A Media Guide

Things I've hated:

1. Avatar

Fine, maybe I watched this at home streaming on my computer, but I did it specifically so that I could say with complete honesty, "those effects were terrible." That's not the point though. That storyline‽ You've been working on this thing for 15 years Cameron, and the best you could come up with was Dances With Wolves in Space? Great, you created a new element camera. You filmed in a volume. You're revolutionizing film. I don't care, I still fell asleep in the middle of your "climactic" battle scene.

Rating: 2 Ws

You're not that cool, Cameron.

2. Shutter Island

Here's the thing about Shutter Island, for the majority of its 137 minutes I was actively hoping Katie would pull a Cutter Island and save me from having to sit there for the rest of the movie. It's the 1st movie in a long time I considered walking out of. At one point somebody kicked the back of my chair, probably because my moans of despair were getting too loud. Original rating: 1 W. 

Here's the thing though, for as much as I hated it while I was there, it's been a continual topic of conversation and frequent butt of jokes. Talking about that mobile lighthouse, the insanity of smoking their cigarettes, the ending that is literally spelled out for you on a whiteboard; it's made it completely worth it! And of course, it was the inspiration for our original movie, Otter Island. 

Final Rating: 6 Ws & a V

Please end it/me.

3. Finale of LOST

Another confession: nothing during the first 5 seasons of LOST ever made me want to watch this show. Still, I knew the basic storyline from everybody else I know talking about it all the time. I watched season 6 because everybody else was. And then I started season 1, because, well, I was watching season 6. By the time the 8 hour finale rolled around, I'd seen up through the mid-4th season. Does that disqualify me from complaining about how the finale ended? Maybe, but I don't care.

Here are two possible changes that would have left me feeling satisfied with the finale:

a. Cut the entire flash-sideways storyline out of season 6.

Why? LOST spent six years building up the importance of this island. It was about individual choice and free while and redemption and polar bears, but always as they affected, or were affected by, this island. Because the fate of the island was the fate of humanity. Or something. Then in the last 20 minutes of the finale we find out that's not really what the show is about. It's actually just about these people, or maybe just this one person, finding each other again and walking into the light. Walking into the light‽ Are you kidding me? You win, we've all been punk'd.

So, instead, cut the entire flash-sideways and we get a show about the island again. Good beats evil, the island is safe, Jack is dead, the series actually means something.

Or,
b. After Jack's flying death-punch, when you cut to commercial, don't come back from commercial. 

Why? Because anything could happen, the fight between Good & Evil isn't over yet! And we don't have to watch that amazingly bad last scene in the Church of a Couple of Religions.

But here's the real reason why I hated it. For the last 3 or 4 years the writers knew when this show was ending. They had all the time in the world to set up that ending exactly how they wanted it. And apparently they did, because they won't shut up about how they're so grateful they got to end the show on their terms and how proud they are of the conclusion. And so:

Rating: 0 Ws

6 years for this?

4. Treme

Treme. I don't even care enough to write anything about you. Read this instead, it's exactly how I feel.

Rating: 1 V, plus 2 Ws for your music = 2 Ws & a V

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Things I've Loved:

1. How to Train Your Dragon

DreamWorks! Your continuing commitment to Madagascar has really hurt your rep. Hopefully you're not surprised to be America's 2nd favorite animation studio after such hits as Bee Movie and Over The Hedge. But here's something to make you feel better: on the way out of How to Train Your Dragon we were pretty sure we had just seen a Pixar production, based solely on how much we had loved it. You're welcome. In conclusion, even if you have only half a heart, you'll want a dragon of your own by the end. It turns out I do indeed have at least ½ a heart.

Rating: 9 Ws & a V

Toothless! No!!

2. The Losers

Hi, Zoë. I saw you in this trailer and said, "she's doing everything I want to see her doing in this movie." Your ass-kicking, rocket-launching, & tequila-drinking brought me in; I stayed for the rip-roaring good time. The Losers was everything I'm hoping The A-Team will be, but probably won't. 

Rating: 9 Ws

Zoë! Yes!!

3. Quarantine

Two great things came out of this movie:

a. My first full-on scared yell since seeing Jurassic Park in the theaters in 6th grade. Not a jump, a gasp, or an "oh, shit!"; a full throated yell. It felt good.

b. Of all the possible apocalypses out there, I think I'd be most prepared for the zombie apocalypse. There may be some disagreement about the physical abilities of zombies, but here's the one essential piece of information we should all know by now: when faced with zombies or a zombie-like syndrome, you're going to need to SEVER THE HEAD. Don't shoot it in the heart, don't handcuff it to a chair, don't tie it down, just cut off its head. Also, avoid poaching eggs in the attic.

Rating: 9 Ws

Huaaaa!!!!!

Naming Your Conventions

I saw this reference to an old This American Life episode today. I'll forget most of the actual episode by tomorrow, but Evan Harris and her messianic take on the powers of The Quit will still be there, showing off with her boy-turn-girl's name, proving once again that my parents gave all 3 of their sons girl's names of the future. It might have been impressive if they were foreseeing the current onomastic sortie into appropriating male names, but they continue to maintain that they were looking to choose securely masculine names for each of us. I'm still not sure how to take that given the resulting Taylor, Evan, & Whitney. 

It's a classic lose-lose-lose situation too; for every 3 names the girls get, we get zero back in return. G1 crossovers like Ashley, Leslie, Hillary, & Whitney are already gone. G2s like Blake, Jordan, Kelly, & Taylor aren't coming back. And G3s like Alex, Jack, Drew, Kennedy, Elliot, Cory, & every other boys name ever are on their way. It's a oneway boulevard of taken names. 

I learned to stop worrying and love my name a long time ago, but that doesn't mean I've forgiven Cissy Houston. I'd like to think that we could have an interesting conversation about her impressive musical career when we meet, but we'd have to avoid how she single-handedly turned my uncommon male name into a run-of-the-mill girl's name. 

Topics we could discuss: her time spent performing under her maiden name Drinkard, the ups & downs of Newark, who she likes more—Whitney or Dionne, Bobby.

Still Not as Bad as Improper Recycling

Despite my habit of regularly getting out of town, I really do like the city of Madison. There's plenty of "60 sq. miles surrounded by reality" naysayers out there who rant against Madison's leftist politics, but it's hard to see their point when the city is always getting ranked as a great place to live, has the lowest unemployment rate in the state, provides pretty extensive municipal services, and has a great public education system. Not to mention how much people from Madison tend to love living in Madison. And really, if you're going for a derogatory nickname you might as well use "The People's Republic Of Madison", it sounds more menacing. That being said, there are two surefire ways to hear me rant against the city.

Parking

Madison doesn't actually have a parking problem. Maybe it's because downtown is stuck on a ¾ mile wide isthmus which precludes the archetypal Midwestern city's wide airy streets that makes people think  it does, but it doesn't. Regardless of that, and despite the ridiculously cheap parking ramps scattered around downtown, people still complain about the lack of parking. None of that bothers me though; I hate it when I can't find a spot right in front of the place I'm driving someone's car to also. This is what pisses me off:

Are you getting a load of that spot's dimensions‽ That CR-V may well be an SUV for beginners, but it's no Smart Car either; it shouldn't look comically small in a parking spot. I'm 100% positive I could park another one of them in there with only minimal bumpage. It's like the city designed all of its metered parking stock to make sure it's prepared for the unlikely eventuality of the entire metropolitan area's populace deciding to sell their Priuses and buy F-350s. Not in the PRoM. Add to that the excessive use of yellow curbs throughout the city and sometimes I get a little rant-y about it all. Take this classic Madison Double Yellow for example [see below]. Why there's a need for 5 feet of yellow curb between every two oversized parking spots all the way down the street I do not understand. Let me repaint the parking lines downtown and I guarantee at least a 68% increase in total parking spots.

View Larger Map

Annoyance level: -4 Ws

Height Limitations

In addition to it's pretty good politics, Madison has a pretty good looking state capital too. It's all white and get's lit up at night and is apparently the largest granite dome in the world. The badger atop Lady Wisconsin's head sits 284 feet above the ground, which makes it the tallest building in the city. That's largely a result of state and city's rules limiting buildings within a 1 mile radius of the capital to the height of the base of the columns supporting the dome. Which in practice means the Madison skyline consists of 1 big white dome, completely surrounded by 187.2 foot high buildings.

It's all in the name of preserving sight lines, which I think is idiotic. A couple of tall buildings nearby are not going to block out the view of the capital.  And it's not like you have to give up all control over what gets built. There's still zoning commissions and design committees that every new construction project has to make it through. It wouldn't even have to be some big office building that sits empty all night. People want to live in downtown Madison; mix that use up and practice some of the sustainable, public transport oriented, anti-sprawl development you're always preaching. And get more than 1 bright white building in your skyline.

My feelings on this subject are clearly related to growing up in Philadelphia, which by the mid-1980s was the 5th most populous city in the country but still didn't let buildings get higher than the brim of Billy Penn's hat on top of city hall. Then people realized that didn't really make any sense and One Liberty Place got built in 1987. Then over the next 20 years 7 more supra-City Hall buildings got built. City Hall continued to be visible from almost every direction, downtown was completely revitalized, and Philadelphia ended up with a real skyline. Suck on that Madison.

Annoyance level: -3 Ws

[Philadelphia 1976 v. Philadelphia 2008]

Red Light, Blue Light

Rather than dye eggs like we did last Easter I watched Jesus Camp today instead. It's creepy, and not just because of the prominently featured rat-tail. I hope J.C. is down with me saying that on his big day. Some things I learned:

• The devil wants your PowerPoint to fail; praying may prevent this from happening.
• Nestlé packages The Water of God's Word in convenient 1/2 liter bottles.
• It sucks to look like Harry Potter at Jesus Camp.

Also, homeschooling is exactly how I always pictured it, as shown by this fun scene where the kid-preacher/rat-tail grower and his mom learn to explore creation with physical science together.

Homeschool Mom: "If you look at creationism, you'll realize it's the only possible answer to all the questions."

Rat-tail: "That's exactly what dad said."

HM: "It's the only possible answer to all the questions."

RT: "Oh, yeah."

HM: "Oh yeah. Did you get to the part on here where it says that science doesn't prove anything? It's really interesting when you look at it that way."

RT: "It is?" 

HM: "It is."

Luckily, I had some eggs-in-a-holes and the Sunday crossword to keep my spirits up. And when Jesus Crazy finished, V For Vendetta was on tv. Which was strange for two reasons: first, because eggs-in-a-holes/eggy-in-a-baskets are featured (vaguely) in the film. And secondly, because I noticed for the first time that the bug-jamming device in V is just a Snuggie booklight fitted with a creepy red light. Others got there before me.

We Accept Types ♳ - ♹

We all know I have a thing for bad recyclers; I like them only slightly more than non-recyclers. How ironic then that I've been living with one for the past 2 years. I don't know why it's so hard for Martin to grasp the basic do's and don't's of Madison's single stream recycling program but I've gotten used to giving our bag of recycling a quick once over before taking it out; just to make sure there aren't any balls of dirty tinfoil, grease soaked cardboard, or egg shells hiding out in there.

[No Hamtub recycling?]

As it turns out, it's not just Martin. Last week, after tossing in a bag full of 40s, champagne bottles, and orange juice cartons I noticed an entire broom in the recycling dumpster. I'm still deciding where the most effective place to post my passive-aggressive note explaining the non-recyclability of wood and wicker would be. 

Someone was really on a roll with their anti-recycling progrom though because while I was in there fishing out the broom I found their half-full jug of bleach too. Also not recyclable. In fact, hazardous waste.

A few other things to keep in mind while disposing in Madison:

Sm'ked H'ck'ry

I got back from 12 days in California Monday. Madison was nice enough to welcome me home with some light snow, 10° weather, and a bag still stuck in Minneapolis for the night. Luckily, what Madison did not have waiting for me was an Original Hick'ry Pit. That fact is currently my favorite thing about this city.

David and I made the unfortunate decision to walk into this elided crap-basket Sunday night because we were moderately curious about what was going on in there. We should have known better. If its Bayside color scheme wasn't a big enough tip-off, the single digit dinner crowd should have been. This restaurant is not recommended for anyone who likes meat, vegetables, non-downtrodden ambiance, or who has not successfully completed a course in Algebra I. Before I tell you about our "dinning"experience, I'd like to share some reviews I've found on the interwebs with you:

The Campbell Reporter, 1999

That quote needs to be flipped and reversed, Missy Elliot style.

Next up we've got Bobby U. Despite his endearing photo and charming tagline he's an idiot. That food comes so quick because it doesn't take long to open up a can and dump it onto some poor John's plate. And who thinks that wood smoked meat soup sounds good anyway? I'm mostly sorry for his family. 

Angela L.- there's nothing crowded, or tender, in that place except for that waitress's surprisingly well-kept stern end. 

Yes, Nichole W., that dried out pork loin and salmon hued tri-tip... if only the portions were larger.

And now for some good news:

That James C., is exactly what we said.

What‽*

* That's an interrobang. Use it; love it.

You stay classy, Rochester.

In response to an article in TIME™ about Ben Stein's new pro-Intelligent Design movie Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed:

If you accept the theory of evolution, you accept that our genetic makeup, physical appearance and brain capacity are all related to our endeavor to survive and reproduce. Plants did not need legs to survive, and fish did not need hands. Humans, on the other hand, have a sophisticated brain that far exceeds what they need to survive and reproduce. I would like to see scientists research the brain capacity that various species need. If humans alone have evolved with capacities that far exceed what they essentially need, then intelligent design needs to be part of the story for us humans.
-Allen A. Platt, ROCHESTER, N.Y.

No matter how often I see and hear this shit it still pisses me off. What, is there some perfect evolutionary balance point where an organism can just barely survive, but not thrive, that humans have violated? Umm, its called survival of the fittest, not survival of the mediocre, for a reason assbutt.

Editorializing

Screw you William Kristol. I get it that you're supposed to be the Right Wing Guy at the Times, the Anit-Dowd if you will. You get paid to bait liberals just like she gets paid to make up insulting names for conservatives. And you're great at it, even while passive-aggressively electioneering for one of the Democratic candidates. So thank you William for continuing to embiggen the political debate with little gems like this:

But we also see the liberal media failing to give Hillary Clinton the respect she deserves. So, since we conservatives believe in giving credit where credit is due, it falls to us to praise Hillary.

Douche.

I don't like people who think things that I don't like.

Yes, that's correct. If you believe something that I find repulsive or stupid, I judge you for it. I don't like people who don't believe in evolution, I don't like people who are worried about losing the Christ from Christmas, I don't like people who want to outlaw abortion, I don't like people who drive Hummers to their suburban office, I don't like people who don't recycle, I don't like people who think they should be gauranteed the right to own a semi-automatic weapon, I don't like people who abuse children and/or animals, I don't like people who discriminate against the blacks, the jews, the irish, the gays, the womyn, or the Fijian. I also don't like people who think that

a world in which all individuals are sovereign over their own lives and no one is forced to sacrifice his or her values for the benefit of others

is an ideal place to live. Sorry, but sometimes the good of the whole (be it family, neighborhood, community, state, country, or world) really does outweigh reasonable limitations on your, my, and his rights.

For example, I believe that part of a government's responsibility to its citizens should be access to decent health care. Regardless of whether you happen to have been born in inner city Baltimore, rural Kansas, or Northbrook, IL. Likewise to education. They're basic human rights, and I think it's reprehensible to advocate a system in which they would be provided for soley on a for-profit basis. I'll never be able to understand why it's ok to earn money from the basic education of children, or respect someone who does. And really, having all school systems run off of user fees? Do you really think that the only people who benefit from a well educated society are those who are currently enrolled in school? Education of a community's citizens benefits the community as a whole, and should be paid for by the community as a whole. With taxes.

Then there's the whole trash issue. Have you even been to a country without municipal trash collection? Do you really think that people working low wage jobs don't deserve access to trash collection? Or that a fully integrated, efficient transportation network could ever be built without some type of centralized agency for coordinating large-scale infrastructure projects. Again, have you been to places without one?

I also know that there are huge inequalities in this country. And I don't believe that simply breaking free from the shakles of the "omnipotent state" gives a poor black kid from New Orleans the same opportunities as a well-off, well-educated, well-cared for white kid. I know how the argument goes— smart, motivated, individuals will succeed in any environment; so the rich will deserve their money because of all the hard work they've done, and the poor, well they obviously just didn't try hard enough. Bullshit. Coincidently, as far as I can tell I've never met a self-identifying Libertarian who's not from an upper-middle class suburb.

So that's why I really had something I needed to talk about. The stated goals of the Libertarian Party, as I understand them, are to achieve a society that I find morally offensive. And I wanted to know if I was riding in a car with one. After a discussion, I was satisfied that I was in fact riding in a car with someone who happened to agree with Libertarians on some issues (like having less government interference in drug, abortion, & marriage regulations) but not on the ones that really define Libertarianism as a movement. That is to say: just because you want to decriminalizing marjijuana and prostitution, allow gay marriage, or whatever other personal freedom was the topic du jour does not mean that you're a Libertarian. And it definitely doesn't require the wholesale dismantling of government services that is central the Libertarians platform.

Why is this different than Socialism? Sure, they both may be unrealistic in their purest form, but at least Socialism starts from values with which I agree. Things like citizens in a community bearing a shared responsibility for one another's well-being and workers deserving to share in the distribution of wealth from their work.

So, if you want to not be a Democrat or a Republican, that's fine. It seems like you could find a better label for yourself than Libertarian though, you know, one that actually conveys the values you believe in. Actually, please find a better label for yourself than Libertarian because, like my 9th grade geometry teacher always said, making assumptions makes an ass out of you.

Sweatering In Blue

Sweater Thursday came as a surprise to me this morning. I woke up in a hurry because I had to finish grading my students' last homework of the semester and then get them entered online before my first section at 9:55. I would have finished this last night but Jobonga called me. And despite her claiming on numerous occasions that she didn't have anything else to say to me, we actually had a lot to talk about. Some highlights: Libertarians are disturbing, especially since they're usually well-off white kids from the suburbs; someecards has a card for every occasion, remember that next time you wish to express something/anything; I'm not a huge fan of christ, specifically if you list him as one of your interests on Facebook; Boston = New Year's '08.

Anyway, the point is I was in a rush this morning, what with entering grades and having to walk to school through 2 feet of (mostly shoveled) snow because the bus never runs on time. I ended up with this blue vee neck, which I like, but which has a few moth holes in it. In this picture, while home for lunch, I contemplate my next Scrabulous move.

De Brasserie Douche Zac

That's Dutch for The Douche Bag Brasserie. This place opened up down the street recently, so last night Martin, Yana, and I paid it a visit. As we walked out later that night my first words were, "that was the highest concentration of pretension I've been around in a long time." Which is surprisingly ironic because today as I began to write this blog I looked up Brasserie V online, only to see that featured prominently at the top of their site is this definition:

bras-se-rie (brās ′ Ə -ře′) an unpretentious restaurant, tavern, or the like, that serves drinks, esp. beer, and simple or hearty food.

The problems started for me when the bar tender, or perhaps he would prefer bierista, asked as we walked in the door if we were going to be having beer or wine. In general, at places that are supposed to have large selections of both, I like to see what my options are. Apparently we should have been thinking about this on the way over though so we could answer promptly as we entered. So, after bringing both a beer and wine list bierista offers to let us sample any of the beers before we choose, but only if we can pronounce them correctly. This is the first point of the night in which I thought: douche bag. It was by no means the last. Specifically we were told how he "just can't stand it when people pronounce Hoegaarden wrong. I upped my judgement from douche bag to Skoczen's favorite douche box. The über-academic graduate student from the German department sitting nearby at the bar quickly joined in, eagerly stating his disgust with poorly pronounced Dutch beer names too. He is precisely the reason why people don't like graduate students. Now, Hoegaarden is actually originally from Flanders which is part of Belgium, but where they speak Flemish, which is part of de Dutch. And that brings up a good point. Not only do neither of these pretentious lecturers on Germanic pronunciation not speak Dutch (or Flemish), but they also had no idea who they were talking to, namely a girl who's lived her whole life in Germany, a guy who was born there and is still fluent, and a linguist who knows his phonetics and phonology.

Once the German connection is made of course the tediously predictable Twenty-Something self-embiggenment begins with the places they've been, the people they've seen, the odysseys they've been on, the foreign lands they've fallen in love with. Demonstrating the advanced nature of grad student's douchery, this is all conducted in German. I take the opportunity to order a Corsendonk, which not only did I like the taste of but I really enjoyed saying too.

Later, as the airs of faux-worldliness began to die down, the barkeep attempted to find a beer Yana would like. She asked for something dark. He came back with 3 amber colored beers, all pronounced as too sweet. This, as with the rest of her judgments, I found to be a reasonable criticism. He poured 3 more, slightly darker this time. Also too sweet. "Wait", he says, "I know just what you want." A legitimately dark beer arrives, and is rejected promptly as too watery. Mr. Belgian Beer is clearly distraught by his underperforming Belgian beers. I enjoy this moment. Finally he opens a bottle of something that is deemed acceptable, although overly liquoricey, and he moves his attention to other customers.

We enjoy our beers, we order a cheese plate. The cheese is good (and includes a new variety to me, idiazábel) but isn't amazing. The nuts that come with the cheese are tasty though. We ask about them, and the description begins as such: "Well they're almonds, obviously; and they're toasted, obviously;
and then we throw in a little butter, that's clarified butter, but just a bit, I mean literally just a few drops... " He goes on, and the pretension goes on with him.

To top off the evening, before leaving we hear a guy sitting behind us make the claim that humans will soon be loosing their finger nails. This, as he explains to the rest of his hip-ish table, is surely to happen soon because nails no longer serve a purpose (obviously) and we will thus promptly be evolving to a nail-less state. Right, because there's absolutely nothing wrong with that statement. Douche Bag.

And on the 8th day, God played Scrabble®...

I found myself in need of a picture of a Scrabble board this morning. As such I set out on Google Images and soon came across this blog post. It's upsetting that such a nice Scrabble board had to be ruined by such an poorly reasoned faux-argument against evolution. I went on to read another post by this woman claiming that human childbirth is proof of intelligent design. Or at least I assume that's what's she's trying to argue for. The amazing thing about this post is that it somehow managed to be even more nonsensical than her Scrabble/DNA analogy. This is sad, but impressive. Thankfully some guy, Matthew Goggins, seems to have made a habit of commenting on these blogs and presenting an actual evolutionary explanation for blestwithsons' proposed conundrums. I do enjoy how the claims of a 'young earth' die off immediately once someone who actually has some idea of how evolution works says something. I do not enjoy how blestwithsons really thinks that she's making some good points.

Of Sunglasses, but more importantly, a snake in the grass.

Umm, Darcy. Let's try out those brakes on the old Hypocrisy Highway. Your post here is both disingenuous and flippant. First of all I seem to remember a certain height-challenged American in Lisbon not wanting to buy said sunglasses. More importantly, if not for the pressure applied by yours truly you would never have tried on the sunglasses that you now seem to use as your ticket to the cool, hip, and trendy in the first place. That's right, I found them, I made you try them on, I convinced you that you looked good in them, I made you buy them, I even invited you to Portugal. So sorry, you are not invited to the hip parade, you do not pass GO, and you do not collect $200.


Oh, and while it is true that I have an array of $5 sunglasses at my disposal, I will be traveling with only two pairs in California: one Diesel, the other Nautica, both of which I'll be flossin' from the front seat as we're driving down the 101 with the top down. Let me know how those hot Portuguese lookers work out for you in the back seat.

Absentee Voting

Today's topic is absentee voting, and more importantly the ballots upon which it is done. Absentee ballots piss me off for at least two reasons. First, it means that I'm not going to be voting in person on election day. Which means I don't get to chat up the nice old ward ladies, and they're always excited to see a young face. Especially a really attractive one. Second, I've come to realize that absentee ballots are specifically designed to eliminate as many possible votes as possible. The trick with Phila. ballots is all in the folding. After completing the ballot, printed on heavy stock oversized paper, you then are required to fit it into the return envelope. While this may sound easy enough, it actually requires fairly precise folding. Because the return envelope is a completely different size than the envelope the ballot arrives in, you have no creases to guide you, every fold must be a new one (and remember: heavy stock paper). The other complication arises after you realize just how small the return envelope actually is. Not only is it the length and width that are important, but the depth as well. In the end a rather precise fold is necessary in order to fit the thing in length and width wise while still being able to actually seal the envelope.

The Madison ballot is actually much more straight forward. Its intricacies come first from mastering the use of the thinnest pencil ever made. After that you just have to follow the 2 pages of instructions, all in the presence of a witness, who while able to see the ballot, cannot actually see how you are voting; quite a precise arrangement of objects. Then discard the pencil.

So, the question is: are these just examples of bad designs wrought by bloated bureaucracy, or deliberate attempts to disadvantage to the clumsy and spatially handicapped? I don't care, but god damn if I'm going to discard the pencil.

You know what I hate? Gay beer pong rules. Which really means gay Beirut rules, but I think I've finally gotten over that. Last night, as David and I dominated the table at an undergrad party, some shithead claimed that on the rebuttal each person gets to shoot until they miss. As opposed to both partners having to make it in on their first shot. Now, I understand that everybody has their own rules for Beirut. And one could argue that that is part of the excitement of playing in different locales. House rules, do have to be given their due respect. Even if they are gayer than my mom 4 years ago. Anyway we dominated, despite having rules made up for us on the fly. The highlight, possibly of my life, was during the 3rd over-time. Having been on an off streak, I made the last cup. At this point I lost my mind and tackled David through a closed door.