We Go To College

What is Sports?

2010-04-21T18:18:00.000-07:00

Perry doesn't know anything about sports. Well, that's not entirely true. He doesn't know anything about mainstream sports--basketball, baseball, football, hockey, soccer, etc... The sports that pretty much every American knows at least something about, he knows nothing about.

As a kid he randomly decided to become an expert in three sports and focus his attention entirely on them: sailing, karate, and skiing. The kid can out sail, out karate chop, and out ski anyone. Which is very awesome. Unfortunately those sports are very niche sports, and they don't get broadcasted on TV all too often. You don't see people hanging out in bars or dorm rooms, huddled around the TV watching The Karate Kid, I don't think I've ever even seen sailing on TV, and knowledge of skiing only comes in handy every four years, during the Winter Olympics. People--especially guys--watch mainstream sports together to bond and chit chat about certain players, good plays, etc... Perry couldn't do this, but he would sure try. His typical game-time commentary went something like this:

Basketball while watching the Utah Jazz play the Phoenix Suns. The score ticker lists Jazz: 40, Suns: 35.
Perry: Yo dude, I thought you wanted to watch the Utah game. What's this Jazzy Sun shit?
Me: This is the Utah game. Their name is the Utah Jazz.
Perry: Ohhhhh ok. I've been confused for the last half hours, since you kept saying things about Utah. I'll remember to write that down.

Baseball
Perry: So this is the one where the guy on the hill throws the ball at the guy with the stick and the guy with the stick tries to bash it back into the guy on the hill's face?

Football
Perry: This is sport dumb. If I wanted to see a bunch of dudes beat the shit out of each other I'd just watch my karate videos. Plus, martial artists don't wear pads. These guys are pad and helmet wearing pussies.

Basketball after being explained how the game is played.
Perry: Ohhhhh ok ok, I see. So it's basically a lot like quidich in Harry Potter, except these are grown men, there's no flying, and no brooms ... gotcha.

Hockey
Perry: Is this the one where they fight? When will they fight? I want to see them fight. Wait, why am I waiting for them to fight when I could just watch my kung-fu DVDs? I'm going to go watch my kung-fu DVDs.

Baseball:
Perry: Dude, if I was one of these players, I'd just take a bunch of steroids so I could hit the shit out of the ball.
Me: Ya man, good idea. Lot's of them do that, or did that, and got tons of homeruns.
Perry: OK, this sport isn't so bad.

Soccer:
Perry: This sport would be so much sweeter if they combined it with bull fighting. Like, why don't they throw like 6 bulls onto the playing field and paint the ball red. Now THAT would be a sport.

Submitted by F.J. (not the one from before)/I Am A Dog

2010-04-07T19:02:00.001-07:00

I think I posted something about study abroad a few months ago. Here's a great story submitted by F.J. about a night he was abroad:

Because I started kindergarten a year early, I’ve always been about year younger than most of my peers. When I began my junior year of college, most of my friends were 21 or about to turn 21. I was still 19. That made it difficult to join the migration from campus dorms and frat houses to city bars and clubs. I didn’t have a fake license and there was no way my young face was going to fool any bouncer or bartender.

But I had a plan. I would leave the United States for a land of liquored liberty. I would travel to London Town, where anyone over 18 can grab a pint without the slightest fuss. My excuse to relocate? A study abroad program, of course.

It was great. My new friends and I regularly visited the local pubs, where I discovered the joys of British ales and ciders. Sometimes, we would just grab booze from a corner store and drink in the dorms — or ‘halls’ as they called them. I celebrated part of my 20^th birthday at the pub, part of it in halls. The latter half of the festivities terrified countless innocents and changed me forever.

Everything started out so civilized: pleasant conversation, a piece of cake, a little wine. But the bottles emptied swiftly. We reached for something stronger. The room began to spin. I underwent a transformation I will never forget (except for the memories alcohol washed away).

You know that Kafka novel in which the main character wakes up one morning to find he’s metamorphosized into a monstrous vermin? Well it was kind of like that. Except I didn’t turn into a giant bug. I turned into a dog.

I was on all fours, barking and yelping at anyone who came too close. I would scoot under a table and leap out at intruders, teeth bared. If I found myself cornered, I might dash out of the room into the hallway, as a group of concerned — but laughing — friends tried to keep up.

It was all fun and games at first. Like playing with a new puppy. But my behavior became progressively less Labrador, more Rottweiler.

Something possessed me to single out one girl. She was just standing in the hallway like a wide-eyed kitten sporting a giant red bow, tilting her head in curiosity. She needed to be chased.

I sprinted towards her, still on all fours, barking madly with all the ferocity of a rabid wolf. My approach so startled her that she didn’t have time to turn around and run. Instead, she started to run backwards, scuttling her feet behind her as quickly as she could.

SLAM. She ran right into a wall. She practically ran through a wall.

When her friends helped her out, we all stared at the damage. This wasn’t some minor crack. There was a crater in the wall. It gaped at us, a monstrous gloating mouth.

Fortunately, the girl was perfectly fine: a sore ankle, a mild case of embarrassment. The wall was the real victim.

The next day someone came round to repair the wall. A few days later a poster went up announcing the total cost of repairing the damages: around 300 British pounds, or what was over $600 at the time. These costs were split over the hundred-something residents in halls, so each person only had to pay about 3 pounds. Some people wanted to rat me out, but I had friends in high places — like the student council. People soon forgot about the money. But the memory of the drunken birthday dog will live forever.

Interview With David Noel

2010-04-07T18:58:00.000-07:00

Here's an interview I did with David Noel. He's a tech evangelical for soundcloud, a company that takes the daily hassle out of receiving, sending & distributing music for artists, record labels & other music professionals. Here's what he had to say:

me:

3:04 PM could you tell me a little bit about soundcloud?

3:06 PM i guess first of all, the general idea behind it, why you think it will work

oh, and then your role as a tech evangelist

David: ok well the last couple of years the web & music has always tried to answer the question of how to best solve "music" for consumers

3:07 PM all services seem to tackle the question of how can people best consume music and with an vast catalog

3:08 PM until now not many services have addresses creators of audio and solve the problem of moving music across the web

of course there are services targeted at artists but none has made it easy for people to send and receive music, people that do it all day

3:09 PM they had to use ftp, mediafire, rapidshare and all these ugly ad-supported services that don't pay respect to the actual track that gets sent, that was the basic premise for sc: you have a piece of audio and we help you move it across the web

3:10 PM my role as an evangelist is best described here in a recent blog post: http://david-noel.com/post/441261504/evangelism

and here (which is almost a year old): http://blog.soundcloud.com/2009/10/08/david-noel/

3:11 PM me: ok, cool thanks for those two links

so, the people that you target are more everyday people sending and receiving music.

is that other artist's tracks, or their own tracks?

3:12 PM David: yes, it's mostly creators of music/audio and intermediaries that send and receive digital audio: labels, pluggers, digital pr, publisher, music supervisors, mastering studios etc

and independent "prosuming" artists

3:13 PM aside from sending, we provide nice players to easily push to social networks. basically sc is your control room for your audipo from where you distribute your tracks to where your fans are and where the discussion takes plae

place

3:14 PM in short: for artists: tools to showcase your work publicly - for people sending/receiving: send and receive private tracks

3:15 PM me: ok, very cool. do you see it being used by artists and the music industry the most?

or do you find a lot of fans using the site as well?

David: yes, artists and the industry are the folks actually working with the service and the service connects them with their fans

3:16 PM so if you see the players across the web, they're always from the perception of the fan, both are in a symbiotic relationship but the features of the services are tailored to producers not to fans

you won't see charts or discovery or recommendation features (aside from groups)

3:17 PM but a fan could sign up and follow artists and stay updated about new stuff in their dashboard - just like I do since I don't produce. I follow my fav labels and artists and my dashboard is my music inbox, just like email - check itregularly

3:18 PM it takes time to find the right people to follow and that's what's different, you actually have to invest some time to find the right people you're interested in

me: ok got ya. that's really cool.

3:19 PM as far as the financial side goes. what are your main costs associated with the business right now?

David: the main costs are staff & tech

tech as in infrastructure and servers etc

staff = payroll

3:20 PM we don't do marketing right now, the product is its own marketing in some way and word of mouth is doing a good job, we're about to hit 1 million users soon

*registered users, that doesn't take into account "fans" that only listen/stream

3:21 PM me: ok i see. is there a sort of virality to it? meaning that to use it you have to spread it?

David: the service is a freemium model, a free basic account and 4 tier premium accounts

3:22 PM me: ok i see. where is your funding coming from? mainly the premium accounts? or other sources as well?

3:23 PM David: we took on vc last year (€2.5m) from doughty hanson tech ventures in london and the premium accounts are almost covering our operational costs

3:24 PM we're beyond plan every month growing at 20%/month so the model proves to be working

3:25 PM virality: yes, the players are everywhere on the web and the waveform is a brand now on the web, you see it, you like it, you want it. then we make it easy to share via twitter and facebook

me: ok, got ya.

3:26 PM it sounds like you guys have a pretty good model going

David: thanks :)

haha as i said, we could go on all night

3:30 PM one thing maybe to mention is that we see soundcloud as a platform, offering accessible data via our API, developers can tap into it and create whole new services, just like with twitter

3:31 PM also worth mentioning is that we'll integrate with all important audio software producers to offer an easy and seamless way to push your productions to the web (your sc account) with one click, bypassing the desktop.

that I think covers the basic service as it is today, on a high-ish level

me: wow, that's really cool. you guys are coming up with some great ideas

3:32 PM David: yeah, it's exciting and a great product/team/company

me: ya sounds like it.

well thanks a lot, david

Kumar's Greatest Hits II/I Kill Tuna

2010-04-04T18:55:00.000-07:00

I met Kumar in the dining hall during the first few weeks of school. You'll remember him from this post. He was sitting with some people I knew, so some friends and I sat down with them. He didn't say much at first, but after a few minutes in silence he blurted out "that damn tuna keep me up all night." "Um pardon me?," I responded.

From there he started to rant in broken English. "That damn tuna of Tom keep me up all night. It in cage. Banging on cage ... SOOOO loud, I can't sleep because of damn tuna. I think I might kill tuna." I ran this scenario through my head: Kumar's roommate Tom has a tuna. It's in a cage. It bangs on its cage at night which keeps Kumar awake. Tuna fish are about 6 feet long and can be hundreds of pounds. This seemed odd, to say the least.

Me: you have a tuna in your room?
Kumar: yes. The bastard keep me up all night.
Me: so the cage must be pretty big?
Kumar: ya cage is big.

Now, I've heard of weird pasttimes--a kid I'd met that day was an amazing accordion player, and colleges love admitting kids based on strange hobbies--but having a tuna fish as a pet seemed far fetched.

Kumar: ya I want to kill but I think Tom gets mad if I do.
Me: well what would you do with it after you killed it?
Kumar: I just need sleep. Maybe throw it out window and bird will eat.
Me: would a tuna fit through a window?
Kumar: ya, tuna will fit.
Me: wait, how big is the tuna?
Kumar: like one pound.
Me: wait, are we thinking of the same thing? Is tuna a fish?
Kumar: what? No, it's a tuna. It's like, in cage, small, has hair.
Me: ummmmmmm

This made Kumar very frustrated and he started to curse under his breath.

Kumar: it's a damn tuna alright?
Me: but you said it wasn't a fish.
Kumar: I know, it's a tuna.
Me: a tuna is a fish.
Kumar: no, you're wrong. Wait, let me ask Tom. Tom we have a tuna in our room, right?
Me: Tom do you have a tuna fish in your room?

Tom gave me a look that said he repairs Kumar's broken english three or four times a day.

Tom: We have a hamster, it's name is Tuna.
Kumar: OH YA! GOD DAMN HAMSTER. I WANT TO KILL HAMSTER!

Annoying Facebook Friends

2010-03-26T18:12:00.000-07:00

G.Q. Magazine did this montage of the 18 most annoying Facebook friends. It's dead on.

Broken English/Kumar's Greatest Hits

2010-03-23T21:34:00.000-07:00

My friend Kumar moved to America when he was a senior in high school. Prior to that he'd lived in Khatmandu, Nepal, and even before that he'd lived in a remote Nepalese village that was accessible only by taking a two day Yak trek. Soon after he graduated from high school in the United States, he enrolled in college with us.

Perry describes him as one of those "for a cup of coffee a day you can save this child" kids you see on PBS, only he happened to make it to America and did quite well for himself once he got here.

Kumar is dark skinned, small, and skeletal—he looks a lot like the Vietnamese Communist revolutionary Ho Chi Minh, except with long, black, Kurt Cobainesque hair. His speech in English comes out in heavily accented machine gun blasts. To put it euphemistically, there is a language barrier. Euphemism aside, when I first met the kid I couldn't understand a word he was saying.

The best thing about Kumar though, is when he can’t think of the right English word, he gets frustrated and starts firing out mixed bursts of random and profane English words. An even better thing about Kumar, is that when he gets frustrated at a person, he fires out the same bursts of random, violent profanity in the form of insults. He's figured out that if he just takes two words that he knows have a negative and insulting connotation and mixes them, he'll do just fine at assaulting your character, and maybe even make you cry. And, oh, he does. Here is Kumar at his best:

You insane homo.
You fu**ing piece of character.
You fu**ing horny ass.
You old gay.
You horny jackass.
You shit failure.
You loser damn.
You fu**ing horse shit baby.
You fu**ing whore ass.
You bastard pimp.
You horny moron.
You old horny retard.
You sickly shit.

As you would expect, Kumar never loses an argument. His insults act like a tazer, rendering their victim completely stunned and debilitated for the rest of the night. How do you recover from insults like that? The answer is, you don't.

Frat Boy Turned Thomas Crown

2010-03-16T10:55:00.000-07:00

And I thought the only thing college kids did for spare cash was work in the library or, if they're feeling sinister, buy Bud Lights for freshman and charge double. Check out what this frat boy turned Thomas Crown did for thousands of dollars in beer money.

William John Scott is a freshman at Drew University. He studies political science. He plays defense on the lacrosse team. He describes himself on Facebook as a night person who likes to party.

But federal prosecutors say he is something else: a busy archives thief who stole famous letters written by a founder of the United Methodist Church and world leaders, including Abraham Lincoln and Madame Chiang Kai-Shek.

Click on the text for the full article, via the New York Times.

Professor Salaries

2010-03-15T09:07:00.000-07:00

I'm far away from America on spring break this week. That being said, posts will be few and far between, and short and sweet at that.

The other day I was thinking about a professor I had in college. He was a funny guy with a good sense of humor. Whenever the class asked him to do something above and beyond his syllabus, he'd respond sarcastically with "they don't pay me enough for that." We'd all laugh, he was hilarious. It'd go like this:

Class: Can we have an extension on our mid term paper?
Professor: No, they don't pay me enough to do that.

Class: It's beautiful outside today. Can we hold class outside?
Professor: Absolutely not. They don't pay me enough for that.

So I began to wonder ... how much did this guy actually make? If you ask random people around campus, they'll give you figures that range from $40,000 to $200,000. Clearly these figures are wrong.

So I did some research, just to figure out how much they weren't paying this guy. Here is a link to find out how much money your professors bring in annually. Now, I'm not advocating you use this in any way. It's just nice to have to information. In my case, when my professor said "they don't pay me enough for that," I'd just laugh and quietly say to myself, "you're a damn liar," and take whatever he wasn't going to do like a man.

Click here to go to the professor salary finder. Also, don't write in your school's name. It messes up the search. Just click on what state your school is in and go from there.

Wine Perry

2010-03-10T20:07:00.000-08:00

There is one thing that Perry should never have, and that's wine. Ninety-nine percent of the time he acts like a gentleman--someone you could bring home to your parents. But there is always that lingering threat that he could delve into his ungentlemanly persona that we've come to know as "Wine Perry."

Giving Perry wine is like giving a dog chocolate--his body doesn't process it correctly and he begins to act wildly, even savagely. It seems to me that Perry has some broken chromosome in his DNA sequence that when inundated with wine, totally warps his personality into a silly, twisted mess. And it is hilarious.

One glass turns into two turns into seven. His teeth become scarlet, and his smile became looser and more frequent. When I lived with him, the night's that he'd haphazardly chosen to drink wine would start something like this.

7:00: bottle of wine opened, I'd say "dear god" and recite Psalm 116:15, just in case the night got out of hand.
7:05: Perry never drank wine without a ridiculous spread of cheese, crackers, and cured meats--he'd assemble the spread while sipping his wine. I'd usually go to my computer to do some homework while Perry would continue to wine himself. Every now and then I'd hear the telltale grgrgrgrgr of wine being emptied into a glass.
8:20: While sitting at my computer I'd hear a strange and delirious "Uuuuuttttaaaaahhhhh," and I would instantly know that Perry had turned into Wine Perry. The night would devolve from there.

Now, anything was on the table. There were, however, certain things that would inevitably occur when Wine Perry made an appearance:

He would take off his pants. Not in a sexual way, it just seemed to be a characteristic of Wine Perry. In the same way that a normal person doesn't wear a down coat in summer, Wine Perry didn't wear pants, opting for boxer shorts instead.
Any girl that walked past the room would have "hey floozie," yelled at them. They wouldn't get mad though, they'd just poke their head in the room, notice that Perry was pantsless and had bright red teeth, and let out a little giggle. They knew what was up.
He would slur insults at everyone. But the insults weren't meant to be mean or to criticize whoever they were directed at, they were meant to be hilarious. And they were--"Hey you! You're like a grass stain on a pant leg." "You are like a person who forgot to do something important." "Hey you, I bet you make out with people." "You remind me of a farmer with no real plow experience to speak of." "Your stature is that of a goat."
He would get dangerous. He didn't mean to do this, but when he decided it was time for more cheese after his 6th wine, that knife became a ticking time bomb. He'd wave it around, demanding more cheese while cursing the bastard who had eaten his last cracker. Eventually we'd talk him down, he'd put away the knife, and he'd resort to gnawing on block of cheese.
He'd visit everyone in the dorm building. He'd strut in, pantsless, glass of wine in hand, while chomping crackers with red teeth. Then he'd go sit on the persons bed and proceed to chat their ear off. Usually with ridiculous nonsense. "So, you know, Amanda, I've been considering opening up a radish farm. But it wouldn't really be a radish farm, per se, it would more likely function as a clown training area. Ya, a clown training ground of the highest caliber. Similar to how the Taliban trains terrorists in those camps in the sand-laden countries, except instead of terrorists, I'd train clowns at my radish farm. What do you think?" Eventually people began to lock their doors when word got around that Wine Perry might make an appearance that night.

Those are just a few standards, but there are so, so many more. Wine doesn't so much put Perry in a state of drunkenness, as it does put him in a state of sillyness. And he knew it. He still uses Wine Perry to instill fear in people's hearts when he doesn't want to do something. "I don't want to go to that party. If you take me to that party I'm going to drink wine and you'll have to go with Wine Perry." Which, actually, has grown to be fine with me. Who needs to pay big bucks for entertainment when you can just buy Perry a bottle of wine?

Liberal Arts and Jobs

2010-03-08T19:48:00.000-08:00

With the economy in the tank and the class of 2009 hanging out in their Mom's basement, or wearing a bright orange t-shirt and visor that say "Dunkin Donuts" instead of a power-suit to work everyday, colleges and their students are starting to rethink the traditional liberal arts education, for better or for worse. A piece in the New York Times reported that:

Even before they arrive on campus, students — and their parents — are increasingly focused on what comes after college. What’s the return on investment, especially as the cost of that investment keeps rising? How will that major translate into a job?

The pressure on institutions to answer those questions is prompting changes from the admissions office to the career center. But even as they rush to prove their relevance, colleges and universities worry that students are specializing too early, that they are so focused on picking the perfect major that they don’t allow time for self-discovery, much less late blooming. The piece then goes on to talk about how numerous colleges are focusing on providing majors and programs that are more relevant in the job market, and dropping majors that don't typically result in jobs and that have become unpopular in recent years. For example, the University of Michigan recently created 100 entrepreneurial classes while it simultaneously dropped its classics major.

All of the educators interviewed in the New York Times piece seemed to think that adding more job-market-relevant courses was a good thing. But there were some reservations. The Dean of St. Michael's, a liberal arts school in Vermont highlighted the value of a liberal arts education when he said: “The humanities tend to educate people much farther out. They’re looking for an impact that lasts over decades, not just when you’re 22.” I personally am glad that liberal arts colleges are starting to diversify in a skeptical manner. I think that the liberal arts education--which teaches how to think critically and analytically as opposed to how to perform a particular job--is the cornerstone for a well rounded person. But it also has its setbacks, especially when--for the classes of 2009--real jobs are harder to come by than a strip club in Saudi Arabia, and recent graduates are earning less than ever. In most liberal arts majors you learn a lot of amazing information, but often times this information is hard to apply to the real world. Take me, for example. At the liberal arts school I attended, my major was a mix of environmental science, economics, and politics. In my economics classes I learned tons of information about markets and how economies function as a whole, but I didn't learn a damn thing about my own money. I can tell you what will happen to the price of a can of Coca Cola when there is an aluminum shortage, or the tenets of a Marxist economy, or why many of the U.S. trade policies are disadvantageous to the economies in the developing world. But let's say I were to win a million dollars in the lottery, even after all those economics classes I took, I wouldn't have the slightest idea about how to invest my money. I'd either A. have to do some serious research or B. hire someone who majored in business at a non-liberal arts school to invest it for me. This is problematic, and a happy medium between learning about the flow of revenue into a random Asian company versus the flow of revenue into my own wallet should be struck. The liberal arts education is great, unless you're a philosophy or ethno-musicology major making the same amount of money by mowing lawns with your B.A. as you did mowing lawns in high school. Which is why I think it's great that liberal arts colleges are starting to give a greater focus on relevant courses.

Maybe something good will come out of the current economic downturn after-all--liberal arts majors who not only know how to think, but also how to function in a real life work place.

Parents Don't Need to Know

2010-03-04T20:48:00.001-08:00

Your parents are usually going to assume that you are spending your time drinking on the weekend. And rightly so—it’s college. What the hell else are you supposed to do?

But when your parents call you on Saturday morning—praying that you are alive or that the voice that picks up your phone won’t say “hello, Clark count Jail”—there is a strict protocol that I HIGHLY recommend you follow so that your parents don’t know you’re partying on the weekends:

1. Usually the first thing that a suspecting parent will ask is, “hey how are you?” ALWAYS THINK ABOUT THE TONE OF YOUR VOICE BEFORE YOU ANSWER THIS QUESTION. Is it raspy? Does it sound like the lead singer of AC/DC? Change that. Always answer with “good.” But don’t make it a deathed out, I just smoked a whole pack of cigarettes and my head feels like it’s going to explode “good.” It should be a “GOOOD!” that would win you the Miss Congeniality award in a beauty pageant. This will throw the parents a curve ball, and they will become disoriented.

2. While they are disoriented, make the first strike. Remember, they called you to interrogate you about how hard you’d partied the night before. Don’t stand for it, you’ve got to hit them hard and you’ve got to hit them heavy. Take control of the conversation—you’re driving this damn bus. Ask them something completely random that will buy you ample time, such as, “hey how’s Aunt Mabel down in Reno doing?” Not only will they have to tell you how Aunt Mabel is doing, they will also be pleasantly surprised that you give a shit about Aunt Mabel (which you may or may not).

3. While they are rambling off about Aunt Mabel, have your roommate—and I can’t count how many times I had Perry do this for me—go onto your college’s website and bring up the event calendar. Have him or her write down a few school-sponsored events that happened the night before. Only then will you be ready for the question that your parents really called to ask.

4. So when the question comes—“so junior, what’d you do last night”—never, absolutely never under no condition, say, “oh not much, just hung out.” Your parents went to college too, and when they “didn’t do much, just hung out” they drank a twelve pack and conceived you. Saying, “not much, just hung out,” is like saying “oh, just drank more beers than I can count on one hand. Oh, and by the way, I’m going to fail out this semester, I hope you didn’t give the X-box to that neighbor kid.”

5. This is where the school-sponsored events that you had your roommate write down come in handy. When the question comes—“so what’d you do last night, Junior?”—look down at the paper he or she has so delicately prepared for you. Then hit you parents with a Mack God Damned Truck—“Oh just went to the East Indian Dance concert at the arts center. It was hosted by the Indian club, and they had SUCH wonderful Naan. Not to mention, the five-dollar cover charge went to help orphans in New Dehli. It was an amazing time.”

6. That’s all you need to say. The interrogation is over—game, set, and match, you. And not only will your parents be relieved because they think you weren’t at a party, they will be proud that you took part in all the wonderful cultural opportunities that college has to offer.

7. Also, if they suspect bullshit, they can look it up on the calendar. Evidence baby—“if the glove does not fit, you must acquit.”

The Great Swan Purchase

2010-02-25T21:18:00.000-08:00

In the spring of my sophomore year, Perry and I started a rumor that made its way across the entire campus. It wasn't damaging to anyone's reputation, but it was quite ridiculous.

The rumor started like this ... It was a nice spring day and Perry and I were having lunch in the dining hall with a big group of people. There were probably 12 of scrunched into one long table, chatting about the upcoming weekend, which was prospective freshman weekend--a weekend where prospective freshman and their parents come to visit the college. It was a brilliant sunny day and after eating, everyone was looking out the windows at the pond that surrounds the dining hall.

Suddenly, a swan swooped over the pond and gracefully landed right into everyone's field of vision. We'd all seen the swan before--it had been living in the pond for the last few days. Our school's pond had never housed a swan though--a few ducks here and there--but never a swan, and people were genuinely excited about it. Especially the stoned hippies--"whoa brooo, a beautiful creature from mother nature, he kinda even looks like Jerry Garcia if you look at him from a weird angle," you get the picture.

One of the kids at our table commented on how great it was that our pond--whose bottom was, and still is, filled with empties and other garbage--was now home to a beautiful white swan. His statement caused my mind and tongue to run wild, Perry backed me up, and the great swan purchase rumor began:

Kid 1: That swan is so cool. I love that it's living in out pond. It's a gift from nature.

Me: Yes, it's nice to look at, but have you considered the financial and ethical implications of that swan?

Kid 2: What?

Me: The president of the college paid 20,000 dollars for that swan. He bought it because prospective students and their parents are coming this weekend. Then they injured its wings so it can't fly far enough away to leave the pond.

Kid 1: Wait, what? No. That can't be right. Why would he do that for prospective students?

Then Perry jumped in. He knew what I was up to. He was like Van Damme in Bloodsport ... no hesitation, no fear, no mercy, a professional killer totally in the zone.

Perry: You didn't already know about the swan? I thought everyone knew about the purchase of the swan. What the hell happened to campus activism? Anyways, the president bought the swan so prospective students and their parents will walk past the pond, see the swan, and then think "hey look at that magnificent swan. This place is lovely, it's like a fairytale campus." Then the parents will be like, "shit Jr., I'll pay 50 grand a year to send you to this place. Wait, let me get my camera, pose in from of the swan." Next thing you know, we have a bunch of kids enrolling for next year who before seeing the swan were only 'considering' even applying.

Me: Ya, the idea is golden. I heard they crunched the numbers and calculated that the swan will get at least one or two prospective students to come to this dump. Think about that, over four years that's like $200,000 a person. If the swan convinces 5 people that this is a quality campus ... BAM SONNNNN it's like a million dollar swan. Granted there are ethical considerations, like the livelihood of the animal itself, but the president doesn't care, he's a bottom line kind of guy. The swan's pain is our gain.

Everyone at the table in unison: Wowwww. That's crazy, that poor swan ...

The whole table believed EVERY word of our story. Perry and I walked back to our dorm chuckling about the cock-and-bull story we'd just concocted. But we didn't think much of it after that.

Until two days later. While in the dining hall, we overheard some hippies talking. "Dude, did you hear the president payed like 20 grand for that swan? Ya, to get prospectives to come here. But the messed up thing is, man, they injured its wing so it can't fly far enough away to leave campus. It's really, really kinda effed up." We turned around and looked back at who was speaking. We had never even seen these dirty hippies.

Two days after that, a girl we vaguely knew came up to us to chitchat. At some point in the conversation she threw in "hey guys, did you hear about how the president paid like 20,000 dollars for that swan, then like broke it's wing so it can't leave campus?" "Nooo, really? Tell us about it, it sounds like foul play me," we'd respond.

By day five we'd heard our story about the great swan purchase from at least 10 totally different, seemingly unrelated people each. The story had completely rounded the campus. It had economics kids debating cost benefit analyses of the swan purchase at lunch, and philosophy kids debating the ethics of animal exploitation at dinner.

The story of the great swan purchase culminated when the college newspaper wrote an article that debunked the rumor. But it was too late, we'd had our fun.

Study Abroad Tips

2010-02-22T17:51:00.000-08:00

A few study abroad tips from me and other people on the internet:

As an American, you are allowed to talk twelve decibels louder than anyone else.
If you get in trouble with the the government, your best bet is to threaten to tell the US government that there's oil there.
Wearing an American flag t-shirt is not the wisest wardrobe decision.
None of your friends will want to hear your study abroad stories when you come home.
You'll never have this opportunity again, so feel free to waste as much of your parents money as you can.
Pay extra for an imported Budweiser at any bar you go to, then scoff and say "best beer in the world," just to piss the locals off.
No matter what happens, always have your dad's credit card number memorized.
Sweatpants are not appropriate classroom attire in any country except America.
“I am American” isn’t exactly an excuse for being ignorant and obnoxious, but the locals will accept your faults better if you say it.
If you hear a shitty American song at a bar in , instantly become very proud of it and feel it represents your entire culture.
Do not bring drugs. Drugs are probably legal where you are going.
Do not get in fights with the locals. People in the third world have nothing to lose. Literally.
Don't be disappointed to see American fast-food when you arrive. It doesn't make your experience any less authentic--you'll be eating there everyday after the first time you get food poisoning.
In Spanish speaking countries, you can't get away with adding o to the end of every wordo.
Check you abroad insurance policy before you Run with the Bulls in Pamplona, or enter a Muay Thai boxing match in Thailand.
You have a 75% chance of getting roofied. Deal with it.

Interview With Duncan Birmingham

2010-02-22T17:48:00.000-08:00

I recently did a Q&A with Duncan Birmingham, author of the awesomely funny blog Pets Who Want To Kill Themselves. I thought everyone would like to hear what he had to say about blogging. He's as funny over IM as he is in the blog, make sure to vote for his blog here for a South by Southwest Web Award:

me: hi

i guess first of all, what gave you the idea for the blog?

duncan: lets play hardball

me: ha ha exactly

duncan: the only holiday cards i keep on my fridge all year around are ones with pets on them. it got me looking for similar photos on the net. i came up with a funny title and just starting compiling them with captions. it seemed like the kind of thing that would go viral and luckily it did.

by pets, i mean dressed up pets in santa suits and reindeer antlers.

me: so you had a feeling it would go viral?

duncan: i did. i'm not a huge internet guy, but i have taken a few stabs at tossing something out there in hopes that it will go viral (see my Mr. Pickles sketch on my web page for example of not going viral). The title was really the key. It just sums up exactly what's funny about the phenom of dressed-up pets. Within 10 days the website was in New York magazine.

me: 10 days? wow, that's insane.

then the book deal came soon after?

duncan: it did. i think because it's on tumblr where a lot of media-types are so it was very easy for them to spot it. you're familiar with tumblr?

me: ya somewhat. i've used it a little bit.

duncan: yes, then i got calls about a book within a few weeks, founds a great agent and we did the deal pretty quickly.

the sad irony is that i worked on a serious novel for two years that i couldn't get published and then this silly thing fell in my lap

me: wow. that's interesting.

did you track your site hits at all?

duncan: weirder still is that i don't have any pets (yet) and terrible with computers (as you can tell)

duncan: i use google analytics. i don't check often, but i probably get 20,000 on a great day when the site is in the press and on average 7000 viewers. i got 50,000 when the site was on the front page of the NYT in March

but 7,000 is the usual.

me: wow. that's a huge amount of traffic. no wonder the book deal came through so quick

do you think being a writer helped at all? i mean, the captions below are amazing and concise

duncan: i hope being a writer helped a little bit. i mean the captions usually make me laugh. it's not easy to look at your 50th photo of a dog wearing a backwards baseball cap and think of something funny to write. i like to think of it as a one-panel comic strip like The Far Side. but with more poop jokes.

i write screenplays in L.A. if i could think of a plotline, i'd love to do Pets Who Want To Kill Themselves the movie

me: if you could think of a plot, i think it could definitely be funny

has the blog helped your screenplay writing get noticed more?

duncan: i don't think so. i've been having a good year with screenwriting regardless. it is a fun icebreaker if a producer has seen the book at Borders and recognizes my name. then they think i "do it all"

duncan: but it has been really fun. i've corresponded with people all over the world, made some dough and next month am going to southbysouthwest where PWWTK is nominated for best blog!

me: wow, that's awesome. i bet you're fired up about that

the thing is hilarious. i read it and crack up. once i had my computer in class and was looking at it and just started dying

do you plan on trying to start other blogs with the blot-to-book idea in mind?

duncan: thanks buddy

duncan: i've tried to think of ways to do another novel but start it as a blog to gain a following first---but i just haven't come up with what i think is a great way to do that. i think it's hard to launch a fiction book from a blog. i have been thinking about doing a screenwriting blog that includes screenwriting tips with hollywood stories and so that's an idea that would have book potential. we'll see

me: that could definitely be cool.

i'd read something like that.

but i hear you about the novel thing. you might as well try to figure something out though.

if nothing else, your website probably gets enough traffic that if you linked out, quite a few people would see it and maybe it'd get some buzz

duncan: i would hope so

me: that's pretty much all the questions i have

actually one more. what do you think are the main things that helped your blog take off?

you mentioned the title helped

duncan: 1. the title that prompted people to want to at least click on the site.

duncan: 2. the format.humorous photo/caption formst is a well-worn blog format that's easy to read and a fun escape from work

3. the fact that it has to do with pets which are second only to porn on the internet.

4. the fact that it took a fresh, twisted view on pets. instead of another "cute" blog

thats it, really

Ballad of the Mongoose Part I

2010-02-21T17:39:00.001-08:00

My twentieth birthday was unforgettable. My roommates Perry and James gave me a child’s Mongoose BMX bike. It was a brilliant candy red and navy blue color. It had an obnoxious horn and pink streamers on the handlebars. But best of all, it had pegs on both the front and back wheels. It was my Cadillac. And even though it was a gift for me specifically, it was really a gift for all of us.

From that day forth, whenever all three of us would go anywhere together, we would ride the Mongoose. I would sit in the driver seat and pedal. James would stand on the back pegs, clinging tightly to my shoulders, and Perry would sit on the handlebars, usually smoking a fat cigar. If it were night, Perry and James would both carry sparklers.

Trips to the dining hall were the best. The only route to get down to the dining hall was by taking a long, fast, highly trafficked walking path. The horn came in handy on the path, and more than once we narrowly missed small girls talking on their cell phones. On the way down we’d pass classrooms whose walls were big, open windows.

While sitting in class and listening to a boring lecture, people would see three grown men riding one Toys-R-Us bike fly by at speeds of up to 20 miles an hour. The Mongoose was meant for an 80-pound child; somehow it could sustain all 450 pounds of us three.

Balancing 3 men on the Mongoose was an extreme test of our physical dexterity. We’d get a running start to make sure everyone was onboard. I’d get maybe 10 pedal strokes before we hit the hill—the bike’s tires bulging out and rims scraping the pavement as we began our descent.

Riding down the hill we chugged past afternoon classes, professors, and students like a freight train on the wrong sized rails. Any crash would have meant instant hospitalization for all three of us. But I am a trained professional.

Upon arrival at the dining hall our phones would explode with text messages from the people whose classrooms we had passed. If it were from a girl it would be, “you guys are so funny.” If it were from a guy it would say, “you guys are jackasses, can I be the 4^th rider?”

I never really cared about transportation before the Mongoose—cars were to get from point A to point B, not for flash. The Mongoose taught me that flash is good—if you’re trying to get somewhere, get there in style and have fun doing it.

Filthy Rich Offer Best Bargains

2010-02-18T20:15:00.000-08:00

The Princeton Review recently released their list of America's best value colleges. To figure out the rankings, they looked at 30 different factors in 3 areas: academics, costs, and financial aid. How they figured it all out isn't that important. What is important is the list that they compiled. Here are the top 10 private college values:

1. Swarthmore College (Swarthmore, Pa.) 2. Harvard College (Cambridge, Mass.) 3. Wesleyan College (Macon, Ga.) 4. Princeton University (Princeton, N.J.) 5. Yale University (New Haven, Conn.) 6. Williams College (Williamstown, Mass.) 7. Rice University (Houston, Texas) 8. Massachusetts Institute of Technology (Cambridge, Mass.) 9. Amherst College (Amherst, Mass.) 10. Wellesley College (Wellesley, Mass.) Harvard? Princeton? Yale? MIT? At first this list astounded me. I thought these places cost as much as 16 Hummers filled with platinum chains. But I guess it all makes sense--these schools have more money than most small countries. They give out full ride scholarships like condoms at a porn convention. Seriously, they're all crazy rich. I've heard that Harvard's swim team trains in a pool filled with 100 dollar bills. And that Princeton has Beluga caviar and Dom Perignon champagne in all the dining halls at all times, mainly for food fights and champagne showers. And that Yale actually bought all of the blow in South America to stop their students from doing so much of it. And that every graduate of MIT is awarded with a degree, a mink coat, and a Bentley with 22 inch chrome rims. I really should have paid attention and not slept through high school. Maybe I'd be writing this from a Bentley while wearing a mink coat. Oh well. 50 Cent. MIT Class of '95

Most Ridiculous College Classes Ever

2010-02-17T18:02:00.000-08:00

Here is a list of some of the dumbest college classes ever offered:

14. Learning From YouTube at Pitzer College- This one is great because you don't get in trouble for watching YouTube in class. In fact, it's encouraged.
13. Arguing with Judge Judy: Popular Logic on TV Judge Shows at UC Berkeley- In the afternoons when this class is held, Judge Judy is the only thing on TV. So even if you ditch, you're still stuck with Judge Judy. Is this some kind of sick joke?

12. Finding Dates Worth Keeping at Sioux Falls College- If you can't find a date in this class, I don't know where you can.
11. Alien Sex at University of Rochester- Ummm, what?

10. The Art of Walking at Centre College- You start by learning the C-Walk, B-Walk, G-Walk, Pimp-Walk, and all the other gangsteresque walks. Then your final exam is a Parkour Course.
9. The Joy of Garbage at Santa Clara University- This class is a great excuse for why your room is such a dump.

8. Cyberporn and Society at State University of New York at Buffalo- Or as I like to call it, an A+ for perverts.
7. Maple Syrup at Alfred University- "We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns and maple syrup." -Elf

6. UFOs in American Society at Temple University- The professor was actually abducted by aliens. He just stands in the front of the class and trips out about it for 3 hours a week.
5. The Science of Harry Potter at Frostburg State University- Who wouldn't take this class?

4. Philosophy and Star Trek at Georgetown University- I wonder if this professor is a Trekkie.
3. Underwater Basket Weaving at University of California San Diego- Synchronized swimming + arts and crafts = this class and awesomeness.

2. The Strategy of StarCraft at University of California Berkeley- Great, now your nerdy roommate has a legitimate excuse for playing StarCraft for 39 hours straight.
1. Alantis Morissette Appreciation Class hosted by Diane Stark, not for any real academic credit- Isn't this ironic?

If you're interested in finding more ridiculous classes, just go to the Brown University Course Catalog, search around a bit, and enjoy.

Cocktail Cuts

2010-02-15T15:34:00.001-08:00

College students are poor. That’s a given—hence the Natural Light beer, steady diet of Top Ramen, etc.... When you have no money, you do what you can to cut costs, from the simple—stealing food from the cafeteria—to the extreme—living in your school’s library like NYU’s Bobst Boy did. There are, however, some things you should never do to save money. Here is one of those things:

It was sophomore year, I was poor, and my hair was shaggy and gross. I needed a haircut. It was a Thursday night and I planned to wake up early the next morning and go to the local salon for a haircut. But when I pulled out my wallet to do some quick budgeting, I realized I only had 20 spare dollars.

Since the next day was Friday, I knew I would need weekend supplies—beer and pizza. I started to run the numbers:

Beer- $15

Pizza- $5

Haircut- $20

I was 20$ over budget. Something had to go, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the beer or pizza. I decided I’d have to continue to rock the dirty mop that had become my hair—until I was struck with a brilliant idea.

I had recently purchased an electric shaver to trim my beard. Why couldn’t I use it to cut my hair? I’d seen it done before—dudes on my floor would cut each other’s hair with electric razors all the time.

I yelled across the room at Perry, “dude, wanna cut my hair?” “Oh HELL YA man,” he responded, “hold on though, let me have a couple cocktails.” I didn’t know what to think of this—a liquored up rookie barber with a sharp, motorized object isn’t the safest combination, so I asked, “why do you need cocktails for this job?” Perry’s response took care of my fears “oh, don’t worry man, the cocktails will steady my hand, trust me, I need to be on my game for this.”

Perry slammed a couple cocktails, burped, and then announced proudly, “ok man, Cocktail Cuts is open for business.”

We went into the bathroom, I sat down on a stool, the electric razor was plugged in, turned on, and the Cocktail Cut began. What follows is why I will never trust Perry with a sharp object again.

I made sure the buzzing razor had a length guard on—I figured Perry would need the training wheels to help him cut my hair the right length. “Ok man,” I told him, “just go over all of it with the guard on so it will be one length and we’ll be good to go. Under no circumstances are you to take the guard off.”

I felt halfway comfortable as Perry ran the buzzing razor from the front of my skull to the back. But a minute or two into the cut, Perry started to bitch that the razor wasn’t chopping all my hair and that he wanted to take the guard off—apparently my $15 Amazon.com razor wasn’t strong enough to chop through my thick mop. I didn’t care. “No dude, you’re not taking the guard off.”

For the next ten minutes Perry kept going back and forth across my head, but it didn’t seem like he was making much progress. Certain spots were cut to the right length, while others were still long—my head looked like a game of Tetris. “Just keep going man, slowly but surely it will all even out,” I reassured him.

After five more minutes Perry became bored—what he thought would be a fun evening involving cocktails and a motorized chopping device was starting to feel like manual labor.

I sat vigilant and unwavering as my mind drifted off and daydreamed. Until I suddenly realized that at some point in my daydreaming Perry had taken the guard off the razor. “DUDE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I shouted as I pulled my head forward to get it away from the unguarded razor.

“DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT,” Perry yelled back as he lunged forward to continue the Cocktail Cut. Mid-lunge his liquored up feet moved faster than his liquored up brain could process and he tripped. The razor bashed into my skull. I heard a loud BZZZZZZZ as I smacked the razor from his hands. Then I felt my head in horror.

Perry had cut out a long, one and a half inch wide landing strip of hair, transforming it into pure white skull. I now had a massive hairless white spot in the middle of my multiple length black hair. I left Cocktail Cuts in disgust. I would have demanded a refund, but Cocktail Cuts is a non-profit venture.

The next morning I went to a real haircut place. I sat down, explained to the nice lady what had happened, asked if she could save my head, and took off my hat. “Jesus Christ did he do a number on you,” the hairdresser said. “I really can’t do anything but buzz your entire head.

I left the hair salon with no hair, no money, and spent the entire weekend sober, pizzaless, and bald. Some cost cutting measures come back to bite you on the ass.

It was a lot like this. Click to watch.

Booze + Energy Drinks = Drunk

2010-02-11T17:06:00.000-08:00

Here's a shocker from a recent scientific study--mixing booze and energy drinks gets you drunk. Really? You're telling me that mixing hard liquor with hundreds of milligrams of caffeine and chemicals may lead to intoxication? Which may also lead to bad decisions? Noooo, come on. Ok, obviously this study brings no surprises, but here's what it had to say:

University of Florida researchers surveyed more than 800 college-age patrons leaving bars between 10 p.m. and 3 a.m. The participants were asked about their energy drink and alcohol consumption and then had their breath-alcohol concentration levels measured.
The 6.5 percent of participants who said they'd been drinking alcohol mixed with energy drinks were three times more likely to be drunk than those who consumed alcohol only. The average breath-alcohol reading for those who consumed alcohol and energy drinks was 0.109, well above the legal limit of 0.08, the study authors noted.
The researchers also found that bar patrons who mixed alcohol and energy drinks left the bar later, drank for longer periods of time, and were four times more likely to say they planned to drive within the hour, compared to those who drank alcohol only, according to the report in the April issue of the journal Addictive Behaviors.

Researchers estimate that about 28% of college students mix alcohol with energy drinks. Many people say that Jager Bombs, Vodka Red Bulls, etc... are the nectar of the devil. I've heard enough twisted stories that I'd have to agree. You know, the stories that start with "So we were doing Jager Bombs ..." and end in "and then I woke up and I was face-down in a bush and I had lost my cellphone and it was noon and there was a dog licking my face." But besides an unfortunate story or two, I think the worst thing that Jager Bombs have brought us, are dudes like this:

College Quotes #1

2010-02-11T16:38:00.000-08:00

I'm going to start writing down some random quotes from college. These two are from Party Boy:

"I was in no shape to be in public last night. Much less dancing with the college president's wife, which I apparently did." -Party Boy after a formal ball which the college president and his wife attend.

Party Boy: Um, dude? Did you see me make out with (fill in the blank) at that party last night?
Me: Hmmmm, no man, I didn't. Last time I saw you, you were dancing and singing to Third Eye Blind's "Semi Charmed Life."
Party Boy: I was dancing to 90s hits? Oh no, I definitely made out with her.

It Takes More Time To Party Than It Does To Study

2010-02-10T20:26:00.000-08:00

The USA Today is reporting that:
Nearly half of college freshmen who drink alcohol spend more time drinking each week than they do studying, suggests a survey involving more than 30,000 first-year students on 76 campuses who took an online alcohol education course last fall.

Students who said they had at least one drink in the past 14 days spent an average 10.2 hours a week drinking, and averaged about 8.4 hours a week studying, according to findings being presented today at a conference in Seattle for campus student affairs officials. Nearly 70% of respondents (20,801 students) said they drank. Of those, 49.4% spent more time drinking than studying.

Actually, drinking was the most time consuming thing these kids did. Here is how they spent their time:

Drinking- 10.2 hours/week
Studying- 8.4 hours/week
Exercising- 5 hours/week
Online Social Networking- 4.1 hours/week (that's fancy talk for checking out hotties on Facebook).
Social Networking- 2.5 hours/week (that's fancy talk for checking out hotties on campus).
Working for Pay- 2.2 hours week

I'm not really surprised by the drinking numbers. If you go out on Friday and Saturday night, you're bound to rack up 10 party hours a week. And hell, as long as you get good grades, who cares, it's your liver. The 8.4 hours a week studying is a little disconcerting, but oh well, if kids can get by on only 8.4 hours of studying a week, let 'em.

The most interesting numbers shown in this survey, however, are those that don't show up at all. All of the 6 activities listed in the survey only add up to about 32 hours. In general, people are awake 16 hours of each day, or 112 hours each week. So if we take away the 32 hours that the freshmen reported boozing/studying/exercising/networking/working we are left with 80 hours. That's 5 days of missing time every week.

We have a mystery here. What are 50% of freshman doing with these 80 unaccounted for hours? ALONE none-the-less, because social networking was already counted. Here are my hypotheses:

Eating- hence the freshman 15.
Smoking Dope- explains why freshman walk around looking so confused.
Sex- it seems probable enough, not sure if it falls under social networking though...
General Bullshitting- this includes movies, reading, talking on the phone, and looking at dumb websites such as this.
Class

Personally, I think it might be a depraved cycle of all 5 of the activities combined. Example: a dude goes to class-1 hour. The dude smokes dope after class- 1 hour. The dude gets hungry after he smokes dope, so the dude eats- 1 hour. Sixteen bowls of Coco Puffs later, the dude wants a lady friend. The dude calls up a lady friend and they have sex- 1 hour. Awkward post sex cuddling while the dude and his lady friend watch a movie (NO TALKING, that would be social networking)- 2 hours. Repeat the cycle for 80 hours, add eight hours of sleep every 16 hours.

It seems feasible to me.

Submitted by F.J.

2010-02-09T06:59:00.000-08:00

One time in college my friends and I had a party. One guest who shall remain nameless went out in the front yard at two o'clock in the morning to make a phone call. He was outside walking around and talking in my front yard, which I happen to share with my next-door neighbor.

My next-door neighbor saw him out there and thought he was a burglar, or just a sketchy person in general. My neighbor decided that he didn't want this sketchy person in his yard, especially at 2AM, so he walked out his front door, and proceeded to chase my friend with a baseball bat.

He who shall remain nameless obviously wigged out--he's on the phone one minute, then the next minute he is being chased by a man with a large, blunt object. The kid narrowly escapes my neighbor and manages jump into his car. He throws his car into reverse and guns it. He doesn't see the fire hydrant behind him though.

His car smashes the fire hydrant over. The fire hydrant explodes. My neighbor ends the chase and goes inside. Next thing we know, the Cops are at the party, the Fire Department is at the party, and the Department of Public Works is at the party. THREE LEVELS OF LAW ENFORCEMENT crash our party. And my yard is a swamp. I hid in my room the entire time.

10 Worst Analogies Ever Written

2010-02-08T16:50:00.000-08:00

These were some of the winners from the Washington Post's "Worst Analogies Ever Written In An Essay" contest. They were submitted by English professors. From time to time, with a deadline breathing down our neck, we all write some bad turns of phrase. But these take the cake:

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.
McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup.
The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola Crayon.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
Bob was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access T:flw.quid55328.com/aaakk/ch@ung but gets T:flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung instead.
He was as tall as a six foot three inch tree.
Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life were a movie, this guy would be buried in the credits as something like, "Second Tall Man."
Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.
He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pin hole in it.

College Friends do Vegas, I Fail Epicly

2010-02-08T10:16:00.000-08:00

In college, people get deep into relationships and fall in love all the time. I was not one of those people. I never fell in love in college. Well, except for this one time:

This last summer me and 7 of my college friends reunited in Las Vegas for gambling, drinking, and general sin. There were 4 guys and 4 girls, and we had an awesome suite that overlooked the strip. We were ballin', or at least they were ballin'. My night ended in emotional ruin. Not to mention a lot earlier than I'd have liked. Here's how it went:

8:00 PM: We leave our hotel and head to the Planet Hollywood Hotel and Casino.

8:20: We get to the Planet Hollywood and stumble upon a party gem: Fat Tuesdays. It's essentially a walk up, food court-like place that only serves frozen cocktails. Think of a Panda Express in the mall, except instead of a row of different Chinese foods, the back wall is lined with 10 Slurpee machines that dispense yard-long, boozy, frozen cocktails. This discovery makes us very happy and we step up to the counter.

8:25: After debating between a frozen margarita and a frozen peach belini, we ask the lady behind the counter which is the strongest drink. "That'd be either the 180 Octane or the Cat 151 Hurricane," she replies. "Ok, thank you, I will take a Cat 151 Hurricane please," I say. She asks me what size I would like--a solo cup, a pilsner glass, or a yard long tube. I tell her this is a ridiculous question and to please fill up the yard long tube. After the tube is filled she asks me if I would like a $1 shot added to my frozen Cat 151 Hurricane. "Yet again, you've asked me a ridiculous question. This is Vegas, do it please" I reply. All the boys get the same drink and we head to the casino.

8:35: We are stopped--the girls are hungry. No one has eaten for 8 hours. They suggest we eat before we get into the thick of the casino and drink our cocktails. Everyone walks into a fast-foodish restaurant and buys food. Except for me. I calculate that my sugary booze concoction probably has around 1,300 calories. That's enough to survive on. I sip my frozen yard of cocktail while they eat.

9:20: We are at a roulette table. I have finished my yard of cocktail. The casino lady running the table--even though she is hot and scantily clad--is not friendly at all. For this reason, I decide it will be fun to give her shit. "Excuse me mam, what happens if the ball lands in blue?" I ask. "There is no blue, sir" she replies angrily. "OK. Then please tell me the quickest way to make $1,000,000 by betting $5 at this table," I ask. "That's impossible, sir." I continue to play roulette and harass her because the cocktail waitress is bringing us free beer the entire time we play. Finally the casino lady goes on break. As she leaves she calls us ass holes. Guilty.

9:25: We take our beers and leave for The Flamingo Casino.

10:10: On the way to the Flamingo, I see that Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville Bar and Restaurant is right next door. I must go in.

10:20: There is only one thing I love more than Jimmy Buffet, and that's drinking frozen margaritas in Margaritaville while a live band plays Jimmy Buffet. I order everyone frozen margaritas as I sing along to Volcano.

11:00: We leave Margaritaville and head into the casino.

11:10: We all go our separate way inside the casino--some go play blackjack, some play craps. I decide to play slot machines.

11:15: I get bored playing slots and spot an amazing woman across the casino. She's standing near some blackjack tables and I must talk to her.

11:20: I strut up and introduce myself, trying my best to exhibit the swagger of a younger Dean Martin. Her name is Flo. She is in Las Vegas celebrating her 39th birthday. She is a skinnier, hotter, less lesbian version of Wanda Sykes. We hit it off instantly.

11:25: She calls me sugar. I fall in love.

11:35: I can tell she likes me back and we continue to flirt. My friends show up to see where we should go next. I tell them to go away.

11:50: I am definitely in love. I decide to kiss her. She kisses me back. It is awesome.

11:55: Her friends show up. They ask her why she is kissing a 22 year old Caucasian boy in the middle of a Las Vegas casino. I explain to them that "it's because we're in love, duh."

11:56: They take Flo aside to talk some sense into her.

12:00: Flo returns and tells me that she must leave. I protest. She leaves.

12:02 AM: I am crushed. I am an emotionally broken man as I go back to the hotel room to sulk, watch the Notebook, then go to sleep.

11AM-11PM the next day: My friends bombard me with hours upon hours of shit-talking for the Flo incident. They think it is the funniest story they have ever heard. I am the brunt of their joke. I don't care, I am still in love.

Best College Character Ever?

2010-02-07T16:38:00.000-08:00

Who is the best college movie character of all time? Click to watch the movie clips then vote on the side.

A. Bluto

B. Frank the Tank

C. Van Wilder