Larkin (this implies roughly once a year)
8. Stop smoking sober cigarettes before 2 pm...(gotta start somewhere)
9. Seal the deal with 3 out of 4 dream girls that I have been working since Freshman year
10. Find a date to Kappa formal
Monday, December 8, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Barack to the Future or Citizen McCain
Usually I find double titles incredibly cowardly. So it was no surprise that I was incredibly disappointed with the name of Coldplay's latest effort. It is lame enough to title your album after the most prominent single, but to have the audacity to name the album after the first and second single, well that was an atrocity that was simply unforgivable. Now that's not to say that I didn't go out and spend $18 on the album the day it came out...I just wanted Mr. Chris Martin to know that I think he could take some advice from Panic at the Disco! because maybe their music sucks, but those song and album titles are just so damn enticing.
Now at this point my hypocrisy probably has your mind spinning. Why did he just terrorize the frail brits for their unwillingness to make a stand if he won't do it himself? Is it because he wanted to show his rapist wit in the fact that he could make the two candidates names into classic movie references...Maybe. But upon closer inspection the similarities are a bit more intense.
Barack Obama, black democrat, poised to become president of the United States...unheard of even ten years ago. So this means either A.) The time traveling Delorean isn't that much a stretch of the imagination and we will be zipping through time warps in a few years. B.)In the unreleased fourth installment of Back to the Future Marty McFly travels into the future to comat racism, only to be turned into a mild mannered black man by Biff who has somehow developed wizard-esque powers. or C.) We as a people decided to make some Changes, thanks to a desperate plea from the late 2pac Shakur in his 96 hit "Changes."
Is Barack Obama Marty McFly? No. Obama is too smooth around the edges and seems to always have a plan. Marty was always running around frantically only to be saved by Dr. Emmett Brown. Obama is the Doc. He believes in change, and has radical ideas of doing so. Until recently, nobody took him seriously and as a politician has had limited success (only one term as a U.S. senator) similar to how the doc had very few successful inventions. But if the plot plays out right for the Doc O, then he will win the election tomorrow, and then save the world...that is unless he runs into a version of his future self which realizes a time paradox and causes the armageddon.
Then we have McCain, citizen McCain. The similarity here is, old guy with an important story that most people do not care about. Citizen Kane is considered, by many, to be the best film of all time. But then again, not many people would know this because, it is old, boring, and confusing...just like John McCain. People are so ready to discount this man, who is perhaps the most qualified man in twenty years, because he isn't entertaining. On camera he literally looks fake, like his campaign team had to cake on enough make-up just to convince you that he was in fact still alive. No one seems to care that he has been on capitol hill oh...forever, or that his war record is longer than an uncoiled small intestine. Nope because he isn't as flashy and trendy as Obama, people have completely counted him out.
But wait, the plot thickens. Both movies would go on to win one academy award. Back to the future best special effects...citizen kane, best original screenplay.
So Barack Obama makes us go "Wow"
But John McCain has the best story.
Back to the Future was the more profitable of the two movies, and prompted two sequels that were equally high budget and equally sexy.
Citizen Kane was released in a time where movies weren't judged on commercial success, but by the artistic vision of the director. Citizen Kane remains in the top 30 of the IMDB top 250.
Both films had young directors, and were both embarking upon the beginning of prosporous careers. Both directors were nominated for best direction in each film but bost lost.
Orson Welles, director of Citizen Kane, went on to have a very affluent career in acting, producing, directing, and writing, but never won another oscar after that of the screenplay for Citizen Kane.
Robert Zemeckis balanced commercial and critical success over the next two decades and finally won his first oscar for best director in his mid 40's for Forest Gump, a movie about a slightly retarted man who changes the course of American history (on paper an impossible recipe for success.)
So like Welles, McCain had a strong, if not underrated political career but never got the big reward before his death.
And like Zemeckis, Obama rose to fame early, and cashed in on his great success in his mid 40's...on the campaign slogan of "change" (on paper an impossible recipe for success)
The movies don't lie, Obama wins the general election tomorrow. You heard it here first.
Now at this point my hypocrisy probably has your mind spinning. Why did he just terrorize the frail brits for their unwillingness to make a stand if he won't do it himself? Is it because he wanted to show his rapist wit in the fact that he could make the two candidates names into classic movie references...Maybe. But upon closer inspection the similarities are a bit more intense.
Barack Obama, black democrat, poised to become president of the United States...unheard of even ten years ago. So this means either A.) The time traveling Delorean isn't that much a stretch of the imagination and we will be zipping through time warps in a few years. B.)In the unreleased fourth installment of Back to the Future Marty McFly travels into the future to comat racism, only to be turned into a mild mannered black man by Biff who has somehow developed wizard-esque powers. or C.) We as a people decided to make some Changes, thanks to a desperate plea from the late 2pac Shakur in his 96 hit "Changes."
Is Barack Obama Marty McFly? No. Obama is too smooth around the edges and seems to always have a plan. Marty was always running around frantically only to be saved by Dr. Emmett Brown. Obama is the Doc. He believes in change, and has radical ideas of doing so. Until recently, nobody took him seriously and as a politician has had limited success (only one term as a U.S. senator) similar to how the doc had very few successful inventions. But if the plot plays out right for the Doc O, then he will win the election tomorrow, and then save the world...that is unless he runs into a version of his future self which realizes a time paradox and causes the armageddon.
Then we have McCain, citizen McCain. The similarity here is, old guy with an important story that most people do not care about. Citizen Kane is considered, by many, to be the best film of all time. But then again, not many people would know this because, it is old, boring, and confusing...just like John McCain. People are so ready to discount this man, who is perhaps the most qualified man in twenty years, because he isn't entertaining. On camera he literally looks fake, like his campaign team had to cake on enough make-up just to convince you that he was in fact still alive. No one seems to care that he has been on capitol hill oh...forever, or that his war record is longer than an uncoiled small intestine. Nope because he isn't as flashy and trendy as Obama, people have completely counted him out.
But wait, the plot thickens. Both movies would go on to win one academy award. Back to the future best special effects...citizen kane, best original screenplay.
So Barack Obama makes us go "Wow"
But John McCain has the best story.
Back to the Future was the more profitable of the two movies, and prompted two sequels that were equally high budget and equally sexy.
Citizen Kane was released in a time where movies weren't judged on commercial success, but by the artistic vision of the director. Citizen Kane remains in the top 30 of the IMDB top 250.
Both films had young directors, and were both embarking upon the beginning of prosporous careers. Both directors were nominated for best direction in each film but bost lost.
Orson Welles, director of Citizen Kane, went on to have a very affluent career in acting, producing, directing, and writing, but never won another oscar after that of the screenplay for Citizen Kane.
Robert Zemeckis balanced commercial and critical success over the next two decades and finally won his first oscar for best director in his mid 40's for Forest Gump, a movie about a slightly retarted man who changes the course of American history (on paper an impossible recipe for success.)
So like Welles, McCain had a strong, if not underrated political career but never got the big reward before his death.
And like Zemeckis, Obama rose to fame early, and cashed in on his great success in his mid 40's...on the campaign slogan of "change" (on paper an impossible recipe for success)
The movies don't lie, Obama wins the general election tomorrow. You heard it here first.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
And...Here...We..Go
I think the biggest headlines of this past weekend, without the possible exception of hsm3 opening to 40 mil, has to be how hard shingles raged. Ok done pumping my tires, but it had to be said on here. Because not nearly is said about us on posh. I get it that its a smallwood thing, like I'm not complaining....but 20% of my crew is in fact Jewish, and I think that 20% has probably known 30% of Smallwood in Biblical terms. Now I'm no math genius but doesn't that add up to about 50% so one in every two posts should directly involve me? Just kidding, but what I'm not kidding about is the lameness of the content on there...I mean really? Spotted: Two Kappa sophomores smiling for the camera. Thats not juice, thats just a cute facebook pic. GG would be fucking ashamed. Where is the pics of the blacked out dudes with serious girlfriends grinding with chubby underagers. THAT is where the juice is. Def not SPOTTED dumb idiot nobody named Goldsteinowictz drunk in his Smallwood apartment. Hm. End rant.
So this week sucks. Homecoming was tausome, like the best ever. And speaking of things that are really really cool, Fried Fridays are nothing short of a miracle. But now that we all have 4 tests and 9 interviews this week, life just doesn't seem to be, i dunno, fun? Everyone of my interviews is the same and they all start the exact way...
So, Tell me a little bit about yourself...
"Well, since you asked. I go out every night of the week. My current drinking streak is at +36, and I have managed to black out about 40% of the time (if you are a baseball fan, that would mean I have a pretty good slugging %) I believe in nothing but material things and status. I wear trendy clothes to fit in, I spend a lot of money at bars to impress people. I am constantly scheming on everyone, even my friends, who I only surround myself with because I think that it will be advantageous for me to do so. I don't like to work hard at all, I bullshitted my way through B school, which, let's be honest, wasn't that hard. I smoke cigarettes, and occasionally on Sundays I get a little high. My number one pastime is talking shit about people behind their backs. I will not even make direct eye contact with someone in an inferior greek organization. I don't even want your fucking job, it sounds miserable. I just did this so I could wear a suit on campus today and make every other loser at this school feel inferior to me. I'll call daddy and tell him to throw some more cash in the trust fund. Hold on asshole I need to BBM this chick I banged last night to see if she's on the pill...no, of course I don't use condums. What else is there about me. I like movies, but usually my favorites are the ones with really cocky protagonists because they remind me of myself. I like to travel to other countries and take a shit on their cultures, and I really like flatlines. Thats about it, now its your turn. Tell me about a time that you asked this question at an interview to someone exactly like me and they gave you a bullshit response, but you just wanted to here them make one reference to how they really felt? You've got my number, don't call me unless the offer is at least six figures. And Jesus Christ go get a better fucking suit you schmuck. Later dude."
Only in my dreams...only in my dreams...
So this week sucks. Homecoming was tausome, like the best ever. And speaking of things that are really really cool, Fried Fridays are nothing short of a miracle. But now that we all have 4 tests and 9 interviews this week, life just doesn't seem to be, i dunno, fun? Everyone of my interviews is the same and they all start the exact way...
So, Tell me a little bit about yourself...
"Well, since you asked. I go out every night of the week. My current drinking streak is at +36, and I have managed to black out about 40% of the time (if you are a baseball fan, that would mean I have a pretty good slugging %) I believe in nothing but material things and status. I wear trendy clothes to fit in, I spend a lot of money at bars to impress people. I am constantly scheming on everyone, even my friends, who I only surround myself with because I think that it will be advantageous for me to do so. I don't like to work hard at all, I bullshitted my way through B school, which, let's be honest, wasn't that hard. I smoke cigarettes, and occasionally on Sundays I get a little high. My number one pastime is talking shit about people behind their backs. I will not even make direct eye contact with someone in an inferior greek organization. I don't even want your fucking job, it sounds miserable. I just did this so I could wear a suit on campus today and make every other loser at this school feel inferior to me. I'll call daddy and tell him to throw some more cash in the trust fund. Hold on asshole I need to BBM this chick I banged last night to see if she's on the pill...no, of course I don't use condums. What else is there about me. I like movies, but usually my favorites are the ones with really cocky protagonists because they remind me of myself. I like to travel to other countries and take a shit on their cultures, and I really like flatlines. Thats about it, now its your turn. Tell me about a time that you asked this question at an interview to someone exactly like me and they gave you a bullshit response, but you just wanted to here them make one reference to how they really felt? You've got my number, don't call me unless the offer is at least six figures. And Jesus Christ go get a better fucking suit you schmuck. Later dude."
Only in my dreams...only in my dreams...
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Devil in the lime(stone) city
I've been listening to a lot of radio disney lately. Is it gay? Yes. Is it Kevin Spacey gay? Probably not. I hate driving and it constantly makes me tired, so what better to keep me awake then a bunch of pre-pubescents screaming about love and loss. I find it ironic that Miley Cyrus constantly whines about her failed relationships, maybe its because that prude isn't putting out. That would be cause for me to cheat and leave. Then again the real life Hannah Montanna is currently dating a 20 year old making it illegal for him to go down on her in all 49 states.
So while Miley claims to be a virgin, she is exerting some outlandishly whorish behaviors. (You know what I mean, that girl in high school who was dating the college kid. Even if they were in a relationship you looked upon her as trailer trash just for breaking the status quo.) It is much more likely that Miley has guzzled the cum of at least 2/3 of the Jonas Brothers, and it probably having a mid-teen crisis experimental bi-curiousness, with the now "out of the closet" Megan Fox. But then again if any of this became public knowledge the institution that is Disney would probably implode bringing much of the free world down with it. I suppose the economy wouldn't be able to handle it. But I just wish Perez would grow some balls and make some assumptions...
Anyway, now that I've covered that, let me address a few observations I have made this year. Now maybe I went abroad and lost all concept of responsibility but I am pretty disappointed with the amount (or lack there of) of partying that has been done thus far this semester. Now I'll admit, Bear's has been great, the live-out ragers...fun, and the obnoxious amount of boat parties were nothing short of superb.
But what happened to the bars?
Remember Mondays? That used to be one of the greatest nights of the week, but now Kilroy's is as deserted as a Lamda Chi frat party on any given night of the week.
Then there is the issue of Tuesday...yah its cheap blah blah blah, but cheap attracts townies and GDI's. I personally would rather do another 17 hours in the tank than hang out with that D-list crowd anymore.
Wednesday- WHAT HAPPENED? Sports Wednesday! The only acceptable time for nice Greek Protestants to frequent the best set up bar in town. Now the noise level doesn't rise above a moderate buzz until 1 a.m. and instead of getting excited all day about the impending nights I feel like most of you try to brainstorm excuses about not coming out.
Thursday- Ok Thursday is still awesome...I have been quite content with the routine of Bears - Pregame - Kilroys...keep strong friends
The weekends I suppose have been fine. (That riot at tailgate was sweet by the way) This is the first year that I haven't been able to get work done on Sundays because I am suffering from chronic alcohol poisoning. But honestly what happened to the mid-week party. I've come up with a few ideas.
The B School- a disproportionate amount of the social community has a harder than traditional senior year. Unfortunately my colleagues that did not become a marketing major (which requires a kindergarten education only) are struggling through tough finance and accounting tests. Their lame study habits are rubbing off on their friends that don't even have work to do, but don't want to seem irresponsible and unambitious.
The economy- Perhaps the recent drop in the Dow has cut back students' willingness to spend. But then again, anyone out there who has a stock portfolio probably has a trust fund that should be kicking in within the next few months.
Fake ID- Its hard to get into bars now...but then again most seniors are 21...
You grew up too fast- So what we all had internships this summer. We became accustomed to the real world. But the real world is, for now at least, on hold. So instead of prepping for interviews, and studying for tests that won't contribute to your interviewing gpa, enjoy the last lap. You see, Irresponsibility, as you know, is like gravity, all it takes is a little...push. I'll see you out there
So while Miley claims to be a virgin, she is exerting some outlandishly whorish behaviors. (You know what I mean, that girl in high school who was dating the college kid. Even if they were in a relationship you looked upon her as trailer trash just for breaking the status quo.) It is much more likely that Miley has guzzled the cum of at least 2/3 of the Jonas Brothers, and it probably having a mid-teen crisis experimental bi-curiousness, with the now "out of the closet" Megan Fox. But then again if any of this became public knowledge the institution that is Disney would probably implode bringing much of the free world down with it. I suppose the economy wouldn't be able to handle it. But I just wish Perez would grow some balls and make some assumptions...
Anyway, now that I've covered that, let me address a few observations I have made this year. Now maybe I went abroad and lost all concept of responsibility but I am pretty disappointed with the amount (or lack there of) of partying that has been done thus far this semester. Now I'll admit, Bear's has been great, the live-out ragers...fun, and the obnoxious amount of boat parties were nothing short of superb.
But what happened to the bars?
Remember Mondays? That used to be one of the greatest nights of the week, but now Kilroy's is as deserted as a Lamda Chi frat party on any given night of the week.
Then there is the issue of Tuesday...yah its cheap blah blah blah, but cheap attracts townies and GDI's. I personally would rather do another 17 hours in the tank than hang out with that D-list crowd anymore.
Wednesday- WHAT HAPPENED? Sports Wednesday! The only acceptable time for nice Greek Protestants to frequent the best set up bar in town. Now the noise level doesn't rise above a moderate buzz until 1 a.m. and instead of getting excited all day about the impending nights I feel like most of you try to brainstorm excuses about not coming out.
Thursday- Ok Thursday is still awesome...I have been quite content with the routine of Bears - Pregame - Kilroys...keep strong friends
The weekends I suppose have been fine. (That riot at tailgate was sweet by the way) This is the first year that I haven't been able to get work done on Sundays because I am suffering from chronic alcohol poisoning. But honestly what happened to the mid-week party. I've come up with a few ideas.
The B School- a disproportionate amount of the social community has a harder than traditional senior year. Unfortunately my colleagues that did not become a marketing major (which requires a kindergarten education only) are struggling through tough finance and accounting tests. Their lame study habits are rubbing off on their friends that don't even have work to do, but don't want to seem irresponsible and unambitious.
The economy- Perhaps the recent drop in the Dow has cut back students' willingness to spend. But then again, anyone out there who has a stock portfolio probably has a trust fund that should be kicking in within the next few months.
Fake ID- Its hard to get into bars now...but then again most seniors are 21...
You grew up too fast- So what we all had internships this summer. We became accustomed to the real world. But the real world is, for now at least, on hold. So instead of prepping for interviews, and studying for tests that won't contribute to your interviewing gpa, enjoy the last lap. You see, Irresponsibility, as you know, is like gravity, all it takes is a little...push. I'll see you out there
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Welcome back (I know you like dat)
Welcome back to the Frat Italy blog...you should notice some changes...mainly since I'm back, it is no longer a running diary of my experiences in Florence, but more of random thoughts on life. The previous two posts are more of what can be expected from this blog...the old stuff is there because I lacked the ambition to archive it somewhere. I hope you enjoy, and I hope I don't get tossed from the University due to vial content. I look forward to seeing you all in a couple weeks, and until then enjoy.
Much Ado about something
It’s a beautiful August afternoon in Indianapolis, Indiana. So I, like every other American, settle down on my comfy couch with my overweight cat to do some serious surfing. Now as you can imagine it is the middle of the day so nothing of substance can be on any standard channels, so I cruise over to the bizarre combination of HBO/Starz that we have chosen to subscribe to and prepare myself for the worst.
I am shocked as my worst nightmare is avoided yet realized at the same time. See, the only thing worse than finding nothing but shitty movies on, is finding an abundance of flicks that peak your interest. Since I am a self-loathing megalomaniac I am miserable at making decisions and I would rank “choices” just under “terrorism” on the list of things I hate.
This was the intriguing line-up with which I was presented:
Bridge to Terabithia- I fucking love this movie. I have Peter Pan syndrome and the only thing I find more terrifying that growing up, is perhaps the thought of Rosie O’Donnell in the nude. This movie makes me feel like a little kid and I totally buy into the bullshit imagination because I used to do that same thing (still do really), only my best friend didn’t die while I was out trying to tame the fly ass teacher that is Zooey Deschenall…Oh wait did I just ruin the ending?
The Painted Veil- Everything about this movie seems boring. But then again, it is Edward Norton with a British accent, and I have a feeling that the slow pace is going to blow up in my face like a French land mine and I will probably leave the credits with tears or an erection.
I Know Who Killed Me- This movie definitely sucks, but I do still have a little “thing” for Lindsay Lohan, and the description read (GV,L,N) That N has me interested, so either I am going to see that Ginger’s tits or I will watch some crazed killer brutally slaughter her…both equally satisfying.
The Ballad of Jack and Rose- Hm, Daniel Day-Lewis, it must be good. Unfortunately I’ve already watched a movie about Jack and Rose that grossed 600 Million dollars, featured a hot sex scene, and ended with one of the biggest on screen lies ever told…”I’ll never let go?” Ya fucking right…
Far and Away- Non-weird Tom Cruise+ still hot at the time Nicole Kidman+ Irish accents+ badass boxing+ America= guaranteed winner.
Nine Months- If you are a male and don’t think that Hugh Grant is the man you are a fucking moron. The man gets paid 20 million dollars a movie to act like a self-loathing everyman and fuck really hot chicks. Not to mention, he had Elizabeth Hurley as his main squeeze for a while and then started getting hookers just because he is a total bad ass and does what he wants.
With staunch competition I decided that my only logical course of action was to blow off all the movies, write about my frustration, and then look up more pictures of Sara Boberg. Enchanted starts at 9, so I guess I’ll just go ahead and wait until then (inside, god forbid I go enjoy the day) Maybe I’ll read some of my old work and celebrate my cleverness with a Barlett and James fuzzy navel while I listen to Jock Jams volume 3.
I am shocked as my worst nightmare is avoided yet realized at the same time. See, the only thing worse than finding nothing but shitty movies on, is finding an abundance of flicks that peak your interest. Since I am a self-loathing megalomaniac I am miserable at making decisions and I would rank “choices” just under “terrorism” on the list of things I hate.
This was the intriguing line-up with which I was presented:
Bridge to Terabithia- I fucking love this movie. I have Peter Pan syndrome and the only thing I find more terrifying that growing up, is perhaps the thought of Rosie O’Donnell in the nude. This movie makes me feel like a little kid and I totally buy into the bullshit imagination because I used to do that same thing (still do really), only my best friend didn’t die while I was out trying to tame the fly ass teacher that is Zooey Deschenall…Oh wait did I just ruin the ending?
The Painted Veil- Everything about this movie seems boring. But then again, it is Edward Norton with a British accent, and I have a feeling that the slow pace is going to blow up in my face like a French land mine and I will probably leave the credits with tears or an erection.
I Know Who Killed Me- This movie definitely sucks, but I do still have a little “thing” for Lindsay Lohan, and the description read (GV,L,N) That N has me interested, so either I am going to see that Ginger’s tits or I will watch some crazed killer brutally slaughter her…both equally satisfying.
The Ballad of Jack and Rose- Hm, Daniel Day-Lewis, it must be good. Unfortunately I’ve already watched a movie about Jack and Rose that grossed 600 Million dollars, featured a hot sex scene, and ended with one of the biggest on screen lies ever told…”I’ll never let go?” Ya fucking right…
Far and Away- Non-weird Tom Cruise+ still hot at the time Nicole Kidman+ Irish accents+ badass boxing+ America= guaranteed winner.
Nine Months- If you are a male and don’t think that Hugh Grant is the man you are a fucking moron. The man gets paid 20 million dollars a movie to act like a self-loathing everyman and fuck really hot chicks. Not to mention, he had Elizabeth Hurley as his main squeeze for a while and then started getting hookers just because he is a total bad ass and does what he wants.
With staunch competition I decided that my only logical course of action was to blow off all the movies, write about my frustration, and then look up more pictures of Sara Boberg. Enchanted starts at 9, so I guess I’ll just go ahead and wait until then (inside, god forbid I go enjoy the day) Maybe I’ll read some of my old work and celebrate my cleverness with a Barlett and James fuzzy navel while I listen to Jock Jams volume 3.
What ever happened to the Alpha Male?
I awoke today feeling like absolute dogshit* as I usually do after watching an entire season of a Showtime comedy and sleeping on the couch. Then I did the worst thing ever which is moving out. Seriously I would rather take a bullet to a non-vital or have a shard of titanium wedged up my big toenail than move out.
*This phrase doesn’t completely make sense, no one has ever interviewed dog shit and found out that he was not feeling 100 hundred percent. In fact other than the fact that he occasionally gets stepped on, most of the time he just lays around in the sun and chills…and that isn’t half bad.
So needless to say on my 4 hour drive home without power steering I did what anyone else would do: blasted American top 40 and pretended that I was the protagonist of the upcoming film Death Race. I must have taken out like 12 bogeys with my mini-gun alone in between Chicago and Lafayette. But since it is Olympics season and I was feeling most patriotic, I started targeting only foreign made cars, especially those of the Asian flavor. This one particular jet black Civic Si trailed me for nearly 11 exits and had nearly rammed off my bumper before I finally did him in with a well timed oil slick and one of Tony Stark’s Jericho missles.
But speaking of the Olympics, how boring is Michael Phelps? The guy makes Tiger Woods look exciting. I couldn’t help but be incredibly disappointed by his last two interviews, all the guy could say was “Wow, I’m at a loss for words.” Loss for words? You just won eight fucking gold medals in one Olympics and smashed every athletic achievement to date! How in the hell can you be at a loss for words? So obviously I started thinking about exactly how I would have answered this friendly inquiry…
Mr. Phelps, how does it feel to win your 8th gold medal of the 2008 games?
“Well. Needless to say I feel like the fucking man! I mean did you see that shit? I just went 8 for 8 on gold medals and I managed to also set a handful of world records, I’m really fucking sweet. I’m just glad that balding old man we call an anchor didn’t fuck up at the end or I would have had to shove his Viagra bottle up his ass and burn off the little remaining hair he has.”
Wow. Strong words Michael, what are you going to do now?
“Well as for the immediate future, I am going to go to Olympic village and wax at least two female athletes from the entire European Union and a few Chinese bitches too. But first I am going to have 7 of my medals melted down to craft a golden crown that I will wear for the rest of the games. I’ll wear my 8th around my neck while I’m pwning my victim. She will get to wear one of my old silvers, just to remind her that she is my submissive.”
What can we expect for the 2012 games in London Michael?
“Aside from breaking all of my own records and learning to fly, I think I’m going to take gold in the trampoline jumping event. I mean trampoline jumping? Are you fucking kidding me pal? I used to spend some time on trampolines in junior high when I was getting my pubes stuck in girls’ braces who were sucking their first dick! Here’s the routine. I will lay on the trampoline while two twin Scandanavian bomb shells take turns blowing my cock. Degree of difficulty zero! I’m fucking Michael Phelps.”
Any parting words Michael?
“Ya, to all the assholes that made fun of me for my lisp and for having ADD before it was cool, just sleep easy knowing that I am going to hunt down each and every one of your little sisters and improve my back stroke. PEACE Beijing Ching Chang Chong I’m OUT!”
…Now wouldn’t that be a giant improvement over…”loss for words?”
Don’t get me wrong I’m very impressed by Phelps’s athletic achievement, but what I’ll probably remember four years from now is how washed up that poolside reporter has become and how Baltimore Mike’s interview skills are right on par with the strength of that Serbian weightlifter’s elbow tendons.
On the flip side, someone who really proved a winner in the Beijing games was Sara Boberg, the incredibly average Swedish archer who appeared nude on the internet earlier this week. Now here is some one I would never have even come close to remembering or even hearing about in the first place, but now she will forever go down in my mind as three of the most satisfying masturbation sessions of my life. I’d like to put a nice gold medal right in between those perky tits and puffy nipples to do a little target practice of my own. Good work Sara!
And finally, how can I neglect to mention the Chad Johnson of Track and Field, Mr. Usain Bolt! Talk about a rockstar! The kid goes out and destroys the world record in the 100 meter dash and stops trying three quarters of the way down so he can showboat the last 20 or so meters. In his post race interview when asked how fast could he have run the 100 meters he dodged the question with something like I’m just glad I won the gold medal. But what he meant to say is?
“Who gives a shit? Next Olympics I’ll run it in 5 seconds and then bust out cardboard wings and cross the English Channel. Now someone give me a sack full of condums and the key to Sara Boberg’s room. I’ve got some more records to break.”
Mr. Phelps could take a lesson from Mr. Bolt when it comes to charisma and gamesmanship. But for now the autistic swimming savant with the shit eating grin can enjoy his billion dollar endorsement that he is sure to receive from Nike. And I know if I were him I would settle down with a coca cola (I loved the “Go World” campaign) and make a list of every celebrity I have ever fantasized about while pounding a below average sorority girl on a Wednesday night. Then I’d start off by calling number one and saying…”Hello, this is Michael Phelps…” Degree of difficulty, Zero.
*This phrase doesn’t completely make sense, no one has ever interviewed dog shit and found out that he was not feeling 100 hundred percent. In fact other than the fact that he occasionally gets stepped on, most of the time he just lays around in the sun and chills…and that isn’t half bad.
So needless to say on my 4 hour drive home without power steering I did what anyone else would do: blasted American top 40 and pretended that I was the protagonist of the upcoming film Death Race. I must have taken out like 12 bogeys with my mini-gun alone in between Chicago and Lafayette. But since it is Olympics season and I was feeling most patriotic, I started targeting only foreign made cars, especially those of the Asian flavor. This one particular jet black Civic Si trailed me for nearly 11 exits and had nearly rammed off my bumper before I finally did him in with a well timed oil slick and one of Tony Stark’s Jericho missles.
But speaking of the Olympics, how boring is Michael Phelps? The guy makes Tiger Woods look exciting. I couldn’t help but be incredibly disappointed by his last two interviews, all the guy could say was “Wow, I’m at a loss for words.” Loss for words? You just won eight fucking gold medals in one Olympics and smashed every athletic achievement to date! How in the hell can you be at a loss for words? So obviously I started thinking about exactly how I would have answered this friendly inquiry…
Mr. Phelps, how does it feel to win your 8th gold medal of the 2008 games?
“Well. Needless to say I feel like the fucking man! I mean did you see that shit? I just went 8 for 8 on gold medals and I managed to also set a handful of world records, I’m really fucking sweet. I’m just glad that balding old man we call an anchor didn’t fuck up at the end or I would have had to shove his Viagra bottle up his ass and burn off the little remaining hair he has.”
Wow. Strong words Michael, what are you going to do now?
“Well as for the immediate future, I am going to go to Olympic village and wax at least two female athletes from the entire European Union and a few Chinese bitches too. But first I am going to have 7 of my medals melted down to craft a golden crown that I will wear for the rest of the games. I’ll wear my 8th around my neck while I’m pwning my victim. She will get to wear one of my old silvers, just to remind her that she is my submissive.”
What can we expect for the 2012 games in London Michael?
“Aside from breaking all of my own records and learning to fly, I think I’m going to take gold in the trampoline jumping event. I mean trampoline jumping? Are you fucking kidding me pal? I used to spend some time on trampolines in junior high when I was getting my pubes stuck in girls’ braces who were sucking their first dick! Here’s the routine. I will lay on the trampoline while two twin Scandanavian bomb shells take turns blowing my cock. Degree of difficulty zero! I’m fucking Michael Phelps.”
Any parting words Michael?
“Ya, to all the assholes that made fun of me for my lisp and for having ADD before it was cool, just sleep easy knowing that I am going to hunt down each and every one of your little sisters and improve my back stroke. PEACE Beijing Ching Chang Chong I’m OUT!”
…Now wouldn’t that be a giant improvement over…”loss for words?”
Don’t get me wrong I’m very impressed by Phelps’s athletic achievement, but what I’ll probably remember four years from now is how washed up that poolside reporter has become and how Baltimore Mike’s interview skills are right on par with the strength of that Serbian weightlifter’s elbow tendons.
On the flip side, someone who really proved a winner in the Beijing games was Sara Boberg, the incredibly average Swedish archer who appeared nude on the internet earlier this week. Now here is some one I would never have even come close to remembering or even hearing about in the first place, but now she will forever go down in my mind as three of the most satisfying masturbation sessions of my life. I’d like to put a nice gold medal right in between those perky tits and puffy nipples to do a little target practice of my own. Good work Sara!
And finally, how can I neglect to mention the Chad Johnson of Track and Field, Mr. Usain Bolt! Talk about a rockstar! The kid goes out and destroys the world record in the 100 meter dash and stops trying three quarters of the way down so he can showboat the last 20 or so meters. In his post race interview when asked how fast could he have run the 100 meters he dodged the question with something like I’m just glad I won the gold medal. But what he meant to say is?
“Who gives a shit? Next Olympics I’ll run it in 5 seconds and then bust out cardboard wings and cross the English Channel. Now someone give me a sack full of condums and the key to Sara Boberg’s room. I’ve got some more records to break.”
Mr. Phelps could take a lesson from Mr. Bolt when it comes to charisma and gamesmanship. But for now the autistic swimming savant with the shit eating grin can enjoy his billion dollar endorsement that he is sure to receive from Nike. And I know if I were him I would settle down with a coca cola (I loved the “Go World” campaign) and make a list of every celebrity I have ever fantasized about while pounding a below average sorority girl on a Wednesday night. Then I’d start off by calling number one and saying…”Hello, this is Michael Phelps…” Degree of difficulty, Zero.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Happy Birthday Mom
Happy birthday Lisa. Anyways, I am going to be taking a brief leave of abscence from the blog so I can focus on writing my screenplay, American Vampires. I will be in Chicago all summer. Hit me up.
It's been real.
It's been real.
Friday, May 16, 2008
The 25th hour
On the dawn on my exodus back to the States, I find an unsettling disturbance in the things to come. What do I have to look forward to but work and paying for gas? Then again there is the Indy 500, Cathedral people, Chicago, Chipotle, my family, Boo Boo, Kilroys, Ripple, Lincoln Park...ok I guess I'm ready. But what about Central Park, Maracana, elementary level classes, 30 minute walks, The Oil Shoppe, Twice, my fat bachelor pad, daily doses of gorgeous east coast girls...ok well, lets just say a favorable ratio. I'm going to miss it all. Buying bottles like I had money and drinking 6 nights a week will be hard to give up...but it's almost over.
But it doesn't have to be...
I could get a job promoting clubs for the Americans studying here this summer. I could live in a Hostel and learn Italian during the day. I could just not get on my flight and stay here. I'll come back some day, well maybe. Maybe not. I stayed in North America for 21 years, I don't see why I can't rip another continent an equal amount of times. On the weekends I can RyanAir anywhere in Europe. I could completely see the world. I could probably take enough online classes to get some sort of degree from Indiana...I could meet an Italian woman and fall in love. We would get married and have lots of kids and raise them bilingually. We could live with her parents until we had enough money to get our own villa in Tuscany. It would be perfect.
Or...
I get on that plane Monday and go immediately to Broad Ripple. I storm through the doors of the Tavern and immediately buy a bottle. After it runs out we slum over to Peppers and eventually take a cab back to Peoni's house and sleep on wooden floors. I could wake up in the morning and walk to chipotle and then have my brother pick me up and drive me to Dan's house at which point we will sail all day. Then comes the Indy 500 I will black out with every friend I have made over the past 9 years. Then I'll move to Chicago and it will be incredible, day games at Wrigley, late nights in LP. After a summer of insanity I will return to my kingdom in Bloomington, and every day after class I can sit on my porch of shingles and drink beer while people watching until the sun goes down. Then I will go to Kilroy's buy 4 long islands until I feel confident enough to walk over to that girl in the corner and buy her a drink. Then I will dance until I am sweaty and make the 50 meter walk home, hopefully not alone.
It will be perfect.
Dave
P.S. Fryman I want my movies back, that's the last time I bring movies to our sleepover, you always hide them in the morning when I make my walk of shame home.
But it doesn't have to be...
I could get a job promoting clubs for the Americans studying here this summer. I could live in a Hostel and learn Italian during the day. I could just not get on my flight and stay here. I'll come back some day, well maybe. Maybe not. I stayed in North America for 21 years, I don't see why I can't rip another continent an equal amount of times. On the weekends I can RyanAir anywhere in Europe. I could completely see the world. I could probably take enough online classes to get some sort of degree from Indiana...I could meet an Italian woman and fall in love. We would get married and have lots of kids and raise them bilingually. We could live with her parents until we had enough money to get our own villa in Tuscany. It would be perfect.
Or...
I get on that plane Monday and go immediately to Broad Ripple. I storm through the doors of the Tavern and immediately buy a bottle. After it runs out we slum over to Peppers and eventually take a cab back to Peoni's house and sleep on wooden floors. I could wake up in the morning and walk to chipotle and then have my brother pick me up and drive me to Dan's house at which point we will sail all day. Then comes the Indy 500 I will black out with every friend I have made over the past 9 years. Then I'll move to Chicago and it will be incredible, day games at Wrigley, late nights in LP. After a summer of insanity I will return to my kingdom in Bloomington, and every day after class I can sit on my porch of shingles and drink beer while people watching until the sun goes down. Then I will go to Kilroy's buy 4 long islands until I feel confident enough to walk over to that girl in the corner and buy her a drink. Then I will dance until I am sweaty and make the 50 meter walk home, hopefully not alone.
It will be perfect.
Dave
P.S. Fryman I want my movies back, that's the last time I bring movies to our sleepover, you always hide them in the morning when I make my walk of shame home.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Ryan Larkin, J.D.
"Yeah, me and my buddy Ryan here just graduated law school at Depaul, we are in Europe celebrating. We both have jobs with large firms in Chicago starting in August."
This is just part of how we legitamized our claim to enter a bar that claimed must be 23 to enter. Among other things Lark bought a round of flatlines for 65 euro (only for 3 people), and we also had car bombs (courtesy of Potts) and the classic Jager Bomb...courtesy of this guy.
...but then Taylor had to take us to take the infamous gas chamber shot, which climaxed with both Taylor and Ryan taking puke walks.
Yes, Dublin is incredible, the Guiness factory, amazing. Pub darts, amazing. Our bar tabs, high. Besides striking out with ladies of all ages and ethnicities (actually when I see we I mean "I struck out"), we earned it on all sorts of levels.
My favorite moment of the trip came on the first night though, in a brief exchange of words between Ryan and an Irish bartender...
"Hey man can I get a straw for my drink."
(Bartender takes Ryan's drink, adds two straws, a stirrer, and two wedges of fruit)
"Here you go mate, and the gay bar is two blocks that way!"
Needless to say we had a crack of a time and got mangled all weekend.
We lost Potts on several occasions but by this point I'm almost starting to think he likes ditching us for the locals.
It's been one week,
Dave
This is just part of how we legitamized our claim to enter a bar that claimed must be 23 to enter. Among other things Lark bought a round of flatlines for 65 euro (only for 3 people), and we also had car bombs (courtesy of Potts) and the classic Jager Bomb...courtesy of this guy.
...but then Taylor had to take us to take the infamous gas chamber shot, which climaxed with both Taylor and Ryan taking puke walks.
Yes, Dublin is incredible, the Guiness factory, amazing. Pub darts, amazing. Our bar tabs, high. Besides striking out with ladies of all ages and ethnicities (actually when I see we I mean "I struck out"), we earned it on all sorts of levels.
My favorite moment of the trip came on the first night though, in a brief exchange of words between Ryan and an Irish bartender...
"Hey man can I get a straw for my drink."
(Bartender takes Ryan's drink, adds two straws, a stirrer, and two wedges of fruit)
"Here you go mate, and the gay bar is two blocks that way!"
Needless to say we had a crack of a time and got mangled all weekend.
We lost Potts on several occasions but by this point I'm almost starting to think he likes ditching us for the locals.
It's been one week,
Dave
Grand Theft Auto 5: Florence
Judging by the record smashing first week success of the sales of GTA4; I started thinking of good ideas for the next installment of the Rockstar classic, and this is what I have figured out...
Strolling past the Duomo late on a Sunday afternoon our protagonist, Adriano, is approached by a hunchbacked gypsy. He hears the familiar cling cling of the change in the gypsy's plastic cup...her obnoxious plea for spare change. Adriano reaches in his pocket and donates a 20 cent euro coin and smiles at the old woman.
... but then suddenly he presses L2 twice and wields a 36 inch aluminum bat. He brutally pummels the woman to death in a matter of several bonecrushing blows. He then stands over her corpse as several glowing money bills hover over the bloody mess. He collects them and begins to run. Two stars, the familiar sirens of the Cabinieri flood the area. He sprints down an alley and presses L2 again and whips out a semi-automatic pistol. He unloads several rounds into a teenager on a vespa who slumps off the scooter that goes slamming through the front door of Shot Cafe. ***, now the Polizia Municipale are involved. Adriano jumps on the battered bike, and speeds away towards the Pontevecchio, running over several innocent pedestrians on the way. A stray bullet catches Adriano on the shoulder, health 72. He shoots off of a stray ledge that is jarring off of the old bridge as he ruins an artisan's paper clip exhibit. The bike goes flying across the arno and the speed of action switches to slow motion. Adriano lands safely on the other side by crashing through a window at Golden view open bar. He grabs a cheese pizza and his health is restored to 90.
He needs to lay low, so he runs into the Bubli gardens, there he finds a hidden package...nice! Now the police have forgotten about him so Adriano goes to an underboss Davide's house for a mission.
The mission:
"Yo Adriano, I got this club called Space, but this new joint called Twice is killing us with the American crowd. Here's what I need you to do, do around the ally and I left some "fireworks" for you. Go over to twice and put on a little light show, and bring those stupid east coast hoes back to my club, with their guido boyfriends."
Adriano collects the Molotav cocktails in the ally and steals a fiat to drive to twice. He parks in Santa Croce and then sprints down the alley to Twice. Once there he strategically places 5 of these firebombs to torch the club, screams are everywhere and people evacuate the club. Then the owner runs out cursing and Adriano pumps a shotgun round right into his stomach. Adriano sprints down another alley and grabs a donner Kebab for energy and health. His phone rings: "hey baby, come to central park I got something waiting for you"
Adriano steals a bicycle to keep a low profile and rides it towards Piazza Republica, he smashes the glass to the Hugo Boss store and rips a new suit. Finally he hails a cab, then assassinates the driver and cruises to Cascine Central...it's going to be a good night.
Mission Accomplished $400
Respect Level: Henchman
GTA 5...coming soon to a gaming store near you
Strolling past the Duomo late on a Sunday afternoon our protagonist, Adriano, is approached by a hunchbacked gypsy. He hears the familiar cling cling of the change in the gypsy's plastic cup...her obnoxious plea for spare change. Adriano reaches in his pocket and donates a 20 cent euro coin and smiles at the old woman.
... but then suddenly he presses L2 twice and wields a 36 inch aluminum bat. He brutally pummels the woman to death in a matter of several bonecrushing blows. He then stands over her corpse as several glowing money bills hover over the bloody mess. He collects them and begins to run. Two stars, the familiar sirens of the Cabinieri flood the area. He sprints down an alley and presses L2 again and whips out a semi-automatic pistol. He unloads several rounds into a teenager on a vespa who slumps off the scooter that goes slamming through the front door of Shot Cafe. ***, now the Polizia Municipale are involved. Adriano jumps on the battered bike, and speeds away towards the Pontevecchio, running over several innocent pedestrians on the way. A stray bullet catches Adriano on the shoulder, health 72. He shoots off of a stray ledge that is jarring off of the old bridge as he ruins an artisan's paper clip exhibit. The bike goes flying across the arno and the speed of action switches to slow motion. Adriano lands safely on the other side by crashing through a window at Golden view open bar. He grabs a cheese pizza and his health is restored to 90.
He needs to lay low, so he runs into the Bubli gardens, there he finds a hidden package...nice! Now the police have forgotten about him so Adriano goes to an underboss Davide's house for a mission.
The mission:
"Yo Adriano, I got this club called Space, but this new joint called Twice is killing us with the American crowd. Here's what I need you to do, do around the ally and I left some "fireworks" for you. Go over to twice and put on a little light show, and bring those stupid east coast hoes back to my club, with their guido boyfriends."
Adriano collects the Molotav cocktails in the ally and steals a fiat to drive to twice. He parks in Santa Croce and then sprints down the alley to Twice. Once there he strategically places 5 of these firebombs to torch the club, screams are everywhere and people evacuate the club. Then the owner runs out cursing and Adriano pumps a shotgun round right into his stomach. Adriano sprints down another alley and grabs a donner Kebab for energy and health. His phone rings: "hey baby, come to central park I got something waiting for you"
Adriano steals a bicycle to keep a low profile and rides it towards Piazza Republica, he smashes the glass to the Hugo Boss store and rips a new suit. Finally he hails a cab, then assassinates the driver and cruises to Cascine Central...it's going to be a good night.
Mission Accomplished $400
Respect Level: Henchman
GTA 5...coming soon to a gaming store near you
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Central Park
In Btown the best thing you can hope for on a Tuesday is perhaps a two dollar 32 ounce long island at my second home or perhaps get really high with some japs in smallwood...
...but in Florence that is not the case.
Welcome to Central Park. Surrounded by tranvestites, heroin addicts, and other nafarious creatures, the club Central is nothing short of paradise. Donning outdoor bars, dance floors, and even some cool VIP lounges for rich J's like Phil and Zach, Central is by far the most entertaining club in southern Europe.
Tuesday nights are nothing short of amazing here in Firenze. Last night DJ Berrie (wtf?) spun some ultra mash-ups and Steve danced so hard I thought he was going to give Hunter heart failure or a stroke (or some weird combination of both)
Chase polished off a fifth of gin...standard, and then stole a cab and drove us to our ultimate destination. I believe I counted 4 times that Taylor fell off of tables and or bought rounds consisting of more than 5 drinks and Larkin...well he smoked a lot of cigarettes. I will post videos soon of this frat haven that is Central Park. Until then picture me dancing to Journey in a Eurotrash suit with a faux hawk shmecking every little Boston girl I see.
Who's got two thumbs and will be back in 12 days...
THIS GUY!
...but in Florence that is not the case.
Welcome to Central Park. Surrounded by tranvestites, heroin addicts, and other nafarious creatures, the club Central is nothing short of paradise. Donning outdoor bars, dance floors, and even some cool VIP lounges for rich J's like Phil and Zach, Central is by far the most entertaining club in southern Europe.
Tuesday nights are nothing short of amazing here in Firenze. Last night DJ Berrie (wtf?) spun some ultra mash-ups and Steve danced so hard I thought he was going to give Hunter heart failure or a stroke (or some weird combination of both)
Chase polished off a fifth of gin...standard, and then stole a cab and drove us to our ultimate destination. I believe I counted 4 times that Taylor fell off of tables and or bought rounds consisting of more than 5 drinks and Larkin...well he smoked a lot of cigarettes. I will post videos soon of this frat haven that is Central Park. Until then picture me dancing to Journey in a Eurotrash suit with a faux hawk shmecking every little Boston girl I see.
Who's got two thumbs and will be back in 12 days...
THIS GUY!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Frat-Out 2008
Living on my own has made me feel like an adult. So have the dinner parties, the extensive travelling, and the countless cultural activities that I have done to pass my time in Italy. I have visited 11 countries in three months and I have learned a lot and seen things that 99% of the world population will never see.
...but then I go and get blacked out every night and wake up in a foreign country or a strange vehicle of sorts. (or in bed with Larkin)
Part of growing up is learning to share, it's not about labeling food and ripping someone's head off if they accidently drink your 50 cent beer.
It's about buying a grill and inviting 30 IU people to an annual pitch in!
A-G Side dish
H-N Meat
O-Z Booze
fuck that
A-Z Booze
Last Wednesday we hosted the barbeque to end all barbeques...with 20 pounds of meat, 2 kilos of hot dogs, corn, bruschetta, dip, puppy chow, and about enough beer to get the entire population of Tunisia tipsy.
I was so fucking pumped that I made a shirt. That's when you know it's a big event.
Grillmaster Hunter fed all in attendance and donned a chef hat to add to group morale. All in all it was a fabulous day on the Frat Italy patio. It didn't make things worse when we strolled to our favorite late night spot Marcana and bought a bottle in honor of David Banner. Even Jewlian (haha) through down on the bottle and enjoyed a fruit skewer!
The last thing I remember is hearing Cadillac's on 22's and any animosity I may have obtained for the Italian culture lifted from me like the dew on the grass burned away by a hot mid-summer sunrise.
I love Italy and I love being independent.
Steve what should I say?
Fuck that I'm 21!
See you soon
...but then I go and get blacked out every night and wake up in a foreign country or a strange vehicle of sorts. (or in bed with Larkin)
Part of growing up is learning to share, it's not about labeling food and ripping someone's head off if they accidently drink your 50 cent beer.
It's about buying a grill and inviting 30 IU people to an annual pitch in!
A-G Side dish
H-N Meat
O-Z Booze
fuck that
A-Z Booze
Last Wednesday we hosted the barbeque to end all barbeques...with 20 pounds of meat, 2 kilos of hot dogs, corn, bruschetta, dip, puppy chow, and about enough beer to get the entire population of Tunisia tipsy.
I was so fucking pumped that I made a shirt. That's when you know it's a big event.
Grillmaster Hunter fed all in attendance and donned a chef hat to add to group morale. All in all it was a fabulous day on the Frat Italy patio. It didn't make things worse when we strolled to our favorite late night spot Marcana and bought a bottle in honor of David Banner. Even Jewlian (haha) through down on the bottle and enjoyed a fruit skewer!
The last thing I remember is hearing Cadillac's on 22's and any animosity I may have obtained for the Italian culture lifted from me like the dew on the grass burned away by a hot mid-summer sunrise.
I love Italy and I love being independent.
Steve what should I say?
Fuck that I'm 21!
See you soon
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
My best pack of Greek trading cards ever
Greek satire of the month-
I walked into a Circle K and I filled myself up a major polar pop of Pepsi. I then go up to the clerk and request my usual pack. He tosses me a fresh pack of IU Greek trading cards. I eagerly scurry out of the station and rip open the pack as I always do, very excited to see the rarity of the players I got. Every pack was typically the same. You got 5 cards, usually 3 frat guys and 2 sorority girls. Typically you would get a couple duds, maybe a couple of promising up and comers and one total all-star. I would typically mentally rank these as a 1,2, or 3. Little did I know today was my lucky day. I immediately see Lauren McMahel as my first card with the following stats.
Lauren McMahel- Chi Omega- Jordan Extension division, Senior
Face: (attractiveness) 97
Party: (Willingness to go out) 92
Wallet: (money spent at the bars) 90
Fame: (notariety on campus) 98
Substance: (Personality, intelligence, ambition) 94
Special move: The Ktown stomp (induces 25 damage points)
What an all-star! This card had to be worth a pretty penny, it crushed my former best card of Erik Styacich! His highest ranking was face and that was only an 82!
In my joyous moment I almost completely forgot about my other 4 cards!
The next was a solid up and comer named Mike Snyder! All of his stats were in the 70s and 80s and he was only a sophomore. The value would only appreciate with time.
Next I got an Eric Kozik, a solid card but I already had a couple, I figured I could parlay it for a pretty solid trade with a fellow card collector.
Next I unveiled a whopper! A Lauryn Roberts rookie card! Wow was I thrilled, I was 4 for 4 on category 1 cards thus far. This pack must have been some sort of mistake. Any one of these cards would go to be the top 10 in my collection. I knew I must have the ultimate bum coming up, but I almost fainted when I flipped the next over.
I had heard about a very few cards that gave out perfect values of 100. It was rumored that if a character had 100/100 in any category they were portrayed as a glossy hologram. I was staring face to face with Matt McBroom.
Wallet: *100*
Special move: Charge This! (250 damage points)
I had done it. I was now in the exclusive club of the elite collectors who had obtained a perfect card. And I owed it all to Mr. McBroom's obsessive frat tabbing at Kilroy's. I called my parents and told them all about it, I even shared it with my fraternity brothers at chapter. It was and always will be the best day of my life.
Some people care about the Babe Ruth rookie card, others about the rare Charizard hologram...well fuck them! I had my Matt McBroom hologram IU greek card!
More Greek satires to come!
I walked into a Circle K and I filled myself up a major polar pop of Pepsi. I then go up to the clerk and request my usual pack. He tosses me a fresh pack of IU Greek trading cards. I eagerly scurry out of the station and rip open the pack as I always do, very excited to see the rarity of the players I got. Every pack was typically the same. You got 5 cards, usually 3 frat guys and 2 sorority girls. Typically you would get a couple duds, maybe a couple of promising up and comers and one total all-star. I would typically mentally rank these as a 1,2, or 3. Little did I know today was my lucky day. I immediately see Lauren McMahel as my first card with the following stats.
Lauren McMahel- Chi Omega- Jordan Extension division, Senior
Face: (attractiveness) 97
Party: (Willingness to go out) 92
Wallet: (money spent at the bars) 90
Fame: (notariety on campus) 98
Substance: (Personality, intelligence, ambition) 94
Special move: The Ktown stomp (induces 25 damage points)
What an all-star! This card had to be worth a pretty penny, it crushed my former best card of Erik Styacich! His highest ranking was face and that was only an 82!
In my joyous moment I almost completely forgot about my other 4 cards!
The next was a solid up and comer named Mike Snyder! All of his stats were in the 70s and 80s and he was only a sophomore. The value would only appreciate with time.
Next I got an Eric Kozik, a solid card but I already had a couple, I figured I could parlay it for a pretty solid trade with a fellow card collector.
Next I unveiled a whopper! A Lauryn Roberts rookie card! Wow was I thrilled, I was 4 for 4 on category 1 cards thus far. This pack must have been some sort of mistake. Any one of these cards would go to be the top 10 in my collection. I knew I must have the ultimate bum coming up, but I almost fainted when I flipped the next over.
I had heard about a very few cards that gave out perfect values of 100. It was rumored that if a character had 100/100 in any category they were portrayed as a glossy hologram. I was staring face to face with Matt McBroom.
Wallet: *100*
Special move: Charge This! (250 damage points)
I had done it. I was now in the exclusive club of the elite collectors who had obtained a perfect card. And I owed it all to Mr. McBroom's obsessive frat tabbing at Kilroy's. I called my parents and told them all about it, I even shared it with my fraternity brothers at chapter. It was and always will be the best day of my life.
Some people care about the Babe Ruth rookie card, others about the rare Charizard hologram...well fuck them! I had my Matt McBroom hologram IU greek card!
More Greek satires to come!
Monday, April 28, 2008
Trenitalia-(French Riviera)
Just got back from French Riviera...it was fantastic. Larkin and I escorted Jess and Shana around the South of France and it was nothing short of paradise. The time that wasn't spent binge drinking on the beach or falling asleep on barstools was pretty much spent in trains or sleeping.
concerning the trains...
after a wonderful day laying on the glorious man-made beaches in Cannes, we hopped on the train back to Nice...or dare I say everyone including White Mountain (phil), zach, shan, lark, jess...I was nowhere to be found. It would probably help if I painted a more vivid picture for you. We did not relax on the beach and purely tan, there were 2 litres of Malibu involved, a couple bottles of vino and dos 40's. I lost my companions after wrestling with a non-cooperative vending machine. I would later find out that I boarded the correct train, but in a drunken cotastrophe, hopped to first class and promptly passed out.
Cannes...Nice (my stop)...Monte Carlo (now in the wrong country)...Menton(seriously fucked)...Ventimille(Welcome to Italy) 'Sir! This is the end of the line you must get off'
Fuck...
I am now an hour away from my friends. Shana has my wallet, I don't have a phone, I am hammered, and have a history of getting lost.
The next train back to Nice is in 3 and a half hours-
Fuck.
I have €2.80...
Fuck.
Cigarettes. Budget now 40 cents...i am seriously fucked.
I DO have a really expensive camera though, so i decide to waste my time by taking pictures of the shit town that I am stranded in. I see a lovely fountain outside the train station and decide it would be a wonderful way to commemorate my excursion. Unbeknownst to me the flash of the cam had woken a nearby bum...furious at my audacity the bum started screaming at me in some sort of pig latin, the next thing i know I am on the ground bleeding because the fiesty bum has pummeled me in the jaw.
Fuck.
An elderly Italian man helps me to my feet and ushers me to a room...I begin to chain smoke. I finally board my train home and share my journeys with some fellows studying abroad in Maastricht. When I arrive the following note has been left by the love of my life.
Moeller,
Went to the police station, very worried about you, call Larkin with my phone.
Love,
Your (sad) friends
To which I text to ryan...
I an alive. Call me.
...they returned Phil roughed me up a little and then we went out for cocktails.
All in all it was a fabulous weekend. Best trip so far, and def made me realize who my future wife is. Other notables include Phil and Zach's extreme luck in Monte Carlo, a great sandwich at Subway, and the French are awesome.
It should also be noted that Larkin and I proceded to black out at the Fiorentina soccer game yesterday and then Estaban and Potts accompanied me to my favorite bar on Cavour...5 shots 5 euro
...it's amazing that I made it to Italian this morning.
I'll see you all soon,
Post Scripts-
Carmen and all other Indy supporters if you are reading this right now...let's go racing
Kels if you are reading this now...I'm ready for Monroe
Quinn...Geist
Dan...first legal beer with my best friend
everyone else (except for the Koziks)...20 days
concerning the trains...
after a wonderful day laying on the glorious man-made beaches in Cannes, we hopped on the train back to Nice...or dare I say everyone including White Mountain (phil), zach, shan, lark, jess...I was nowhere to be found. It would probably help if I painted a more vivid picture for you. We did not relax on the beach and purely tan, there were 2 litres of Malibu involved, a couple bottles of vino and dos 40's. I lost my companions after wrestling with a non-cooperative vending machine. I would later find out that I boarded the correct train, but in a drunken cotastrophe, hopped to first class and promptly passed out.
Cannes...Nice (my stop)...Monte Carlo (now in the wrong country)...Menton(seriously fucked)...Ventimille(Welcome to Italy) 'Sir! This is the end of the line you must get off'
Fuck...
I am now an hour away from my friends. Shana has my wallet, I don't have a phone, I am hammered, and have a history of getting lost.
The next train back to Nice is in 3 and a half hours-
Fuck.
I have €2.80...
Fuck.
Cigarettes. Budget now 40 cents...i am seriously fucked.
I DO have a really expensive camera though, so i decide to waste my time by taking pictures of the shit town that I am stranded in. I see a lovely fountain outside the train station and decide it would be a wonderful way to commemorate my excursion. Unbeknownst to me the flash of the cam had woken a nearby bum...furious at my audacity the bum started screaming at me in some sort of pig latin, the next thing i know I am on the ground bleeding because the fiesty bum has pummeled me in the jaw.
Fuck.
An elderly Italian man helps me to my feet and ushers me to a room...I begin to chain smoke. I finally board my train home and share my journeys with some fellows studying abroad in Maastricht. When I arrive the following note has been left by the love of my life.
Moeller,
Went to the police station, very worried about you, call Larkin with my phone.
Love,
Your (sad) friends
To which I text to ryan...
I an alive. Call me.
...they returned Phil roughed me up a little and then we went out for cocktails.
All in all it was a fabulous weekend. Best trip so far, and def made me realize who my future wife is. Other notables include Phil and Zach's extreme luck in Monte Carlo, a great sandwich at Subway, and the French are awesome.
It should also be noted that Larkin and I proceded to black out at the Fiorentina soccer game yesterday and then Estaban and Potts accompanied me to my favorite bar on Cavour...5 shots 5 euro
...it's amazing that I made it to Italian this morning.
I'll see you all soon,
Post Scripts-
Carmen and all other Indy supporters if you are reading this right now...let's go racing
Kels if you are reading this now...I'm ready for Monroe
Quinn...Geist
Dan...first legal beer with my best friend
everyone else (except for the Koziks)...20 days
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The real slim shady
Apparently a gang of young hoodlums has set out to destroy my good name in an act of internet slander. My name has been attached to some odd 439 threads on juicycampus, so now everyone at IU thinks I am an asshole. But then again, most people who read juicycampus are, themselves, assholes. I just wanted to clear the air that I have never posted on juicycampus, and though Amanda and I enjoy reading from time to time about the intense hatred of redneck midwesterners of the "east coast japs" and I even have to laugh when an overexagerrated tale of some freshman's sexual record hits the presses; I find the website cowardly, and do not subscribe to its authenticity.
So please discount any thoughts or accusations that bear my name on the website. It is simply someone small hiding behind my apparently controversial image. Some people can't deal with the idea of growing up or getting a job so they spend more time on gossip websites when they need to be setting their home page to the ucso.
Besides why share my glory with drunken whores, doomed fraternities, and ironic rants, when I can basque in my glory all alone...
Right here.
Thanks,
The real slim shady
So please discount any thoughts or accusations that bear my name on the website. It is simply someone small hiding behind my apparently controversial image. Some people can't deal with the idea of growing up or getting a job so they spend more time on gossip websites when they need to be setting their home page to the ucso.
Besides why share my glory with drunken whores, doomed fraternities, and ironic rants, when I can basque in my glory all alone...
Right here.
Thanks,
The real slim shady
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Casualties of War
Matteotti 25 was a proud house of 10 men a few short weeks ago, but now our full strength is somewhere between 8 and 9. Roomie Jon from Michigan was sent home after intense internal problems. Apparently when they removed his appendix in Amsterdam, they were toying with the wrong organ...now in advanced stages of Pancreitus his family has opted to get him back to the states for proper medical care, so have all your thoughts and prayers with Jon and his family.
And then there's Jack...
After a full weekend of crashing together mighty steins of flavorful beer, our protagonist decided that one last afternoon black-out was an order. He proceeded to drink about 6 litres of beer and pass out onto the hood of a blue BMW. After being dragged half conscious to the train station Jack passed out on a bench in front of our train. We all loaded the train and after about an hour we realized that no one had seen Jack, but he purchased his ticket seperately so perhaps he was on a different car.
Sure enough, 4 am rolls around and Hunter receives a garbled call and can make out a few words: "drunk, Germans, club, Munich, party, drunk"
...and thats the last any of us have heard from JP Shannon
Jon- Wounded in battle
Jack- Missing in Action
The violence must stop
And then there's Jack...
After a full weekend of crashing together mighty steins of flavorful beer, our protagonist decided that one last afternoon black-out was an order. He proceeded to drink about 6 litres of beer and pass out onto the hood of a blue BMW. After being dragged half conscious to the train station Jack passed out on a bench in front of our train. We all loaded the train and after about an hour we realized that no one had seen Jack, but he purchased his ticket seperately so perhaps he was on a different car.
Sure enough, 4 am rolls around and Hunter receives a garbled call and can make out a few words: "drunk, Germans, club, Munich, party, drunk"
...and thats the last any of us have heard from JP Shannon
Jon- Wounded in battle
Jack- Missing in Action
The violence must stop
David´s German Checklist
Litres of Beer consumed: 23 +or- 2
Steins broken due to excessive cheersing: 2
Carnival toys won for hot chicks: 1
Beergardens visited: 4
Local beers sampled: 6
Photos taken: 236
Nights that ended after 2 am: 0
Blackouts: 2
Sleepwalks: 1
Concentration Camps visited: 1
Cigarettes: ~32
High fives exchanged: 194
Hangovers: 3
Brats consumed: 3
Roast Ducks dominated: 1
Rides riden: 3
Larkin impressions: 74
Times used the word "earn": countless
Times I have complimented A hof on her bangs: 83
Times I have wished Courtney lived with us: 682
Times I have thought about Florence: 0
Steins broken due to excessive cheersing: 2
Carnival toys won for hot chicks: 1
Beergardens visited: 4
Local beers sampled: 6
Photos taken: 236
Nights that ended after 2 am: 0
Blackouts: 2
Sleepwalks: 1
Concentration Camps visited: 1
Cigarettes: ~32
High fives exchanged: 194
Hangovers: 3
Brats consumed: 3
Roast Ducks dominated: 1
Rides riden: 3
Larkin impressions: 74
Times used the word "earn": countless
Times I have complimented A hof on her bangs: 83
Times I have wished Courtney lived with us: 682
Times I have thought about Florence: 0
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Sober thoughts
So here I sit, typing away in my German hostel in Munich. The Y and Z key are switched and it is driving me nuts. There is also a very creepy black man following around Larkin and Chase, this is why I am not friendly to strangers. Now we will have Stephen the 32 year old burn out trailing us the rest of our journey...whatever
Anyways, I figure this is the last moment I will be sober until Monday morning. It is beerfest here or something, and I fully intend on sampling every beer in Bavaria while I am here. TPotts and I are going to make ponchos so that we can cheers our steins together so hard that a rainshower of frothy foam ensues. My hangover from the train drinking is starting to kick in, I would not advise drinking 6 large beers and 3 gin and tonics on the euro night unless you have an MBA in earning it. I cant check in to my room for another 6 hours, I might have to ask this asian gentlemen to my left how to do a samurai suicide...hari kari.
Fuck it...back to my hammock.
SPEA later.
P.S. A double cheeseburger meal from BK in Germany is 4.50 Euro
Anyways, I figure this is the last moment I will be sober until Monday morning. It is beerfest here or something, and I fully intend on sampling every beer in Bavaria while I am here. TPotts and I are going to make ponchos so that we can cheers our steins together so hard that a rainshower of frothy foam ensues. My hangover from the train drinking is starting to kick in, I would not advise drinking 6 large beers and 3 gin and tonics on the euro night unless you have an MBA in earning it. I cant check in to my room for another 6 hours, I might have to ask this asian gentlemen to my left how to do a samurai suicide...hari kari.
Fuck it...back to my hammock.
SPEA later.
P.S. A double cheeseburger meal from BK in Germany is 4.50 Euro
Friday, April 11, 2008
Can't nobody hold me down
I'm back on facebook baby and now I am in Barcelona right now posted on the couch in Anna and Kish's apartment. Last night I emerged from my black out at 5 am sleepwalking around Barcelona without my shoes on. Apparently Taylor and I fell asleep to Wedding Crashers but in the middle of the night I mysteriously disappeared, story of my life...right?
Anyways, its kind of a shitty day out so we are going to tie dye shirts for our little 5 party on the beach tomorrow. Hopefully the IU crew will swell when we recruit up and comers like Julian and Josh and we can successfully frat the face off of Spain in the next few nights. Is it pathetic that its 4 pm and we just woke up?
A few quick notes-
Played landmines last night they have canned beers here
An average club here is way better than everything in Florence
Still searching for that first Bud Light
Lost Peter troll, sorry Steve
Barcelona is awesome
Made microwave popcorn for the first time in Europe...delicious
Insta-coffee doesn't always taste bad
Lost Ashley last night, but she just arrived at front door unharmed, instinct to survive must be strong in that one
Monday's IDS headline: Phi Psi breaks the curse: wins 8th little 5
Larkin is legally stoned right now for the first time in his life
18 credits as a senior? Kilroy's attendance will not be negatively correlated with ammount of credits.
Class attendance may be.
I should probably go buy some beer and wash my feet off, 3 hours bare foot in a big city can't be healthy.
Peace
el conquistador...
P.S. Adam Mercer is the key to victory tomorrow, you guys don't know this yet but he found a magic lamp on spring break in 7th grade. He never used his third wish, time to pull the trigger Adam.
Anyways, its kind of a shitty day out so we are going to tie dye shirts for our little 5 party on the beach tomorrow. Hopefully the IU crew will swell when we recruit up and comers like Julian and Josh and we can successfully frat the face off of Spain in the next few nights. Is it pathetic that its 4 pm and we just woke up?
A few quick notes-
Played landmines last night they have canned beers here
An average club here is way better than everything in Florence
Still searching for that first Bud Light
Lost Peter troll, sorry Steve
Barcelona is awesome
Made microwave popcorn for the first time in Europe...delicious
Insta-coffee doesn't always taste bad
Lost Ashley last night, but she just arrived at front door unharmed, instinct to survive must be strong in that one
Monday's IDS headline: Phi Psi breaks the curse: wins 8th little 5
Larkin is legally stoned right now for the first time in his life
18 credits as a senior? Kilroy's attendance will not be negatively correlated with ammount of credits.
Class attendance may be.
I should probably go buy some beer and wash my feet off, 3 hours bare foot in a big city can't be healthy.
Peace
el conquistador...
P.S. Adam Mercer is the key to victory tomorrow, you guys don't know this yet but he found a magic lamp on spring break in 7th grade. He never used his third wish, time to pull the trigger Adam.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Music and Lyrics
Has anyone ever read the lyrics for "Throw Some D's"? It is an abomination to say the least. Mr. Boy has set his people back at least 50 years with his rambling jargon slangisms and crude ebonics.
However, we will all be purchasing tickets to the concert because there isn't anything else to do in this god forsaken country except drink in excess. I really don't have anything to write about, I'm pretty much bored because my facebook destiny is still on trial. I would love to give Mark Zuckerburg a swift kick to the junk, who is that cocky cunt to tell me I can't poke, post and tag?
Get me to Spain...and fuck Italian keyboards, this message is taking so long to type.
Really all I want is a Keystone and some Buffalo sauce...and it is so much more satisfying to bring a girl back from Kilroy's than these grimy clubs here with our half twin mattresses. Ok, whatever mini-rant adjourned, enjoy your little 5...i need to go dri nk away my confusion.
Disallusioned with non-Americans,
George W...
P.S. Justin Kozik is coming to stay with me...Hooray!
However, we will all be purchasing tickets to the concert because there isn't anything else to do in this god forsaken country except drink in excess. I really don't have anything to write about, I'm pretty much bored because my facebook destiny is still on trial. I would love to give Mark Zuckerburg a swift kick to the junk, who is that cocky cunt to tell me I can't poke, post and tag?
Get me to Spain...and fuck Italian keyboards, this message is taking so long to type.
Really all I want is a Keystone and some Buffalo sauce...and it is so much more satisfying to bring a girl back from Kilroy's than these grimy clubs here with our half twin mattresses. Ok, whatever mini-rant adjourned, enjoy your little 5...i need to go dri nk away my confusion.
Disallusioned with non-Americans,
George W...
P.S. Justin Kozik is coming to stay with me...Hooray!
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Facebook extradition
You may have noticed I have been kicked off facebook. I don't really want to get into it, but more or less I left my account open and instead of one of my buddies turning me into Dave the gay nurse who loved Brokeback Mountain, some australian turned me into Patrick Bateman the serial killer of gays and whores. Needless to say Facebook didn't deal with this too lightly, but I sent an e-mail and hopefully my exile will soon end.
Anyways I heard Gorman was getting a little too fratty over the weekend and all of our thoughts and prayers are with him, apparently Jake told Jack that he is going to be OK which is great news, please be careful the rest of the week guys.
I just got back from the French Riviera where I laid on the beach all day writing my novel, it's all about IU and if you guys want to read it, I'll send you a copy when I'm done. It's kind of a downer though, don't expect a book on my memoirs (or lack their of) of Kilroy's.
So we are having a little 5 of our own over here, minus the 200,000 dollar budget (I know its only 20, that exageration was intentional.) But we managed to rcok pretty hard all day yesterday and the festivities continue tonight with a barbeque and "Green Street Hooligans" bar crawl.
Tomorrow we are all dressing like Tau's and having a "I love new york" party and then going to a Rich Boy concert. D's will be thrown everywhere.
Thursday I'm crusing to Barcelona to get my XO fix since Bryant and Logan always seem to be hiding somewhere mysterious. Peazy and Anna have promised me a beach party with a little 5 theme. I am excited to say the least.
By the way I'm going to Paris with Larkin Jess and Shana in two weeks, I have high aspirations for that weekend being the absolute highlight of my life, if not at least a top 3 weekend abroad.
If you kids win little 5 I will send you all mail order brides from Holland and I will try vegetables. I seriously can't believ I'm not there for one of my last little 5's and I even registered for classes yesterday, I'm fucking old and its bullshit. I envy the likes of Alex Konstantopoulous who have at least three years left in Btown. We've watched breaking away three times already this week, I used to like the ending but now I find myself sympathizing with the Sigma Taus and uttering "fucking gdis..." I mean if it weren't for Steve Tesich we would all be the reigning champs right now.
Frat hard this week and have a beer, fifth, or some strange combination of several for me and the guys this week.
It's hip to be square,
Huey Lewis...
Anyways I heard Gorman was getting a little too fratty over the weekend and all of our thoughts and prayers are with him, apparently Jake told Jack that he is going to be OK which is great news, please be careful the rest of the week guys.
I just got back from the French Riviera where I laid on the beach all day writing my novel, it's all about IU and if you guys want to read it, I'll send you a copy when I'm done. It's kind of a downer though, don't expect a book on my memoirs (or lack their of) of Kilroy's.
So we are having a little 5 of our own over here, minus the 200,000 dollar budget (I know its only 20, that exageration was intentional.) But we managed to rcok pretty hard all day yesterday and the festivities continue tonight with a barbeque and "Green Street Hooligans" bar crawl.
Tomorrow we are all dressing like Tau's and having a "I love new york" party and then going to a Rich Boy concert. D's will be thrown everywhere.
Thursday I'm crusing to Barcelona to get my XO fix since Bryant and Logan always seem to be hiding somewhere mysterious. Peazy and Anna have promised me a beach party with a little 5 theme. I am excited to say the least.
By the way I'm going to Paris with Larkin Jess and Shana in two weeks, I have high aspirations for that weekend being the absolute highlight of my life, if not at least a top 3 weekend abroad.
If you kids win little 5 I will send you all mail order brides from Holland and I will try vegetables. I seriously can't believ I'm not there for one of my last little 5's and I even registered for classes yesterday, I'm fucking old and its bullshit. I envy the likes of Alex Konstantopoulous who have at least three years left in Btown. We've watched breaking away three times already this week, I used to like the ending but now I find myself sympathizing with the Sigma Taus and uttering "fucking gdis..." I mean if it weren't for Steve Tesich we would all be the reigning champs right now.
Frat hard this week and have a beer, fifth, or some strange combination of several for me and the guys this week.
It's hip to be square,
Huey Lewis...
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Righters Block
I think that one of the most important parts of a blog entry, article, story, poem, etc. is to have a strong title. For example I have just given you something seemingly misspelled and out of place. But no I am not having trouble thinking of things to write about, I just thought that Righters Block would be a really cool play on words if perhaps I was going to touch on the problems in the Republican party, the electability of McCain or just disarray with conservatism in general. I will not bore you with that though because I know my audience isn't very political, but that's just a quick lesson for those of you who apire to write in the future, now without further adu today's blogpost...
Title: Dead Men Walking
We have a meeting with our program tomorrow and we could be severely fucked. They refuse to tell us what the problem is but it is hinted that there are severe consequences in store for us. Let's evaluate some of the things that they could be deporting us for...
-Noise complaints...but we live in an office park, so it would have to be a noise complaint from someone a block away or the lawyer's don't enjoy our day drinking events...to be honest neither would surprise me.
-The large ammounts of vomit that have been piling up outside the front door recently...this one also would be no surprise since I think just about every Kappa has made some sort of deposit to the puke puddle recently. In this case I will put all of the blame on my poor cooking and their weak stomachs...after all it is possible to yak without drinking.
-The large amounts of "cigarettes" that are smoked in the apartment...well we'll just have to deny til we die
-The overwhelming number of shackers that we have...haha, but seriously if you have people spend the night in Italy it is a felony so even when little bro sleeps on the couch you are putting your life on the line. It probably becomes much more obvious when you stumble home with a loud Boston girl at 6 in the morning and then proceed to well I don't know...whatever Boston girls like to do when they get back from bars that is probably loud, obnoxious, and rude.
It could also be any combonation of these things, I have cleverly devised escape strategies for most of these theories, but if I fail I may be seeing you all sooner rather than later, at which point I will not tell my parents and live on the frat couch until May 19th, and then someone is going to have to drive me to Detroit so my parents can pick me up and bring me home.
I work on Wall Street,
Patrick Bateman...
P.S. http://phipsiphlightforafriend.googlepages.com/
Title: Dead Men Walking
We have a meeting with our program tomorrow and we could be severely fucked. They refuse to tell us what the problem is but it is hinted that there are severe consequences in store for us. Let's evaluate some of the things that they could be deporting us for...
-Noise complaints...but we live in an office park, so it would have to be a noise complaint from someone a block away or the lawyer's don't enjoy our day drinking events...to be honest neither would surprise me.
-The large ammounts of vomit that have been piling up outside the front door recently...this one also would be no surprise since I think just about every Kappa has made some sort of deposit to the puke puddle recently. In this case I will put all of the blame on my poor cooking and their weak stomachs...after all it is possible to yak without drinking.
-The large amounts of "cigarettes" that are smoked in the apartment...well we'll just have to deny til we die
-The overwhelming number of shackers that we have...haha, but seriously if you have people spend the night in Italy it is a felony so even when little bro sleeps on the couch you are putting your life on the line. It probably becomes much more obvious when you stumble home with a loud Boston girl at 6 in the morning and then proceed to well I don't know...whatever Boston girls like to do when they get back from bars that is probably loud, obnoxious, and rude.
It could also be any combonation of these things, I have cleverly devised escape strategies for most of these theories, but if I fail I may be seeing you all sooner rather than later, at which point I will not tell my parents and live on the frat couch until May 19th, and then someone is going to have to drive me to Detroit so my parents can pick me up and bring me home.
I work on Wall Street,
Patrick Bateman...
P.S. http://phipsiphlightforafriend.googlepages.com/
Monday, March 31, 2008
My dad makes $650 an hour
Ok that's bullshit, but he at least probably makes that in a day or two, either that or I have no concept of money but this is the reason I am bringing it up.
Famed Shylock Matt Kamhi has somehow raised $20,000 dollars through shady investments in questionable hedge funds and sports betting success for this year's little 500 parties. The fratters in Btown have also decided to start Little 5 week on Thursday...before little 5. That means there will be 11 days of partying in mid April and the frat will undoubtedly lose the highest GPA crown which I am completely fine with, because of the legendary things that you guys have planned we'll have more sorority girls swinging from the Phi Psi nuts than we can count (ok that was a little brash but $20,000 in 10 days is pretty impressive, that amounts to like $2000 dollars a day for partying)
In any event I have heard that Thunder and I's favorite band DOT DOT DOT will be making an appearance at the frat, and it will actually be warm enough to enjoy boats this year. This along with the annual saki bombing, the return of Sty, Diamon, and face has made me come to the conclusion that I just HAVE to come back. (Don't let this overshadow the fact that my best friend is going to win little 5 this year.)
Jack, Taylor, and I are going to be forming a website in the next few days asking alumni for money...I would pull the trigger on my own, but I am in so much debt right now that I may need to stay over here a little longer to hude from creditors. But God willing we shall return for what Jeff London is billing as the best Little 5 week ever.
So thunder, koz, jon, dan, mikey, alex hold your breaths because we might just be coming home to frat your faces off...and if we do make it back someone is going to have to tell Wade Gerard to expedite the process of our new house because i will undoubtedly be burning our current residence to the ground.
I miss you all more than ever,
2759...
P.S. Frat East sent their ballots in for president last night in favor of a Peter Joe Massa, I hope they were counted...also I think Spencer would make a fantastic vice president, and you should create a new position called dictator and give it to Thunder so whatever he says goes and he can have his doubters executed.
Famed Shylock Matt Kamhi has somehow raised $20,000 dollars through shady investments in questionable hedge funds and sports betting success for this year's little 500 parties. The fratters in Btown have also decided to start Little 5 week on Thursday...before little 5. That means there will be 11 days of partying in mid April and the frat will undoubtedly lose the highest GPA crown which I am completely fine with, because of the legendary things that you guys have planned we'll have more sorority girls swinging from the Phi Psi nuts than we can count (ok that was a little brash but $20,000 in 10 days is pretty impressive, that amounts to like $2000 dollars a day for partying)
In any event I have heard that Thunder and I's favorite band DOT DOT DOT will be making an appearance at the frat, and it will actually be warm enough to enjoy boats this year. This along with the annual saki bombing, the return of Sty, Diamon, and face has made me come to the conclusion that I just HAVE to come back. (Don't let this overshadow the fact that my best friend is going to win little 5 this year.)
Jack, Taylor, and I are going to be forming a website in the next few days asking alumni for money...I would pull the trigger on my own, but I am in so much debt right now that I may need to stay over here a little longer to hude from creditors. But God willing we shall return for what Jeff London is billing as the best Little 5 week ever.
So thunder, koz, jon, dan, mikey, alex hold your breaths because we might just be coming home to frat your faces off...and if we do make it back someone is going to have to tell Wade Gerard to expedite the process of our new house because i will undoubtedly be burning our current residence to the ground.
I miss you all more than ever,
2759...
P.S. Frat East sent their ballots in for president last night in favor of a Peter Joe Massa, I hope they were counted...also I think Spencer would make a fantastic vice president, and you should create a new position called dictator and give it to Thunder so whatever he says goes and he can have his doubters executed.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
It would be rude not to (volume 1)
Location: Greece
It would be rude not to...
-Walk the beaches with dead dogs
-Black out in a pink toga
-Do beer bongs out of penises
-ATV in the Corfu mountains
-Pass out during sexual activities
-Schmeck Victoria Beckham
-Have a personal fifth race
-Party at a discotech on a boat until asked to leave
-Take a total of 7 buses and two boats to arrive at your destination
-Swim in a hot tub that confirmed 9 girls were railed in the night before
-smoke at least a pack of cigarettes a day
-Eat at Applebee's in Athens
-Get attacked by hookers with knives after calling them "ho's fa sho"
-Buy 15 bottles of champagne at a Hookah Bar and dance on tables
-Try to make Phil drink
-Take 148 pictures of the Acropolis
-Pregame at a bar with 1 euro shots (ten tequilla...thats a pregame chief)
-Spend at least 1000 dollars in a week
-Pregame during the classic film "The Terminal"
-get hammered and play hide and go seek in a 4 star hotel
-did i mention our cruise ship had a club
-Two words...alpha beer
-sleeping in your own bed is for cowards
-shamelessly make out with randos in front of hords of people
-take 8 sleeping pills, 6 pain killers, and play cards
-dance like an idiot on crack
-get drunk 12 seperate times in 7 days
-and still go to Space Saturday night and close it down...
it would be very rude not to do any of the previous...and thats just the sensored version...I can't wait to come home drunk and spill all the dirt...especially Michelle's...
It would be very rude not to put the earn it in fraternity,
Scott Rude...
P.S. Zach Fryman is a little bitch
It would be rude not to...
-Walk the beaches with dead dogs
-Black out in a pink toga
-Do beer bongs out of penises
-ATV in the Corfu mountains
-Pass out during sexual activities
-Schmeck Victoria Beckham
-Have a personal fifth race
-Party at a discotech on a boat until asked to leave
-Take a total of 7 buses and two boats to arrive at your destination
-Swim in a hot tub that confirmed 9 girls were railed in the night before
-smoke at least a pack of cigarettes a day
-Eat at Applebee's in Athens
-Get attacked by hookers with knives after calling them "ho's fa sho"
-Buy 15 bottles of champagne at a Hookah Bar and dance on tables
-Try to make Phil drink
-Take 148 pictures of the Acropolis
-Pregame at a bar with 1 euro shots (ten tequilla...thats a pregame chief)
-Spend at least 1000 dollars in a week
-Pregame during the classic film "The Terminal"
-get hammered and play hide and go seek in a 4 star hotel
-did i mention our cruise ship had a club
-Two words...alpha beer
-sleeping in your own bed is for cowards
-shamelessly make out with randos in front of hords of people
-take 8 sleeping pills, 6 pain killers, and play cards
-dance like an idiot on crack
-get drunk 12 seperate times in 7 days
-and still go to Space Saturday night and close it down...
it would be very rude not to do any of the previous...and thats just the sensored version...I can't wait to come home drunk and spill all the dirt...especially Michelle's...
It would be very rude not to put the earn it in fraternity,
Scott Rude...
P.S. Zach Fryman is a little bitch
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Story of my life
Well three days pass and obviously a lot of shit goes down. St. Patty's on Monday was a pretty fun night but in the midst of midterms it couldn't get too out of control. Nevertheless we managed to drink plenty of green beer and get pretty Irish.
Tuesday Potts and I decided to start drinking at about 2 pm and after 8 beers and a fifth of vodka (a fantastic pregame if you ask me) I was ready to embark upon my night. Alledgedly I went out and was so retarted that I didn't even recognize Rachel Ward, who was in town visiting chelsea. After we left the first bar, I think I tried to navigate my way to Space to help Larkybear celebrate his 21st birthday...I didn't quite make it...and the next thing I knew I woke up tied to a gurney in an ambulence with an IV in my arm. But due to a clever escape plot I was able to cause a big enough scene to make the ambulence driver pull over to check on what was wrong. Then I made my move and tossed the small Italian paramedics out of the way and sprinted home...just another Tuesday night I suppose.
Last Night an unseasonal hurricane came through town and his name was Chris. Needless to say he performed Ay Babay 12 times and it thoroughly sucked. But Larkin was able to successfully black out and buy a bottle. It should also be noted that several Kappas were in town celebrating Lindsay's birthday, but as is the case on many 21st birthdays she was unable to make it past 10 pm. but then again, neither was Mal, and it was probably irresponsible of us to let Kathryn come out. But whatever, we all got drunk, I found Joe vetri and Ed, and we ripped shots of Absolut as we recollected old times destroying things at Kilroys.
Happy 21st John.
I will noow spend the next 10 days blacked out on a beach in Greece...
See you then,
Your study abroad companion...
P.S. It's a thursday and jack doesn't want to go out
Tuesday Potts and I decided to start drinking at about 2 pm and after 8 beers and a fifth of vodka (a fantastic pregame if you ask me) I was ready to embark upon my night. Alledgedly I went out and was so retarted that I didn't even recognize Rachel Ward, who was in town visiting chelsea. After we left the first bar, I think I tried to navigate my way to Space to help Larkybear celebrate his 21st birthday...I didn't quite make it...and the next thing I knew I woke up tied to a gurney in an ambulence with an IV in my arm. But due to a clever escape plot I was able to cause a big enough scene to make the ambulence driver pull over to check on what was wrong. Then I made my move and tossed the small Italian paramedics out of the way and sprinted home...just another Tuesday night I suppose.
Last Night an unseasonal hurricane came through town and his name was Chris. Needless to say he performed Ay Babay 12 times and it thoroughly sucked. But Larkin was able to successfully black out and buy a bottle. It should also be noted that several Kappas were in town celebrating Lindsay's birthday, but as is the case on many 21st birthdays she was unable to make it past 10 pm. but then again, neither was Mal, and it was probably irresponsible of us to let Kathryn come out. But whatever, we all got drunk, I found Joe vetri and Ed, and we ripped shots of Absolut as we recollected old times destroying things at Kilroys.
Happy 21st John.
I will noow spend the next 10 days blacked out on a beach in Greece...
See you then,
Your study abroad companion...
P.S. It's a thursday and jack doesn't want to go out
Monday, March 17, 2008
Errors and Omissions
This post will completely be dedicated to all the things I have fucked up thus far on the Florence Alpha blog. It will include some stories that I realized (or you insisted to me) need to be on the site. It should also appease all of those who feel like their participation in my study abroad experience has not been accurately represented. So without further adue...the errors and ommissions edition.
1. Shana helped cook on Valentine's Day. She was actually in the kitchen all night working on her bruschetta. She looked incredibly cute for several reasons...A, it was valentine's day and she was obviously trying to impress me (I hope), and there is absolutely nothing sexier than a hot little domestic southerner cooking for you in your own kitchen. The reason I probably didn't write this sooner was that I just assumed it was some sort of fantasy or wet dream I had one night...but Shana confirmed that it was true. So thanks Ms. Burke for the meal. (Totally hoping that this shout out will get me laid)
2. You may recall a post I had about how much I hate the east coast and think that they should be eradicated from the Earth via some sort of plague. I think that if I could make it rain over long island, but then turn the rain into sparks, the hair gel should go up in flames and we would have a toasty corpse in no time...they would need dental records to identify the body...or perhaps some ashen remnants of their flat bill hat which probably won't burn since it must be made of metal to stay so flat...anyways I digress...
First of all I don't hate all of the east coast people. In fact I really only hate every guy in Florence who either wears a Boston Red Sox World Series hat, a fur jacket, grooms a pencil thin mustache and goatee, and says "yo" too much. We fucking get it you are a proud East coast piece of trash...but stick to your stretch pants whores and leave my IU girls alone! I reiterate, I don't hate all east coast people...just the aforementioned and even if I do hate an east coast girl I would still love to give her a hatef... you catch my drift.
3. We buy bottles now.
But not so we can look like badass Taus, we realized we can actually cheat the system of Florence clubs. Let me explain. I live with ten people. A table and bottle costs €100 after Potts negotiates with Splinter for a while (The rat creature that promotes for Maracana outside LdM) We get 2 tables and 2 bottles and divide this cost by 10. So 200/10 = 20 euro a person. This gets us free coatcheck free cover and approximately 4 shots each...a 30 euro value! (haha like an infomercial I should sell some fucking knives) There is also the fact that it makes us look ballin as hell and the average member of my apartment has noticed a 24% gain in his category of "ass crushed" because of it. But don't worry we still refuse to take cabs and if someone owes us 2 bucks...we're getting that large fucking coin come hell or high water. I would also like to note that when the Sheiks use this tactic on the same night as us and we roll 35 deep at a club with 4 bottles I feel like such a big deal that I could literally take the Yankees hat off any shaved head guido in the club, take a shit in it, place it back on his head, and he would get kicked out.
*Random Thought* Chris's (the all american) girlfriend is really hot
4. Sarah Meneely is a goddess because she brought me a Chi O date auction shirt. Clearly I am the CEO, President, and Founder of the Hooter fan club, so Sarah thought to bring me a nice Salmon colored shirt that combined my two favorite things in the whole wide world, Chi O and Kilroys! Thanks Sarah!
(Remember those brownie points I just scored with Shana...well now they're pretty much down the drain)
5. I just got off the phone with Kozik and he told me what he would do...in every situation he would either sucker punch the guy or lead with the tounge. Pretty sound advice Eric. Thanks.
6. Quick apology...I'm sorry for posting the names of a lot of prominent IU sorority girls on Juicycampus.com with the tagline: "Thoughts?" I seriously thought I was setting you up to be heralded with praise for your pose and class...I didn't think it would turn into an ATO forum of all the third street hoes that they had sodomized. So I think Iìll stop doing that.
7. I just remembered I didn't get a BJ from IUgossip girl...it was a really bad, dry handjob in the bathroom of Bluebird Freshman year...to be honest I was just smiling because my Texas ID was still holding up.
8. Random shout outs: Zach Fryman (totally getting schmecked right now), Des, Jamie, Jessie, Amy, Courtney, A Hoff, and even Weisberg...if you guys are following the saga of my life I regret to inform you that Finks still refuses to take me seriously as a potential lover and life partner.
9. I can't believe I forgot to mention this...Gabby Denker is the coolest chick alive...Oh I know how I forgot to tell you that, because I met her Wednesday night and instead of going home and writing a quick blog before my flight to London at 7 a.m. I listened to Wicked and drank red wine. My ITunes play count of defying gravity is currently at 401...waaaaait 402.
10. I think I also forgot to tell you that on the way to Amsterdam Jonny Krane's appendix burst and he almost died...but no worry friends his rock hard liver acted as a bullet proof vest for all the toxic gas that emerged from the imploding organ. To celebrate his survival and his 21st birthday J Krane has preordered 5 bottles at Maracana and is alledgedly splitting an 8 ball with Hurricane Chris. So I advise all of Florence to come take advantage of a blacked out Jon with a trigger happy finger...ya his gun actually has a strange name I think he calls it American Express Black.
Alright I hope that cleared the air a little bit for everyone. I just read a book called the Perks of Being a Wallflower and every letter is signed
Love Always,
Charlie
but I think this one works better for me:
Love at 4 A.M. via text...(come on baby come over),
Dave
P.S. I'm serious CKM's gf is a dime!
1. Shana helped cook on Valentine's Day. She was actually in the kitchen all night working on her bruschetta. She looked incredibly cute for several reasons...A, it was valentine's day and she was obviously trying to impress me (I hope), and there is absolutely nothing sexier than a hot little domestic southerner cooking for you in your own kitchen. The reason I probably didn't write this sooner was that I just assumed it was some sort of fantasy or wet dream I had one night...but Shana confirmed that it was true. So thanks Ms. Burke for the meal. (Totally hoping that this shout out will get me laid)
2. You may recall a post I had about how much I hate the east coast and think that they should be eradicated from the Earth via some sort of plague. I think that if I could make it rain over long island, but then turn the rain into sparks, the hair gel should go up in flames and we would have a toasty corpse in no time...they would need dental records to identify the body...or perhaps some ashen remnants of their flat bill hat which probably won't burn since it must be made of metal to stay so flat...anyways I digress...
First of all I don't hate all of the east coast people. In fact I really only hate every guy in Florence who either wears a Boston Red Sox World Series hat, a fur jacket, grooms a pencil thin mustache and goatee, and says "yo" too much. We fucking get it you are a proud East coast piece of trash...but stick to your stretch pants whores and leave my IU girls alone! I reiterate, I don't hate all east coast people...just the aforementioned and even if I do hate an east coast girl I would still love to give her a hatef... you catch my drift.
3. We buy bottles now.
But not so we can look like badass Taus, we realized we can actually cheat the system of Florence clubs. Let me explain. I live with ten people. A table and bottle costs €100 after Potts negotiates with Splinter for a while (The rat creature that promotes for Maracana outside LdM) We get 2 tables and 2 bottles and divide this cost by 10. So 200/10 = 20 euro a person. This gets us free coatcheck free cover and approximately 4 shots each...a 30 euro value! (haha like an infomercial I should sell some fucking knives) There is also the fact that it makes us look ballin as hell and the average member of my apartment has noticed a 24% gain in his category of "ass crushed" because of it. But don't worry we still refuse to take cabs and if someone owes us 2 bucks...we're getting that large fucking coin come hell or high water. I would also like to note that when the Sheiks use this tactic on the same night as us and we roll 35 deep at a club with 4 bottles I feel like such a big deal that I could literally take the Yankees hat off any shaved head guido in the club, take a shit in it, place it back on his head, and he would get kicked out.
*Random Thought* Chris's (the all american) girlfriend is really hot
4. Sarah Meneely is a goddess because she brought me a Chi O date auction shirt. Clearly I am the CEO, President, and Founder of the Hooter fan club, so Sarah thought to bring me a nice Salmon colored shirt that combined my two favorite things in the whole wide world, Chi O and Kilroys! Thanks Sarah!
(Remember those brownie points I just scored with Shana...well now they're pretty much down the drain)
5. I just got off the phone with Kozik and he told me what he would do...in every situation he would either sucker punch the guy or lead with the tounge. Pretty sound advice Eric. Thanks.
6. Quick apology...I'm sorry for posting the names of a lot of prominent IU sorority girls on Juicycampus.com with the tagline: "Thoughts?" I seriously thought I was setting you up to be heralded with praise for your pose and class...I didn't think it would turn into an ATO forum of all the third street hoes that they had sodomized. So I think Iìll stop doing that.
7. I just remembered I didn't get a BJ from IUgossip girl...it was a really bad, dry handjob in the bathroom of Bluebird Freshman year...to be honest I was just smiling because my Texas ID was still holding up.
8. Random shout outs: Zach Fryman (totally getting schmecked right now), Des, Jamie, Jessie, Amy, Courtney, A Hoff, and even Weisberg...if you guys are following the saga of my life I regret to inform you that Finks still refuses to take me seriously as a potential lover and life partner.
9. I can't believe I forgot to mention this...Gabby Denker is the coolest chick alive...Oh I know how I forgot to tell you that, because I met her Wednesday night and instead of going home and writing a quick blog before my flight to London at 7 a.m. I listened to Wicked and drank red wine. My ITunes play count of defying gravity is currently at 401...waaaaait 402.
10. I think I also forgot to tell you that on the way to Amsterdam Jonny Krane's appendix burst and he almost died...but no worry friends his rock hard liver acted as a bullet proof vest for all the toxic gas that emerged from the imploding organ. To celebrate his survival and his 21st birthday J Krane has preordered 5 bottles at Maracana and is alledgedly splitting an 8 ball with Hurricane Chris. So I advise all of Florence to come take advantage of a blacked out Jon with a trigger happy finger...ya his gun actually has a strange name I think he calls it American Express Black.
Alright I hope that cleared the air a little bit for everyone. I just read a book called the Perks of Being a Wallflower and every letter is signed
Love Always,
Charlie
but I think this one works better for me:
Love at 4 A.M. via text...(come on baby come over),
Dave
P.S. I'm serious CKM's gf is a dime!
Saturday, March 15, 2008
We Will Rock the Wicked Citizen, "Abbey"
That title is stupid, right? Wrong! I have once again cleverly linked pretty much everything I did in a fantastic weekend into one seemingly nonsensical phrase. First a quick outline of this blog post so you can follow with more ease over the next few minutes.
Thursday: Citizen Cope Concert, Barra, Hot tub
Friday: We Will Rock You, Joel, Zeta, Alpha Phi, club
Saturday: Abbey Road, Wicked, Nick Wilson
So on Thursday we arrived and did a brief walking tour of the city. That night when we met up with some Notre Damers (including my favorite person in the world Matthew David Barra) we decided that we would drop 20 pounds to see Citizen Cope play a live show. Undoubtedly it was phenomenal, but after the show the rooks were seperated from the pros, and as the ND crew went home and passed out...Jack, Nick and I bought a bottle of vodka and pulled a "Larkin" by staying up til 6 in the morning ripping shots in the hot tub at our hostel.
Friday Jack and I toured the historic London Tower where lots of important people lived, and lots of important people had their heads removed by various sharp blades. Twas enlightening and exciting. If you care to hear more about that please let me know, I love talking about history. Anyways after that Jack and I caught the show We will rock you...it is a musical based on the greatest hits of Queen...I literally blew my load when the lead hit the high note in Somebody to Love...afterwards we bought a bottle of gin, killed it on our commute to the club and danced with the likes of Amy Harris, Nina, Sarah Lyons, and Joel Bentley as well as a strong contigency of A phis...due to transportation ignorance we arrived back at the hostel at roughly 530.
Saturday we went to Abbey Road with Nick's parents. After 74 tries we finally captured the perfect recreation of the Abbey Road album cover...I'll post it as soon as I get home. Then after a brief sightseeing tour, I went on a rogue mission and defied gravity...with no phone I was left to scour the streets of London until I found my friends. Due to a clever scavenger hunt Jack left me I was finally able to find them at club social...where Wilson and I proceeded to do our second reenactment of the day...Night at the Roxbury where Wilson uttered the quote of the trip...
Me: Yo let's go find some girls and give them hell...
Nick: Dude if we just dance well enough, the chicks will totally come to us.
One more successful weekend abroad.
Love Always,
D Moeller
P.S. I am going to take Jamie Garfinkle to an expensive sushi dinner tomorrow, and if that doesn't work I am going to renounce my faith and become a Jew.
Thursday: Citizen Cope Concert, Barra, Hot tub
Friday: We Will Rock You, Joel, Zeta, Alpha Phi, club
Saturday: Abbey Road, Wicked, Nick Wilson
So on Thursday we arrived and did a brief walking tour of the city. That night when we met up with some Notre Damers (including my favorite person in the world Matthew David Barra) we decided that we would drop 20 pounds to see Citizen Cope play a live show. Undoubtedly it was phenomenal, but after the show the rooks were seperated from the pros, and as the ND crew went home and passed out...Jack, Nick and I bought a bottle of vodka and pulled a "Larkin" by staying up til 6 in the morning ripping shots in the hot tub at our hostel.
Friday Jack and I toured the historic London Tower where lots of important people lived, and lots of important people had their heads removed by various sharp blades. Twas enlightening and exciting. If you care to hear more about that please let me know, I love talking about history. Anyways after that Jack and I caught the show We will rock you...it is a musical based on the greatest hits of Queen...I literally blew my load when the lead hit the high note in Somebody to Love...afterwards we bought a bottle of gin, killed it on our commute to the club and danced with the likes of Amy Harris, Nina, Sarah Lyons, and Joel Bentley as well as a strong contigency of A phis...due to transportation ignorance we arrived back at the hostel at roughly 530.
Saturday we went to Abbey Road with Nick's parents. After 74 tries we finally captured the perfect recreation of the Abbey Road album cover...I'll post it as soon as I get home. Then after a brief sightseeing tour, I went on a rogue mission and defied gravity...with no phone I was left to scour the streets of London until I found my friends. Due to a clever scavenger hunt Jack left me I was finally able to find them at club social...where Wilson and I proceeded to do our second reenactment of the day...Night at the Roxbury where Wilson uttered the quote of the trip...
Me: Yo let's go find some girls and give them hell...
Nick: Dude if we just dance well enough, the chicks will totally come to us.
One more successful weekend abroad.
Love Always,
D Moeller
P.S. I am going to take Jamie Garfinkle to an expensive sushi dinner tomorrow, and if that doesn't work I am going to renounce my faith and become a Jew.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
IUgossipgirl gives great dome
well maybe she does...in fact maybe I've gotten it? This mystery whore is totally cramping my style though right now...who does she think she is? D Moe girl edition? False. You know what I think would be better, if instead of talking in code she would come right out with things: this is what IU gossip girl would write... the "Rho" house got in trouble for hazing by Dean McKaig...I would write it something like this, AEpi is a bunch of yayo brained morons who are now gdi's...next time you might not want to throw shards of glass at Jonah Goldsteinberg.
Anyways, what I meant to tell you was Amsterdam was phenomenal...I will be periodically writing chapters on the blog. It is going to be a five act play Shakespearean style...today you get nothing but the table of contents, because I'm still fucking hammered, and I have a paper due in 20 minutes.
AMSTERDAM
an original story by david moeller
I. Planes, Trains, and Automobiles
II. I'm gonna write you a letter
III. Space: The final frontier
IV. Pink is my (second) favorite color (next to red)
V. The Beautiful Disaster
A brief lesson on story structure: The climax is act 3, the climax of a story is when the drama has reached its tipping point...the hero may not actually kill the villain in act 3...but he will decide he is going to.
I will post chapter 1 in the next few days, I love you all.
...relleom
P.S. I am in a frat...thoughts?
Anyways, what I meant to tell you was Amsterdam was phenomenal...I will be periodically writing chapters on the blog. It is going to be a five act play Shakespearean style...today you get nothing but the table of contents, because I'm still fucking hammered, and I have a paper due in 20 minutes.
AMSTERDAM
an original story by david moeller
I. Planes, Trains, and Automobiles
II. I'm gonna write you a letter
III. Space: The final frontier
IV. Pink is my (second) favorite color (next to red)
V. The Beautiful Disaster
A brief lesson on story structure: The climax is act 3, the climax of a story is when the drama has reached its tipping point...the hero may not actually kill the villain in act 3...but he will decide he is going to.
I will post chapter 1 in the next few days, I love you all.
...relleom
P.S. I am in a frat...thoughts?
Monday, March 3, 2008
Angels and Demons
I woke up on Sunday morning very hungover. Not surprising since I had spent the previous night with Taylor ripping about a baker's dozen Jager Bombs. It's not that I'm an alcoholic, more of a bargain shopper...and at 2 bucks a shot, that is difficult for anyone to refuse. So I decided that maybe what I needed was to seek divine intervention for my raging headache, so I took a brief stroll to St. Peter's Square, where Pope Benedict gave me a holy blessing in approximately 28 different languages, my favorite was his Swahili (Ghana dialect...yes there was clicking involved) So feeling refreshed I wandered about with my API Greek army (us, kappa, courtney) along to the Colliseum. As I walked through the massive structure, which totally got its architectural inspiration from all of our modern day sports arenas, I couldn't help but imagine how many people were brutally massacred in this unimpressive pit. Then I realized that strangely I was craving a re-enactment, so I tossed Larkin into the caverns below the stage and watched a boycat named Milo chase him around...cats are the only animals that still live in the basement of the Colliseum, no lions or tigers anymore. Needless to say Milo put up a good fight for a clawless boycat, but in the end Larkin unfortunately prevailed when he managed to toss Milo off some sort of rocky cliff, into an unknown abyss even further down the basement of the Colliseum. I like to think Milo landed on his two feet and is currently plotting revenge.
Other highlights of the weekend were Chase being robbed, Chase breaking several ribs of an "alledged robber," Pope John Paul II's tomb, the Pantheon, and the fact that when I got home from Rome...surprise Notre Dame just invaded Florence...Knoxy is here!
I can outwit these Irish fools,
Robert Langdon...
P.S. If Dan Brown doesn't burn something to the ground, bring home a Kilroy's bartender, or transform into some sort of animal tonight...I'm revoking your charter
Other highlights of the weekend were Chase being robbed, Chase breaking several ribs of an "alledged robber," Pope John Paul II's tomb, the Pantheon, and the fact that when I got home from Rome...surprise Notre Dame just invaded Florence...Knoxy is here!
I can outwit these Irish fools,
Robert Langdon...
P.S. If Dan Brown doesn't burn something to the ground, bring home a Kilroy's bartender, or transform into some sort of animal tonight...I'm revoking your charter
American Badass
I want to stray from my normal chronological and anecdotal writing style and let my Indiana friends in on one of the insights that I have gained since I have arrived in Europe. Americans are really sweet. As Anna, Ashley, Jack and I cruised around Firenze on our 100 cc motorscooters, still half hungover from the night before I saw the things that made Italians tick: aggressively driving smart cars, revving their motorcycle engines at red lights, and a huge chip on their shoulders. While as we aimlessly cruised through the hills of Tuscany conversations included but were not limited to: sunsets, our intended pre-game beverages, embarassing stories, jokes, and if Anna was indeed going to fall asleep at a bar for a second night in a row. Italians are jealous of America's happiness. I will compare Italy to the "friend" that is never really happy for you when something good happens, just eternally jealous. The reason that Italians are rude to Americans is simply envy. You think these guidos enjoy rocking their vespas and smart cars? No fuck that, they want to drive a 24 foot Suburban with a V12 Hemi that gives off enough emmission to melt Antartica by 2025. But because of the miserable set-up around Italy and a strange "go Green" movement, the hardest their "auto-cock" can get is 6 cylinders on an imported Ford Taurus. No F 150's over here I tell you, just a lot of little scooters and strange three wheeled cars that I treat similarly to pigeons, I kick them when they cross my path.
So if you ever feel like a hick because you are an American, just know that any Fabio you may cross on the street will gladly trade in his leather coat, tight jeans, and BMW 1 series for your Dodge Ram, a tin of Skoal, and an American Flag!
Ashley and Anna thanks for visiting you two are great...expect us to storm the beaches of Barcelona in early April! Da me tu Vespa!!!
Red White and Blue,
Sam Adams...
P.S. I just realized that if this blog ever reaches the masses, my political career could be short-lived
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Stumbling through life
Well since my last post, we have managed to go out every night, and I have blacked out 3 of 4. Monday night we skipped Montell Jordan and opted for some guido ass dj at a different club. This was also the night that I can honestly claim that I remember a majority of what happened. Tuesday against my better judgement I caved and decided to go out, and using the theory of "go hard or go home" Taylor and I split a bottle of 140 proof absinthe. Needless to say I don't remember wearing a white suit out and karaoking Backstreet Boys with Jack and Steve.
So after that little shit show, one would assume that we would take it easy on Wednesday night right? False. John thought this would be a fantastic night to go v.i.p. style. We bought two bottles at the club like we were fucking Long Island legends, we had two tables and ten sport coats. We are the envy of every tau alive! Tonight we will surely go out again, and sing our hearts out with the sheiks at karaoke night Michael Collins. Steve and I are going to request several selections from Wicked and Newsies. It should also be added that last night Chase broke his foot in a drunken stupor.
Last night for sure will make us famous, but then again everyone already knows about florence alpha. We treat our shitty little apartment like a fucking frat, and we bomb this city nightly like it is Btown, except our Kirkwood has thousand year old churches and what not.
For those of you wondering, the Kappas and Deltas are having fun too, and they consistently join us on our epic quests.
We travel to Rome this weekend so if you pull up CNN and read: College kid found dead of alcohol poisoning inside the Colliseum, you will know the culprits. Expect a fantastic blog Monday morning. Happy birthday Thunder!
Fyero...
P.S. I Think the next president of the frat should be Alex Konstantopolous
Monday, February 25, 2008
Chris the All American
It came to my attention earlier this week that I make a lot of hasty generalizations on this blog. Mainly, I have been pretty ruthless towards the east coasters, which is pretty calous considering one of my roommates is from the heartland of the east coast: Westchester, New York. Ladies and gentleman may I introduce Chris the all-american! Chris is our roommate from quaint Connecticut school Quinnipiac. And let me tell you Chris is much less like the long island stereotypical flat bill wearing, idiot that tries to act like he was the star of my new haircut. He is much more of the lovable and friendly person that has long made New York the most identifiable place in America. Not only does Chris have the best hair of everyone i our apartment he is by far and away the healthiest. He is often heard giving Hunter cooking tips, and how to make his chest rock hard so he will be ready for spring break! Chris is the only one of us that cared enough about his body to join a local gym while we are here, and he is never too shy to acost me for my frequent choice of fast food. In short, I would like to apologize to Chris for throwing him under the bus with the rest of the states east of Ohio, and I will make a concerted effort in the future to properly distinguish the people that made our country great vs. the people that make Europeans hate America.
So today Chris Kolman-Mandle, we salute you!
Thursday, February 21, 2008
2pac live in concert
I could have sworn that 2pac was for sure deceased, even if I did buy into the whole seven day theory when I was in middle school. I had accepted the fact, that he wasn't coming back...but then sure enough last night an entourage of urban young men started busting out the lyrics to California Love and then they reveal Tupac Shakur..."out on bail fresh out of jail california dreamin..." O no wait, that was Young Joc. In the two hours he pranced around stage pushing his new album and pouring grey goose on the jungle fever bims in the front row, he managed to sing one original composition...It's going down (Which was probably ghost written by a very white, very nerdy, ivy league educated man named Richard)
All in all though the concert was a good time. I got everything I came to see, sweaty east coast guys, and a lot of east coast cleavage...everyone wanted to be the lucky girl that Mr. Joc invited back to his trailer.
Karaoke in three hours...I have to warm up the vocals...
a special thank you to Jack for doing my real world video, you guys can look forward to watching me next season in Real World: Topeka...Jack has also submitted the video to Cannes Film Festival under the category, Humorous Short...so expect us to kick in Entourage style in the South of France this summer.
Stay strong friends,
Dave
p.s. I don't really miss you guys that much...I would like to but we're having so much fun that the thought of all of you guys back home and miserable just sort of slips our minds
All in all though the concert was a good time. I got everything I came to see, sweaty east coast guys, and a lot of east coast cleavage...everyone wanted to be the lucky girl that Mr. Joc invited back to his trailer.
Karaoke in three hours...I have to warm up the vocals...
a special thank you to Jack for doing my real world video, you guys can look forward to watching me next season in Real World: Topeka...Jack has also submitted the video to Cannes Film Festival under the category, Humorous Short...so expect us to kick in Entourage style in the South of France this summer.
Stay strong friends,
Dave
p.s. I don't really miss you guys that much...I would like to but we're having so much fun that the thought of all of you guys back home and miserable just sort of slips our minds
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Yo bro, I got a table tonight
So Young Joc is coming to town and every asswipe east of cincinatti thinks that he is going to be the man by purchasing a table at tonight's events. So let me make a couple of things clear right off the bat:
1. Young Joc is fucking lame.
B. Buying a bottle with your boys who are all wearing sport coats and all have oversized noses may get you laid, but by similarly big nosed, insecure, whores.
III. I want the east coast to sink.
Delta. I miss Kilroy's.
Now that you have a loose basis for what I'm feeling, let me tell you what I'm dealing with. The bridge and tunnel trash here don't know how to converse with others. They simply lounge around at their table and watch the jersey chasing sluts come and go. Once in a while they will buy another bottle with their father's Bank of America credit card...god forbid they just conform and go Chase...but they won't dance, oh no, then they would have to abandon the "table" that they had sacrificed so much for. (And they think its cool to be friends with promoters and club managers...jesus, talk about the lowest life form in the world. Someone who makes a career working for bars, is someone who votes democrat because they are direct beneficiaries of Welfare.)
Meanwhile...20 feet away is a gross and sweaty group of IU guys who have been on the dance floor for three hours strait, and are most likely tonsils deep on some cute girl whose family would survive a nuclear attack on the east coast (Is that joke too hard for you to understand?) But the "Wannabe Taus" are still looking really hard posted at their table, drinking shots of absolut...can you believe that shit? Who gets a bottle of absolut...if you are going to get a bottle at least get goose! Maybe I'll buy a bottle of smirnoff tonight...I probably won't even ask for a table...maybe my own bench, thats all you deserve for drinking mediocre vodka at a club.
The thing is, if I was at Kilroy's I could cockslap any of these assholes and get away with it, because I'm a totally sweet frat guy, and they are...well I don't want to offend Kamhi so let's just say that they are really big jokes. But for some reason, douchebaggery is like the thing to do here in Florence, so the flatbill wearing, iced up, "chain hang low" degenerates are actually the majority here. I stick to my tight knit group of midwestern Greeks and those that we deam acceptable to hang out with.
An example of what one may see here on a given night: An overweight and overbearing New Yorker removed his shirt at a dance club, it was a scarring image. However, he had purchased a table early in the night and was walking around with a bottle of Absolut. Henceforth, a pack of girls from Jersey that totally claim "the city" followed him around like he was the fucking pied piper the rest of the night.
It's not cool to spend money at clubs...its cool to sneak in your own booze so after hours of dancing, you can sneak into the bathroom and chug some vodka Marissa style (that's an OC joke) and go back to the dance floor in the blacked out state that you were previously in.
These kids can piss me off as much as they want, but I'll always have this on them: ambition, a future, and parents that love me and eachother. So fuck you to everyone with an accent, and don't call me "bro."
Sorry for my anger,
Average Joe...
P.S. Someone call my mom and tell her I need some more money...because I'm buying a table and some bottles tonight.
1. Young Joc is fucking lame.
B. Buying a bottle with your boys who are all wearing sport coats and all have oversized noses may get you laid, but by similarly big nosed, insecure, whores.
III. I want the east coast to sink.
Delta. I miss Kilroy's.
Now that you have a loose basis for what I'm feeling, let me tell you what I'm dealing with. The bridge and tunnel trash here don't know how to converse with others. They simply lounge around at their table and watch the jersey chasing sluts come and go. Once in a while they will buy another bottle with their father's Bank of America credit card...god forbid they just conform and go Chase...but they won't dance, oh no, then they would have to abandon the "table" that they had sacrificed so much for. (And they think its cool to be friends with promoters and club managers...jesus, talk about the lowest life form in the world. Someone who makes a career working for bars, is someone who votes democrat because they are direct beneficiaries of Welfare.)
Meanwhile...20 feet away is a gross and sweaty group of IU guys who have been on the dance floor for three hours strait, and are most likely tonsils deep on some cute girl whose family would survive a nuclear attack on the east coast (Is that joke too hard for you to understand?) But the "Wannabe Taus" are still looking really hard posted at their table, drinking shots of absolut...can you believe that shit? Who gets a bottle of absolut...if you are going to get a bottle at least get goose! Maybe I'll buy a bottle of smirnoff tonight...I probably won't even ask for a table...maybe my own bench, thats all you deserve for drinking mediocre vodka at a club.
The thing is, if I was at Kilroy's I could cockslap any of these assholes and get away with it, because I'm a totally sweet frat guy, and they are...well I don't want to offend Kamhi so let's just say that they are really big jokes. But for some reason, douchebaggery is like the thing to do here in Florence, so the flatbill wearing, iced up, "chain hang low" degenerates are actually the majority here. I stick to my tight knit group of midwestern Greeks and those that we deam acceptable to hang out with.
An example of what one may see here on a given night: An overweight and overbearing New Yorker removed his shirt at a dance club, it was a scarring image. However, he had purchased a table early in the night and was walking around with a bottle of Absolut. Henceforth, a pack of girls from Jersey that totally claim "the city" followed him around like he was the fucking pied piper the rest of the night.
It's not cool to spend money at clubs...its cool to sneak in your own booze so after hours of dancing, you can sneak into the bathroom and chug some vodka Marissa style (that's an OC joke) and go back to the dance floor in the blacked out state that you were previously in.
These kids can piss me off as much as they want, but I'll always have this on them: ambition, a future, and parents that love me and eachother. So fuck you to everyone with an accent, and don't call me "bro."
Sorry for my anger,
Average Joe...
P.S. Someone call my mom and tell her I need some more money...because I'm buying a table and some bottles tonight.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Larkin's Revenge
A quick update on Philip Morris' number one supporter.
Remember the days when Larkin was content to sit in room 3 all day smoking nothing but...cigarettes? Me neither, because since our arrival to Florence, Larkin has been tearing up the city to tiny pieces. He routinely stays up until 7 am, and he has been no stranger to earning multiple bottles of wine to his dome. Larkin is also not afraid to stray from the group. Maybe Larkin doesn't have a strong sense of smell, but as of late he has shown a keen sense of party, and he regularly ends up at the biggest one. Ryan steals the show on a multitude of levels. Had you seen Mr. Ryan L in Milan you would give him a standing ovation.
So please rise,
and salute Larkybear!!!
P.S. I bet that even though McKerr is now cool...he is dwarfed in awesomeness by Jeff Fraser.
Remember the days when Larkin was content to sit in room 3 all day smoking nothing but...cigarettes? Me neither, because since our arrival to Florence, Larkin has been tearing up the city to tiny pieces. He routinely stays up until 7 am, and he has been no stranger to earning multiple bottles of wine to his dome. Larkin is also not afraid to stray from the group. Maybe Larkin doesn't have a strong sense of smell, but as of late he has shown a keen sense of party, and he regularly ends up at the biggest one. Ryan steals the show on a multitude of levels. Had you seen Mr. Ryan L in Milan you would give him a standing ovation.
So please rise,
and salute Larkybear!!!
P.S. I bet that even though McKerr is now cool...he is dwarfed in awesomeness by Jeff Fraser.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Living Legends
No Carl, I haven't retired from the blog...I have just been too drunk to add to it lately. Anyways...happy valentines day, why is it that as a single male I always have awesome valentines days? The answer is IU sorority girls. Thursday night we had a wild dinner party with Tri Delt, and after Mr. Potts, and Ms. Fischer cooked us a lovely 4 course meal we proceeded to get destroyed. After a long 20 person game of survivor flip cup, we discovered who the true alpha male of the group was. (Me) The Jager was then consumed an we made a mass exodus to a club. Potts dropped his broke ass v.i.p. card, and I ended up passing out on a couch in the smoooooker's lounge (Thayer hood dialect)
Early the next morning I roused half of the team for our brunch with the sheiks. After crushing 17 french toasts, I decided the group should head to Vie Sole for the day. It is a picturesque town on a hill that overlooks Florence. Upon our arrival we scaled our way to the summit and hung out in an elementary school park drinking beers. We then toured several cool churches and a monestary. All culture out of the way we decided to have one or two pints at an irish pub called jj hill. 4 hours later we were obnoxiously playing frat drinking games such as zoomy. About a 300 euro tab later, we decided that we should head to our next bar which was located in downtown florence. Needless to say the bus ride there was full of disney songs, and showtunes. When we arrived we noticed strange hooded figures with candles...so we decided to join a full fledged protest. None of us knew what we were protesting, but we were pissed and passionate about the issue. Finally around 11 pm, we decided to go to the Michael Collins pub...there we dscovered a 60's cover band full of beatles, the who, and rolling stones hits. Larkin would have loved it, but he decided not to go that night because he was "fuckin' tired." After bar number 3, Mallory and I set off for some gelato but could only find bar number 4.
***
(That means passage of time for those of you who aren't well read)
I woke up at 545 am...realizing I had only been asleep for 2 hours. Our bus to Milan was leaving in 15 minutes, in a semi conscious state I packed my bags and the entire team minus Potts and Jack set off for the fashion capitol of the world. Needless to say we were all miserable. Upon arriving in Milan we went on a half assed tour of a castle full of cats and some church with spikes all over it. I met up with Amy H and spent the rest of my day shopping at H and M and Zara...I bought a cool hat...my roommates do not like it.
We loaded up a bus to go to the middle of nowhere at about 6 and at 8 we started drinking our three bottles of scotch, then we went to the hotel bar with intentions of blacking out. John succeeded and attempted to buy a bottle. The API staff wasn't pleased.
The next day we spent touring cheese factories and slaughterhouses of pigs, wine was served at both of those places, and I took full advantage...we went on a tour of Parma, discovered a heroin den, and watched two dogs have sex in a park. I tried my first cappuccino...it was delicious.
All in all, it was a great four days. I heard IU finally won a game, great news! I'll update you guys soon.
I need a shower,
Your favorite Aryan...
P.S. Biff I earn it hourly
Early the next morning I roused half of the team for our brunch with the sheiks. After crushing 17 french toasts, I decided the group should head to Vie Sole for the day. It is a picturesque town on a hill that overlooks Florence. Upon our arrival we scaled our way to the summit and hung out in an elementary school park drinking beers. We then toured several cool churches and a monestary. All culture out of the way we decided to have one or two pints at an irish pub called jj hill. 4 hours later we were obnoxiously playing frat drinking games such as zoomy. About a 300 euro tab later, we decided that we should head to our next bar which was located in downtown florence. Needless to say the bus ride there was full of disney songs, and showtunes. When we arrived we noticed strange hooded figures with candles...so we decided to join a full fledged protest. None of us knew what we were protesting, but we were pissed and passionate about the issue. Finally around 11 pm, we decided to go to the Michael Collins pub...there we dscovered a 60's cover band full of beatles, the who, and rolling stones hits. Larkin would have loved it, but he decided not to go that night because he was "fuckin' tired." After bar number 3, Mallory and I set off for some gelato but could only find bar number 4.
***
(That means passage of time for those of you who aren't well read)
I woke up at 545 am...realizing I had only been asleep for 2 hours. Our bus to Milan was leaving in 15 minutes, in a semi conscious state I packed my bags and the entire team minus Potts and Jack set off for the fashion capitol of the world. Needless to say we were all miserable. Upon arriving in Milan we went on a half assed tour of a castle full of cats and some church with spikes all over it. I met up with Amy H and spent the rest of my day shopping at H and M and Zara...I bought a cool hat...my roommates do not like it.
We loaded up a bus to go to the middle of nowhere at about 6 and at 8 we started drinking our three bottles of scotch, then we went to the hotel bar with intentions of blacking out. John succeeded and attempted to buy a bottle. The API staff wasn't pleased.
The next day we spent touring cheese factories and slaughterhouses of pigs, wine was served at both of those places, and I took full advantage...we went on a tour of Parma, discovered a heroin den, and watched two dogs have sex in a park. I tried my first cappuccino...it was delicious.
All in all, it was a great four days. I heard IU finally won a game, great news! I'll update you guys soon.
I need a shower,
Your favorite Aryan...
P.S. Biff I earn it hourly
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
What Would Kozik Do?
I found myself with an interesting decision to make last night. The other 9 roommates had decided to take it easy in lieu of a difficult class schedule the next day. It would have made sense for me to do the same. However, Courtney called and asked if I wanted to go pregame with her friends...I sighed, and then upon looking down at my WWKD bracelet, I knew it was game time. After a thirty minute walk and some intense flipcup I was feeling absolutely...sober. We were planning on going to some club which required one to be absolutely black out. At this point between all the waiting for more alcohol, and dealing with some ass clown who kept turning off our Kilroys favorites...(Seriously this mega deush turned off 2 Phil Collins songs, How can we be lovers, summer of 69, and wake me up before you gogo in favor of a bunch of T-Pain! What A raging GDI!!) Anyway...I was ready to leave. things were looking bleak...but once again I looked at my WWKD bracelet, and realized that eric would probably hang in there. I then got on Shana's computer and reminded sty that he was no longer an undergrad, and he didn't fit-in out in L.A. he had no clever response, it was a great feeling. haha. Anyways DJ Giddy finally showed up with some vodka, which Courtney, me, and Amanda polished off in a matter of 109 seconds. We then proceeded to the club where I was nearly violently thrown out for attempting to pay for drinks with a fraudulent drink card. I recovered. I befriended some sort of VIP and was dancing on couches when I saw a particularly sexy girl dancing in the corner. Needless to say I took one look at my bracelet...
...after a few hours I realized that eveeryone was gone, and I was hammered, so I walked home alone, picked up some gelatto (ice cream) then I read two chapters of Freakanomics. (It is almost as much fun as listening to Wicked at 5 am)
Breaking News: I Found the Scully! She was being accosted by a dark skinned man presumably named something strange that will hurt him later in life (See Freakanomics chapter 6: A Roshanda by Any other name) I saved the day by simultaneously keeping hoards of minorities from attacking young danielle and her roommates...I hate all of the non-americans here!
"Italy where creeping is not only socially acceptable, but encouraged!"
Breaking News part 2:
I dropped my boring ass communication class and I am not in 1960's: A counter culture
or A class about pot that will really interest Larkin.
Ok enough, I'm going to go get a beef sandwhich!
Matt Kamhi isn't worthy of the late January birthday bash,
Joe Massa...
p.s. Everyone be extra nice to Dan in the coming weeks, he has some hard tests and no friends to get him through it.
...after a few hours I realized that eveeryone was gone, and I was hammered, so I walked home alone, picked up some gelatto (ice cream) then I read two chapters of Freakanomics. (It is almost as much fun as listening to Wicked at 5 am)
Breaking News: I Found the Scully! She was being accosted by a dark skinned man presumably named something strange that will hurt him later in life (See Freakanomics chapter 6: A Roshanda by Any other name) I saved the day by simultaneously keeping hoards of minorities from attacking young danielle and her roommates...I hate all of the non-americans here!
"Italy where creeping is not only socially acceptable, but encouraged!"
Breaking News part 2:
I dropped my boring ass communication class and I am not in 1960's: A counter culture
or A class about pot that will really interest Larkin.
Ok enough, I'm going to go get a beef sandwhich!
Matt Kamhi isn't worthy of the late January birthday bash,
Joe Massa...
p.s. Everyone be extra nice to Dan in the coming weeks, he has some hard tests and no friends to get him through it.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Almost Phamous
Just got back from Switzerland and I have decided that it is absolutely my favorite place in the world. It is a beautiful country with beautiful people. Not to often do you wake up in the morning and wee the largest moutain range in the world surrounding you. When I'm here in Florence I wake up to rain clouds and a bunch of glorified Mexicans. I've never been prouder to be German. Anyways, the slopes were great, and the trip turned out to be more or less a 24 hour 5 person date with Jack, myself, and three of the Kappas. The girls (well Kirsten and Katherine...sorry Jamie) were way better than us at skiing which was slightly embarssing, but at the same time totally awesome. And for those of you who are turned on by my failures, you will delighted to hear that Jack has some footage of me taking an epic spill. I promise it was my only fall of the day, and other than that I am a world class skier. To put into words the landscapes we saw on the slopes would be impossible. I took a thousand pictures and several "bomb" videos, but you just won't get it until you go there.
Our Hostel was nothing short of incredible. It had a fucking dance club in the basement, and a rather cheap happy hour from 6-10, that allowed us to get plenty drunk before dinner both nights. Friday night we were the obnoxious Americans at a nice restaraunt...and Saturday we went for fondu with our ski crew, and were racially profiled by a bunch of Asians. It is a weird feeling to be a white, conservative, protestant and be stereotyped. Thats like picking Michael Jordan last in street ball...but seriously it was very strange. We were hidden in the back so we couldn't be seen by the other patrons.
We spent our nights getting scummy listening to jazz at the other Hostel where all the attractive people were staying. I think there was a questionaire for our Hostel and if you wrote down the keywords: midwest, in shape, easy going, or conscious of appearance you were instantly denied...needless to stay, we didn't spend much time at the basement night club.
Trip wrap up: I skied the alps, didnt sky dive...but I will some day. Jack and I are officially famous for being the guys that missed the van, but said "Fuck it" and took a train to Interlaken. The only way to travel, is to wing it last minute. The roomies at home did a whole lot of nothing, unless you consider looking at a tower that leans something. I'm kididng the guys had a blast and John blacked out and bought a bottle...Frat.
Switzerland is more perfect than Massa's relationship with Lisa. I have a new found appreciation for the Swiss and the color red. Next week we travel to Milan, and apparently you losers travel to Indy...say hello to the ferret for me.
Gallagher, Krivacs, and Saucy studied abroad somewhere lame,
fratERN ITy...
P.S. We are watching little 5 at a bar here with the sheiks...please send us pair shirts
Our Hostel was nothing short of incredible. It had a fucking dance club in the basement, and a rather cheap happy hour from 6-10, that allowed us to get plenty drunk before dinner both nights. Friday night we were the obnoxious Americans at a nice restaraunt...and Saturday we went for fondu with our ski crew, and were racially profiled by a bunch of Asians. It is a weird feeling to be a white, conservative, protestant and be stereotyped. Thats like picking Michael Jordan last in street ball...but seriously it was very strange. We were hidden in the back so we couldn't be seen by the other patrons.
We spent our nights getting scummy listening to jazz at the other Hostel where all the attractive people were staying. I think there was a questionaire for our Hostel and if you wrote down the keywords: midwest, in shape, easy going, or conscious of appearance you were instantly denied...needless to stay, we didn't spend much time at the basement night club.
Trip wrap up: I skied the alps, didnt sky dive...but I will some day. Jack and I are officially famous for being the guys that missed the van, but said "Fuck it" and took a train to Interlaken. The only way to travel, is to wing it last minute. The roomies at home did a whole lot of nothing, unless you consider looking at a tower that leans something. I'm kididng the guys had a blast and John blacked out and bought a bottle...Frat.
Switzerland is more perfect than Massa's relationship with Lisa. I have a new found appreciation for the Swiss and the color red. Next week we travel to Milan, and apparently you losers travel to Indy...say hello to the ferret for me.
Gallagher, Krivacs, and Saucy studied abroad somewhere lame,
fratERN ITy...
P.S. We are watching little 5 at a bar here with the sheiks...please send us pair shirts
Friday, February 8, 2008
30 cents a minute
Cheers from Interlakken, Switzerland. Jack and I have made the trek from italy to the alps...everyone else as you can imagine is probably taking a nap or doing some other lame ass activity. The sheiks and the deltas are here as well, and we all plan to conquer the mountains tomorrow. In the time being Jack and I have been feigning wealth by looking at multi thousand dollar watches and hugo boss sport coats. The ratio here is 99 girls to one guy. Things might be looking good for our struggling protagonist. Also I would like to add that Jack and I are sharing a cubicle of a room...maybe 20 square feet.
More detailed explanations of our travels to come...look at the fucking title.
FRAT FRAT FRAT...
p.s. I am more euro than kanye
More detailed explanations of our travels to come...look at the fucking title.
FRAT FRAT FRAT...
p.s. I am more euro than kanye
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Super Thursday
No there aren't any primaries today, but there is going to be one hell of a binge...I have had 11 hours of class today and I am planning on treating myself to a kick in the liver. So what has happened since the super bowl?
Well class started and that sucked, and I believe I am on day 20 of drinking, and almost out of money. Larkin and Hunter got in the ultimate scrap last night and it was a pretty even fight. Perhaps we should set that up as a PPV philo next year.
We still don't have internet in our place, but we learned how to cook barbeque chicken, so its all good...we spend all of our free time drinking anyways.
We invented a new cigarette butt tossing game...we basically shoot for an ashtray thats roughly 15 feet away. I am horrible, Larkin is pretty solid.
We might go to Interlochen Switzerland this weekend...and if we do I think I may jump out of an airplane over the swiss alps, or perhaps ski down the mountains...o you're thinking about going to happy hour and just staying all night? COOL you definetly trump my weekend...false.
As sweet as it is here, you are all dearly missed. Today I actually had a strange craving for a creepy stare from a special someone. I'm also quite sure that my Hero skills have gone to shit. Very unfortunate. I'm reading a new book called Freakanomics, if you havent read it yet, go pick it up. If you are a Spean however, I don't expect you to be able to read, let alone want to.
Sorry for that, that was uncalled for,
Arrogant American with false sense of entitlement...
P.S. I never want to meet another male with a first name ending in O
Well class started and that sucked, and I believe I am on day 20 of drinking, and almost out of money. Larkin and Hunter got in the ultimate scrap last night and it was a pretty even fight. Perhaps we should set that up as a PPV philo next year.
We still don't have internet in our place, but we learned how to cook barbeque chicken, so its all good...we spend all of our free time drinking anyways.
We invented a new cigarette butt tossing game...we basically shoot for an ashtray thats roughly 15 feet away. I am horrible, Larkin is pretty solid.
We might go to Interlochen Switzerland this weekend...and if we do I think I may jump out of an airplane over the swiss alps, or perhaps ski down the mountains...o you're thinking about going to happy hour and just staying all night? COOL you definetly trump my weekend...false.
As sweet as it is here, you are all dearly missed. Today I actually had a strange craving for a creepy stare from a special someone. I'm also quite sure that my Hero skills have gone to shit. Very unfortunate. I'm reading a new book called Freakanomics, if you havent read it yet, go pick it up. If you are a Spean however, I don't expect you to be able to read, let alone want to.
Sorry for that, that was uncalled for,
Arrogant American with false sense of entitlement...
P.S. I never want to meet another male with a first name ending in O
Monday, February 4, 2008
Bridge and tunnel trash...and Tara Reid
Congratulations to the New York Giants. I hate the patriots with all my heart and nothing felt better than seeing Brady and Billicheck fail. I went with my roommate Chris to a club (as usual the rest of the crew was acting cowardly) to watch the big game. There were more white v necks than a Thursday at Sports. As much as I wanted the Giants to win, I wanted to vomit on every Long Islander there. But I would rather see some punk named "Vinny" happy than see that shit eating grin on Tom Brady's face.
Anyways, Tara Reid was there, popping more Xanex than King McKerr himself. It was an interesting scene. I don't think she'll ever be famous again. She looks like a brtiney spears, Paris Hilton hybrid on her worst day.
Class just started...very interesting, my teacher told us today that we didnt have to come to class if we were hungover...just practice more on our own. Fabulous.
We enjoy your comments, and curiosity about our adventure here. Keep Btown fratty.
Peace
-Moeller
P.S. Ami, Mandy and Sarah are goddesses for making me birthday vidoes on facebook.
Anyways, Tara Reid was there, popping more Xanex than King McKerr himself. It was an interesting scene. I don't think she'll ever be famous again. She looks like a brtiney spears, Paris Hilton hybrid on her worst day.
Class just started...very interesting, my teacher told us today that we didnt have to come to class if we were hungover...just practice more on our own. Fabulous.
We enjoy your comments, and curiosity about our adventure here. Keep Btown fratty.
Peace
-Moeller
P.S. Ami, Mandy and Sarah are goddesses for making me birthday vidoes on facebook.
40 mg of ambition
10:30 A.M. We woke up and showered. The night before everyone had been pumped to go to Venice. But soon, the usual suspects started dropping out like flies. The cowards were Steve, Larkybear, Coy, Chos, Chris, and Mark. This left me, Frank Cappuccino (hunter), Jack, and John.
11:30 A.M. Jack buys ticket for 1135 train. Language barrier takes Jack for 34 Euro...never gets ticket.
12:30 P.M. We board train for Venice, we are super pumped. Italian girl next to us listens to death metal the whole way...volume loud.
3:30 P.M. We arrived in Venice and it was simply breath taking. It really looks exactly like it does in the movies. No roads, no cars. Just lots of alleys and canals. Very crowded, strange masks everywhere. We begin the long journey to San Marco square...where the party is raging harder than a phi psi courtyard during little 5.
4:30 P.M. We make contact with Amy Harris (an iu zta) we proceed to find a Liquor store. I purchase a bottle of wine, and a bottle of Champagne. I lose all the other guys.
4:34 P.M. I finish my first bottle of wine.
4:52 P.M. I find Jack and the rest of the guys. I finish my bottle of champagne.
6:00 P.M. It begins to rain, the crew and I decided to go get dinner at a local pizzeria. During the course of dinner we all consume a large cheese pizza and four liters of wine.
8:15 P.M. That was a long dinner...pill up son...
8:30 P.M. Jack and Hunter purchase a bottle of liquer called the "drink of Venice" a techno driven pyrotechnics show goes on in the square...I feel lost beneath my mask. I am deep in a black out right now...
1:00 A.M. I realize that I am lost and in a bar alone. I find Jack and Kelly...very lucky. I stumble around the square and find the rest of my clan...there is no one else left.
2:00 A.M. we have now been stumbling around a plaza drinking sangrea for quite some time and we have heard rumors of a 310 train to Yuma...I mean florence. We start towards the train station. But on the way we stop for cigarettes and another bottle of that drink of Venice stuff...bad idea.
3:00 A.M. The train didnt really exist...Hunter and I have decided that we will smoke cigarettes until 530, when the next train arrives.
530 AM we hop on a train to Florence and weasel our way into first class...we order one more beer for the train ride.
830 AM we arrive back in Florence and catch a cab back to the condo.
10:00 P.M. I wake up, hungover, make myself some chicken teryaki. The super bowl starts in 2 hours...Fuck
11:30 A.M. Jack buys ticket for 1135 train. Language barrier takes Jack for 34 Euro...never gets ticket.
12:30 P.M. We board train for Venice, we are super pumped. Italian girl next to us listens to death metal the whole way...volume loud.
3:30 P.M. We arrived in Venice and it was simply breath taking. It really looks exactly like it does in the movies. No roads, no cars. Just lots of alleys and canals. Very crowded, strange masks everywhere. We begin the long journey to San Marco square...where the party is raging harder than a phi psi courtyard during little 5.
4:30 P.M. We make contact with Amy Harris (an iu zta) we proceed to find a Liquor store. I purchase a bottle of wine, and a bottle of Champagne. I lose all the other guys.
4:34 P.M. I finish my first bottle of wine.
4:52 P.M. I find Jack and the rest of the guys. I finish my bottle of champagne.
6:00 P.M. It begins to rain, the crew and I decided to go get dinner at a local pizzeria. During the course of dinner we all consume a large cheese pizza and four liters of wine.
8:15 P.M. That was a long dinner...pill up son...
8:30 P.M. Jack and Hunter purchase a bottle of liquer called the "drink of Venice" a techno driven pyrotechnics show goes on in the square...I feel lost beneath my mask. I am deep in a black out right now...
1:00 A.M. I realize that I am lost and in a bar alone. I find Jack and Kelly...very lucky. I stumble around the square and find the rest of my clan...there is no one else left.
2:00 A.M. we have now been stumbling around a plaza drinking sangrea for quite some time and we have heard rumors of a 310 train to Yuma...I mean florence. We start towards the train station. But on the way we stop for cigarettes and another bottle of that drink of Venice stuff...bad idea.
3:00 A.M. The train didnt really exist...Hunter and I have decided that we will smoke cigarettes until 530, when the next train arrives.
530 AM we hop on a train to Florence and weasel our way into first class...we order one more beer for the train ride.
830 AM we arrive back in Florence and catch a cab back to the condo.
10:00 P.M. I wake up, hungover, make myself some chicken teryaki. The super bowl starts in 2 hours...Fuck
Friday, February 1, 2008
Game time
I sit underground in the Florence train station right now surrounded by a crew of nafarious characters, yet I chuckle because this weekend we have in store is going to be quite the ambitious venture.
Last night Jack and I were aimlessly wandering around an American night club and I was greeted by the most stereotypical Smallwood resident imaginable. He reckognizes me (obviously) as a prominent member of the IU Greek system. I emptily exchanged pleasantries with the stranger, until he said something of extreme interest to me. He was in the Wells program, and he was at the bar with a bunch of IU girls from "some sorority"...needless to say I quickly stormed off without so much as good-bye, and found Molly and Chelsea already manipulating poor Italian males into buying bottles of Grey Goose. Now that the rest of Courtney's smokin' hot friends have arrived...we fully intend to dominate Florence harder than Kozik and Marco do on a Thursday at roys.
Furthermore, I decided on a whim to go to Venice on Saturday night. It is their "carnivale" (imagine the scene from The Counte of Monte Cristo) so obviously I must go. Apparently all the hotels and hostels are booked up already. But that isn't anything a little adderall and ambition can't cure. 6 am train into town on Saturday, 6 am out of town on Sunday...nap time and then super bowl. Well gents everyone wish Kamhi a happy birthday for me, and tell him that I forgive him for all the times he wronged me.
We still say "Thaaaaaayerrr Hooooooood,"
-Frat A Team
Last night Jack and I were aimlessly wandering around an American night club and I was greeted by the most stereotypical Smallwood resident imaginable. He reckognizes me (obviously) as a prominent member of the IU Greek system. I emptily exchanged pleasantries with the stranger, until he said something of extreme interest to me. He was in the Wells program, and he was at the bar with a bunch of IU girls from "some sorority"...needless to say I quickly stormed off without so much as good-bye, and found Molly and Chelsea already manipulating poor Italian males into buying bottles of Grey Goose. Now that the rest of Courtney's smokin' hot friends have arrived...we fully intend to dominate Florence harder than Kozik and Marco do on a Thursday at roys.
Furthermore, I decided on a whim to go to Venice on Saturday night. It is their "carnivale" (imagine the scene from The Counte of Monte Cristo) so obviously I must go. Apparently all the hotels and hostels are booked up already. But that isn't anything a little adderall and ambition can't cure. 6 am train into town on Saturday, 6 am out of town on Sunday...nap time and then super bowl. Well gents everyone wish Kamhi a happy birthday for me, and tell him that I forgive him for all the times he wronged me.
We still say "Thaaaaaayerrr Hooooooood,"
-Frat A Team
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