3rd leg
Ward, it's about the Beave...

Thursday, March 06, 2003


Before breaking up the little testosterone tiff over at the Ward, I'd like to take an opportunity to comment on comments.

Not unlike any Blogger, I cherish when a reader takes a couple of miliseconds to react, and share a little feedback through my crappy HaloScan commenting tool. I do read every comment, and more importantly, sometimes my eyes are opened to other blogs I otherwise would have continued to sleep on. Some blogs that you shouldn't sleep on, and that may very well end up perma-linked on your left in the very near future, assuming I remember when I have a little free time:

Anti is down with Raymi, and is far from boring...

Trevor doesn't have breasts, but I'll bet he's seen Alecia's. And if he hasn't, well, he's just not trying hard enough---even if he is "just a friend"...

I have no idea what Ham Fisted Theatrics means. Seriously...

Creativity isn't the problem, but I think only seeing one post at a time is. Maybe it's just me...

And hopefully this is One Slightly Alternative Looking Sexy Bartender who hasn't suffered embarrassing side effects from anal experimentation. Even though she can't spell 'Pacino', she sips Red Bull through a straw, and is down with Rushmore and Big Brother, which means she'd be down with me...

Now about Ryan and Greg... They need to squash it, but before they do a couple of notes. First, don't be airing your dirty laundry in front of your readers. This forces us to either take sides, or else think you're both being a couple of touchy, feely, littlle bey-otches. Not unlike the whiny, two-faced, overly sensitive chicks from Sorority Life.

Secondly, you're both wrong, so get over it. You each spend way too much time with your 'girlfriends', or at least talking/thinking about them, and need to realize that you have the rest of your lives to be domesticated. College is about kickin' it with your boys. I will be shocked, absolutely shocked if either of you end up walking down the aisle and exchanging vows with the women you're currently with. Don't take that personally---but centuries of inter-gender statistical data will back me on this one (Unless either of you is like Ferris Bueller's boy Cameron and destined to be with their 'first'---I'm hoping that's not the case). So, shame on you if you let a little tail get between you. Realize this comment has absolutely nothing to do with your work/school responsibilities. There's still plenty of time to take care of business.

Thirdly, you're freakin' guys. Guys don't have to be formally invited somewhere, and guys don't get their panties in a bunch when they're not. Guys don't have to be reminded that a dude's 21st birthday, and the days leading up to and following, is worth dropping nearly everything for. Hence my modest cash contribution.



In other words, get over it. Redirect that bad taste in each of your mouths at Raymi or Iraq...

Otherwise let's stop talking, put on the gloves and start swinging. As opposed to The Real World's Alton who talks big about dancing only to step outside to back-pedal...

Finally, I don't want to read either of you commenting telling me I don't know "the whole story" or to "butt out of it", because being the neutral, arbitrating 3rd party is exactly what this situation requires. And you can always have Faith (is she wearing drawers?), that I'm eternally prepared to be the sage voice of reason.

Now, as you were...





Terrorist or Porn Star?

Tuesday, March 04, 2003


Are you ready for the next big thing in reality television game show programming?... It's a little thing I like to call Terrorist or Porn Star.

It's simple really, see if you can figure out which of these two dudes is a terrorist, and which of them is a porn star...

Ready? Set? Go!!!

1.


2.


Too Quiet

Monday, March 03, 2003


Are you like me? Can you believe America voted cute little Nikki off I’m a Celebrity! Get Me Out of Here!??? I know, I know I’m the only one watching…

Today’s temperature will reach nearly 50 degrees, and by week’s end it will no doubt dip back to single digits. A disparity that serves as the most contributing factor to the sinus pressure I’m currently suffering through and threatening to leave me permanently cross-eyed. I’ve stopped reading the directions on my over-the-counter cold medications and am now simultaneously taking Advil, Motrin and Tylenol as they were each proving individually ineffective.

So, I’m doing a little blog-bumping this morning, and find that the Goose is cooping himself up for a while, Tony has bedded yet another 18-year old, Greg and Ryan still haven’t recovered from their Everclear weekend, Ranger Matt can post pics yet still hasn’t published images from Tom’s 21st and most importantly Mad Pony’s Lauren (on the right) is 16 today.





Starting with my 16th, I’ve spent parts of every one of my successive birthdays either on a golf course, in a strip club, or in a bar… and on my favorite birthdays, a healthy combination of all three. Somehow I’ll bet Lauren doesn’t follow quite the same path. Let’s just hope she always wears her seatbelt.

I’m beginning to think that the reason some of my favorite blogs are going temporarily silent from time to time is due to the misguided notion of the college student that one must buckle down for a couple of weeks before they can completely enjoy their Spring Break. I could offer you my sage advice on collegiate time management principles or I could futilely try to convince you how unimportant GPAs are in the Real World, but instead I’ll share some of my favorite Spring Break memories with you during the month of March.

I went to Panama City, Florida twice, and South Padre Island, Texas twice, each time with no less than 5 heterosexual males almost as attractive, witty and charming as myself.

Today’s story takes place in South Padre. I’m 18 and only a couple of days past my first experience with a weird smelling, green leafy substance. So I’m out on my hotel balcony talking with this cute blonde. I’ve been drinking keg beer for about 16 hours straight but I’m apparently still able to string words together to make intelligible phrases. One of us suggests that the other meets them on the beach the next day, and the other finds that to be a grand idea.

The next day comes around, and one of my fraternity brothers points out the chick from the previous night before she sees us and heads our way. The problem is she has the strangest looking walk I have ever seen. If you can imagine a flamingo with a wedgie on very hot sand, you’re close.

And because I was an immature, alochol-impaired 18 year old surrounded by too much testosterone, I said, "Screw this, let’s get out of here" and proceeded to successfully avoid this very strange walking, albeit somewhat cute girl for the remainder of the week…




Tomorrow, can we please have a little more freakin' go-go Brynn? Is that really too much to ask MTV???





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