Random Rambles

Though the weekend was filled with shananigans, I unfortunately ended it without a decent story to blog about. I was tempted to write about the girl who both spit on me and called me ugly within a 5 minute time span, but I've already verbally told that story to the only people who really read this blog anyway - Ryan and my parents.

So instead, I will use this post to discuss a few things which have been on my mind, but do not warrant a full entry to themselves.

Double Dipping - No, I'm not talking about that half eaten nacho that would taste so much better if you could just sneak in one last dip in the salsa. I'm talking about wearing the same shirt twice in one week. This use to be a huge no no for me as I was guaranteed to run into the same girls throughout the course of the week. Even though these run-ins may have only lasted a minute or two, it was not a chance I could take. But since graduating college, I'm spending nights all over the place - thursdays in the city, fridays in the burbs, saturdays at someones house. Its great...I've realized I can wear my favorite shirt (black button down from H&M)as many times as I want. It's like I have chips and salsa all to my self. I can double dip without thinking twice. Heck, I can even quadruple dip. Plus, the only people who see me more than once during a weekend are my close group of friends. If one of them decides to point it out I'll just call them gay and that will be the end of the discussion.

Email Valedicitons - What ever happened to the sincerely's and the best regards? Saying farewell at the end of an email has turned into a free for all. People seriously think they can get away with adding -ly to any word and its an acceptable sign-off. It really drives me crazy. To get back at all of them, I'm going to start using the word of the day as my goodbye. According to dictionary.com today's word is cynosure (http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/). Imagine this email:

Hey Tom,

It was great getting out on the golf course with you. Sorry again for laughing when you fell off the cart and broke your wrist. And sorry also for not believing you when you said it was broken. We should do it again sometime. Tell Marge I said hi.

Cynosurely,

-Scott.

Facebook Quizzes - If you're ever curious how much free time someone has on their hands, go check how many facebook quizzes they've taken in the past week. If it's above two, you can be pretty sure they either A)were home sick B)are a 7-year old girl or C)live a boring life and have no self control. A facebook quiz exists for pretty much everything these days. There's one for what car you'd drive, what entourage character you are, and what fruit most resembles your personality. There's even one that tells you what percentage white or black you are - wow, thats not offensive. A certain ex-girlfriend recently announced on an unnamed social networking site that she took a quiz entitled "The name of the person you will marry" and got "Scott" as her answer. No joke. It wasn't really the answer that surprised me. It was the fact that she let everyone know about it. For some reason the Carolina Liar song, "I'm Not Over", popped into my head. Also, I know she hasn't been home sick in awhile so I guess that leaves one of two options. For my sake, I'm hoping for option C.

A Recap of Yesternight's Winning Convos

Last night wasn't anything special. But i took pleasure in a few particular conversations. In all reality, my brain is only functioning at 3% today, and repeating conversations seems like a good way to get another post up without much effort.



Set up: My couch
Breezy: Dude it would suck to be a girl and have a period.
Me: Seriously
Breezy: What's the traffic looking like on I-76
Me: Let me check....OK, her flow is looking pretty good.
Breezy: Gross

Set up: A group of us are in the outdoor area of the bar.
Daewoo: What beers are on special tonight?
Waitress: $3 miller lites and PBRs
Me: Wait, the bartender said it was $1 PBRs. Are you new here or something?
Waitress: That's just what they told me, I'm sorry.
10 minutes later
Breezy: What time is the incubus ticket giveaway?
Waitress: It's happening at midnight.
Me: Then why does it look like that radio guy is pulling out a name now?
Waitress: Oh..umm..yea..I guess they are doing it now
Me: Strike two
Usually after banter like this with a waitress it would be easy to get her number. But if her waitressing abilities are any indication of what kind of person she is, I want nothing to do with her or her number.

Radio Guy: Hey, I'm really sorry you guys didn't win the incubus tickets and the miller lite VIP passes in which you'd be able to consume as much beer as you liked. But here, have this SAW trilogy DVD.
Daewoo: Are you kidding me??

Set up: At the bar I strategically position myself next to a cute blonde. The bartender is making her mixed drinks.
Me: They always skimp on the liquor don't they.
Blondie: Yes! It's so annoying
Me: Why don't you just get beer?
Blondie: All they have for $1 is PBR but the only beer I drink is yuengling.
Me: You sound picky. Picky and cheap. But I like your choice in beer
Blondie: Well...uh...thanks. That's why I never go to frat parties...the beer is like water and the guys are just as tasteless.
Me: Yeeeeaaaaa

Set up: Daewoo and myself are sitting on my porch. A girl, hereby referred to as Dumb Girl, who had attempted to verbally harass us a few hours ago walks by.
Daewoo: Hey you, what are you looking at?!?!
Dumb Girl: Shut up!
Daewoo: Come up here
For some reason this girl actually listens and comes up to the porch.
Daewoo: Look at your sandals. What they heck are they. Are you trying to be Egyptian or something?
Dumb Girl: Ugh! You are such a racist.
She storms away.
Daewoo: What kind of racist am I?!?!

Capital Offense

Washington DC: our nations capital - where laws are made, national decisions executed, and where our history resides. It's also where lies are told, where bums overrun the streets, and where husbands cheat on their wives. As you might suspect, I'm not a huge fan of the District. But when my dad planned an impromptu family trip to the Air and Space museum this past weekend, I put my feelings aside (that doesn't happen to0 often) and figured spending some time with the fam would be a good change of pace.

On the way down we hit major traffic on 95 south. For those who don't know me well, i feel a certain connection with this road. We have a bond. And it hurt that it didn't forewarn me of the impending sea of brake lights. Coming to a complete standstill, I grab my dad's iPhone to find an alternate route. 1 hour and 8 roads later I had a new found hatred for the iPhone map application firmly cemented in my head. Sure, it has GPS and a traffic tracker. But if it doesn't have a suspiciously sexy woman with a British accent telling me exactly where to go, I'll stick to the old school paper maps.

We roll into the Chinatown section of DC around 9:30pm and immediately head to a restaurant - my dad and my sister so they can get proper nourishment; me to get proper alcoholic hydration. We get seated at a window booth which I'm very excited about since its such a great spot to people watch. But my excitement quickly turned to dread as I notice a bum sleeping on a bench approximately 8 feet from our window. Great...this is gonna be an easy meal to eat. I sip my beer, which I let the waitress pick out for me. Note to self: When in doubt stick with the basics - miller lite, bud light, and yuengling. This waitress' taste in beer is worse than bret michaels' choice in women. I'm concerned that she has some yet to be discovered oral disease which causes her palette to function like a feral dog's.

After dinner I drop my dad and sister off at the hotel and visit a friend who lives in Arlington. We go to a bar which use to be a auto body shop. It was actually kinda cool. The first thing I notice are the copious amounts of license plates lining the establishment. The second thing I notice is the staggering amount of attractive people. This confirms my pre-existing belief that if you travel outside of Philadelphia in any direction people become progressively more attractive. If you travel to the East, there's the added benefit of also becoming exponentially more trashy. Sadly, I am too wrapped up in reminisces of past fraternity shenanigans to formulate a decent plan of approach. I go to bed having relived years of past experiences but failing to create even one new story. This is not something I like to occur often.

My alarm goes off at 7:45. I had promised my Dad I'd be back by 8:15 and its about a 30 minute drive. No snooze button for this guy. I hustle out of my friends apartment, jump in the car, and head out onto I-66 West. Here's a timetable of the events that occured from that point on.

8:00am - After 15 minutes of doing 80 mph it hits me that I definitely should have seen my exit by now. I get off the highway, get back on, and slow my speed to 60 mph.

8:20am - I pass my friends exit. There's no way I missed the exit AGAIN. Maybe im just confused and its Route 234 instead of Route 267. That could make sense

8:30 - I head back west and get off on Route 234. This road has street signs and I specifically remember the correct road being a highway.

8:31 - I make an aggressive u-turn and get back on I-66 West.

8:35 - I call my Dad. His phone is off.

8:55 - BJ's wholesale on my right. Definitely don't remember that. I exit and get back on I-66 east.

8:57 - Call my dad again. His phone is still off. I try looking up the hotel's phone number on my blackberry. My phone dies. Manic yelling ensues.

9:05 - I decide to try another exit. Route 160. Desperation is kicking in.

9:06 - Street lights again. Damn it...I am officially lost in an unfamiliar city.

9:08 - Disregarding whatever manhood I have left, I leave my balls on the dashboard and get out at a gas station to ask directions.

9:10 - A biker gentleman tells me I need to keep on I-66 East and I will definitely hit Route 267. I feel like I'm going crazy.

9:25 - It starts to pour. I'd rather be navigating an underwater mine field without goggles than driving in this.

9:35 - I end up back at the Washington Monument...which is about 7 exits past my friends. I try and summon the spirits of Lincoln and Washington for guidance. It doesn't work.

9:45 - Back on I-66, I take an exit I've already taken before and pull into another gas station.

9:47 - The attendant finally says something that makes sense. The exit for Route 267 is actually the same exit for I-495 (which i passed like 8 times). I know exactly where it is! I think I might be saved!

9:55 - I take the exit for I-495 and badda bing badda boom, signs for 267. Why didn't they have these earlier?!?!

10:20 - I pull up to the hotel and do a Dale Earnhardt turn into the parking space. I see a police man outside. Oh no...my dad must have called the police after he couldn't get a hold of me. I mean I'm over 2 hours late. He must have thought I was lying in an ally somewhere...bruised and beaten...maybe even sexually abused.

10:22 - I walk past the cop and overhear him talking about a fender bender in the hotel parking lot. I guess the universe doesn't revolve around me.

10:25 - I walk in the hotel room and my dad and sister are watching TV. They just thought I had overslept.

We leave pretty much immediately for the Air and Space museum after I get back. I don't even have time to shower. But the museum turns out to be pretty cool and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. They even have a plane that flew from LA to DC in 1 hour 4 mins. Impressive, right? Here's a picture of it.


After a delicious lunch at Mcdonalds (interestingly the ONLY place to eat in the museum) we tour downtown DC for a bit and then hit the road. I never looked back.

DREXYWOOD

For those of you living in a very, very, deep and self-absorbed cave, there is currently a feature film being shot at Drexel University. The movie is untitled and no one knows exactly what it's about. But it stars Reese Witherspoon, Jack Nickolson, and Owen Wilson...so there can only be so many possible storylines.

The "headquarters" of the crew and the set is at a building called the Armory. No, there is not a stockpile of M-16s inside, but it is where Drexel's ROTC students do whatever it is that they do (all we know about them is they dress funny and typically smell of sweat, mud, and broken egos). Anyway, this fully demonstrates the screwed up priorities of our country. The university kicked out our country's reserve soldiers from their home base in order for a damn hollywood movie to be filmed. God help us if Mahmoud Ahmadinejad decides its time for a full out war with the west.

Even worse are all the trailers for the stars of the movie lined up and down the streets, causing approximately 86 near accidents a day. Its crossed my mind to visit these trailers late in the night and leave the stars a note or two. Here's a few potential ideas:

To Jack: "Is it emasculating to know that the same guy who had on screen sex with a man did a better performance as the Joker than you?"

To Owen: "On behalf of the Jewish community, thank you. you have single handedly proven that large, crooked noses are not specific to those of Jewish descent"

To Reese: "Please mother my child"

Having Hollywood come to Drexel isn't all bad though. The movie is doing wonders for the University's lunch truck community. I've never seen Lucky Star, Pete's Lunchbox, and Memos so busy during the summer. It wouldn't surprise me to see "Reese ate here" signs popping up in the near future.

The reality of a movie being filmed on Drexel's campus hit hard a few nights ago when Owen Wilson was spotted playing tennis on the Drexel courts. I was sitting in my living room watching the best show on TV - deadliest catch - when I get a text saying Owen Wilson is playing tennis at Drexel. Naturally, I threw my shoes on, grabbed my keys, and ran down to the courts. By the time I got there there was already a huge crowd assembled around the entire court. People watched from their porches. People climbed on their rooftops. I felt like I was at Wimbledon. But no...all this excitement was for a second rate, frat pack movie star who tried to kill himself on more than one occasion. Like does someone who has starred next to Jackie Chan and Eddie Murphy really deserve this much attention? I soon realized how ridiculous this scene was and at how quickly I had become apart of it. So, I returned home, ashamed, and put on Entertainment Tonight in hopes of being exposed to some real stars. But I did find a few pictures of Owen's tennis match on facebook the next day. So here they are, compliments of Monica Thompson, whoever she is.





I think the only way to end this entry is with a quote from Owen himself regarding his acting ability:

"I`m not going to play a guy with MS or a guy in a wheelchair. I can play a dramatic character, certainly, but I`m not the real chameleon-type actor who, you know, changes his voice and everything."

A Pointless Video

Enjoy

A Quick Note on the Most Ridiculous People Alive

Who are they? Engaged women on their bachlorette party...and all their friends, especially the married ones. They have no limits, no morals, no sense of public interest. Usually it's the women that give their soon-to-be husband a verbal lynching before the poor soul embarks on his last night of "freedom". But after the two bachelorette parties myself and my group of friends saw this weekend, I realized this was just a cover-up so the bride-to-be could act as outlandish and irresponsible as Doug from the Hangover.

The first party I ran into was at a club in Old City. There was about 8 girls in the group and not one of them was dressed like a normal human being. One looked like she had just gotten back from a face painting convention. Another had a forearm sized light-up bowling pin around her neck (I asked her what it was for and her response was "baaaaaalls". I immediately exited her general area). But the bride-to-be took the cake. She had on some assembly of clothing that resembled a cracked-out homeless ex-stripper from the 80's. All I can say is that it made my eyes burn.

After getting some degrading comments in, we decided it was time to leave and made our way to a bar down the street. We walk in and guess what...thats right, another bachelorette party. Though they were dressed like normal people, I soon realized it was only a disguise. This group made the first party look like Rhodes Scholars. They danced like it was their last night on earth and that Michael Jackson (too soon?) would be meeting them at the pearly gates. At one point one of the girls dropped a martini glass on the floor and it shattered. Without an ounce of shame she threw her clenched fist in the air and screamed "wooooooo". Her friends also joined in on the war cry. It was intense. Mel Gibson would be proud. But me...I was officially scared. These girls had no rules. They lived above the law.

After making my rounds through the bar I spotted the bride. She was right in between the two married girls who were kissy kissy with people I may or may not have been associated with. To my surprise, she seemed to be the most normal of the group. She even had a cute little vail on. I started walking up to congratulate her when i noticed that there were little unidentified objects stuck in her vail. She turned too quickly and i wasn't able to tell what these objects were. So, like the gentleman that i am, I go up to her and say,

"excuse me, I think there is something stuck in your vail".
"hehe, oh you mean these?" She turns around to display her vail.
I choke on my beer. I'm staring at at least 15 little penises hooked on to the one piece of cloth that is suppose to be a symbol of innocence and beauty! What the heck is this. I know her fiance sure as hell didn't approve of this.
"why are you wearing that"
"oh you know. its funny. my friends got it for me"
"your friends sound classy"

The entire time we talked I wondered how much I would pay her bridesmaid to switch the real vail with the penis vail on her wedding day. The in-laws faces would be priceless. Soon after the conversation me and my group of friends left with a new fear and respect for the unpredictable women of marriage. Lucky for us we did not run into any more bachelorette parties. If I ever see one again I will probably do a nice paced jog in the opposite direction.



My concluding remarks:

If what I've seen of bachelorette parties is true, I might have to let my girlfriends set up my bachelor party.

Married men spend a significant amount of time with their homeboys, but typically keep their emotions on the inside. Eventually they will suffer from a serious emotional meltdown, most likely directed at their wife. On the other hand, Married women talk about their emotions on a fairly regular basis, but keep all that "girls night out" energy bottled up. But when they do go out, its a meltdown...and most likely directed at every man except the one she's married to.

I am hiring a private investigator for my fiance's (i love you, whoever you are)bacherolette party. A slideshow of his findings will be shown at the wedding.

A Variety of Mediocre Happenings

It hasn't necessarily been the most exciting two days, but they certainly have not been dull.

Thursday Afternoon (morning in unemployed verbiage) - Josh and I decide that we need haircuts and lucky for us, we had recently purchased a hair cutting kit from CVS (complete with 8 different settings!). I shave josh's head first and i must say, it looked spectacular. I set the bar pretty high for josh, but he hardly even got off the ground. This confirmed my already existing belief that people over 200 pounds should not be allowed to cut hair. Think about it, would you want someone with Michelin man hands holding a sharp object three inches from your head? I mean maybe if you're into S&M and therefore an inferior human being, but most of us normals would be afraid to lose an ear. And lets be honest,loosing an ear by way of scissors definitely wouldnt be as cool as getting it mike tysoned. I ended up shaving my own head. It kinda felt like i was an mighty warrior with equally strong moral character getting ready to fight for some cause i deeply believed in. Apparently that cause was Real World reruns on MTV.

Thursday Night - Myself and Ryan go to the TLA for an event called Amsterdam Live. I heard about it on philly2night.com, a site where frat boys and drunk sluts go to figure out evening activities in the greater Philadelphia area. I usually avoid events like this but the claim of free amstel light was too much to pass up. I had to see if it was true. and indeed it was. It would have been priceless to see the look on the guys face who came up with the saying "nothing in life is free" as I was pounding down my 7th "complimentary" beer.
After about an hour of standing awkwardly, two amstel light girls, one white and one asian, come up to us and ask to take a picture. The asian gets in the middle and the white girl takes the picture. I see them repeat this process a number of times with similar groups of guys, all with the asian in the middle. I feel bad for the white girl. I doubt she is taking the pictures because she was a photography major. It must be hard to compete with busty asians.
The first band comes on. Its someone I've never heard of before - Mr. Hudson and the Library. But damn, they are killing it and their lyrics are really hitting me hard. Like I'm getting emotional. I give Ryan a hug
While the band was playing, an asian kid with a three foot high mohawk starts breakdancing. he's good. really good. and i hate him for it. i hate him because he's one of those kids that always has to be the center of attention. i hate him more because he gets that attention so easily.
The next band comes on. I want to kill myself. The lead singer is a 40 yr old female, red hair, with saggy everything. She is wearing what looks like a mix between a little red riding hood costume and a dominatrix outfit. They play some song about taking off your clothes and she jumps in the audience and tries to make people undress. Im pretty sure crap like this was going on in Gomorrah right before fire and brimstone destroyed it all. I gotta hand it to her though...she was able to make some 300 pound black dude take his shirt off. it was one of those situations where EVERYONE in the room is embarrassed. Ryan and I chug our beers and quickly exit the building.

Friday Morning - Decision time for me. Do I go to Widener Law School and expose myself to the State of Delaware (or Hell for short) or do I go to Drexel Law and suffer through another 3 years of being a Dragon. Money is the root of all evil and apparently its also the root of all decision making. Drexel gave me more money so the choice wasn't too difficult. At least I'll still have a shot at bumping into that cute pre-junior I always saw at the library. Maybe now that I'm a law student she will talk to me.

Friday Night - Ryan comes over to watch the phillies and we start drinking beer. The game gets rain delayed so I do what I always do when its just me and ryan drinking together - start texting ex-girlfriends outlandish things. I know its not right, but it makes things more interesting and makes me feel loved
Around midnight we head down to New Deck to meet up with my roommate and a few other people. We sit at their table and I need a beer. I turn around and see the waitress and for some reason the first things that comes out of my mouth is "hey toots". I didnt even know toots was in my available vocabulary storehouse. She gave me a look of disdain and I instantly promised her an 80% tip. After a few beers we move to the bar and I realize the DJ is playing crappy music and this upsets me. I tell him to change it and he doesn't even acknowledge my presence. this upsets me even more...and i am somewhat drunk. So i tell him he is a failure at life, probably will be single for a very long time, and that its not cool to put your headphones over one ear. My friends decide its a good time to leave. I probably won't be going back to that bar anytime soon.