Babies + GWB = awww

The range of emotions in this photo is stunningly beautiful.

He will soon be gone, and with him, his antics. Enjoy them while we can.

Democratic Primary, the game

(click on the pic)

Finally, someone has figured out a way for us to get involved in the race. It took long enough, but the New York Post stepped up to the challenge and now college students around the country can eagerly click their candidate to victory. (note: while Obama's character can make use of long limbs, Hillary's cannot yet throw around her sizable 'trunk junk')

"I met a real Ho!"

It recently came to my attention that my sister made the acquaintance of a "real ho." The story goes as follows:

My sister, Rolly May, was walking along the streets of our campus when suddenly a scantily clad woman emerged from the bushes. Startled but ever helpful, Rolly inquires if the woman needs any help.
"Am I on a campus?" says the woman, to which my sister confirms that yes, the woman is in fact on a college campus. Rolly asked if the woman needed directions and the woman said "yeah I'm going to a club." When pressed for further details regarding what club she sought, the woman broke down and made a confession:
"It's my first night working the streets. My pimp has been calling and yelling at me but I just can't find M street. Do you all know where M street is?!" Taking a cue from the story of the Good Samaritan found within the Bible, Rolly points the ho in the direction of M street and escorts her for a short while before eventually parting ways. While they were walking to M street, the ho spotted several other scantily clad women, GW undergraduate freshmen, and yelled loudly "are they hos to? They workin the street too?"

This story will not be relayed in any fashion to my mother.

Obama's A Fitch Bitch!

Oh Miss Mount Vernon, fear not! I too have a paper due today at 6pm but, like a moth to a flame, I couldn't stay away from the Pennsylvania election night coverage. I swear I was thinking about my paper the whole time (obvi) so, riddled with guilt and stress, I didn't enjoy it. But I did catch this wonderful gem during his concession speech:



This is just too good! The fitch bitches, err I mean-- these bro-dudes, apparently love Barry. But why? Prepare to crap your progressive American Apparel underoos, courtesy of that bitch Jezebel: "From blind gayvotion to NAFTA to centimillionaire executive pay packages to endemic racism to bland pointless predictability Abercrombie is the epitome of everything about the America that is not "ready" for a black Muslimy Marxist freethinking president." I dunno, maybe it's some kind of fucked up product placement? Volunteer service hour requirements? Whatever it is, it's a turnoff. I'm voting Nader. Well, ok, I'm voting Nader if Ron Paul can't wrap up the GOP nom.

But seriously, who wears that crap? Juuuuust kidding... but seriously.

I don't have senioritis

I am writing a paper thats due at 11 am. It is 9:30...and I've just begun. Hooray for senior year. Cheers to keeping up with those academics during this time of heavy alcohol consumption and intense procrastination.

News roundup (since I have nothing better to do):

"But I'm not a screamer"

Native grizzly bears are extinct in California....but apparently can kill you.

DC is not the drunkest, but we do the most drugs.

procrastination nation

OMG! In my effort to ignore my "real" work, aka papers-papers-papers-&-more-papers, I've also neglected my blogging. SHAME! SHAME ON ME! Fuck, it's downright BARBARIC! (read: Big Byrd style)--(warning: poli sci joke). Fortunately, I was recently reminded of this hot disaster we created and my absence from it. Doubly fortunate, I am at this moment prepping to go out and D.A.N.C.E. Woo hoo!

Hot tip of the night: mix Crystal Light to some Gilbey's v-spot, add Powerade and you've got a delicious drAnk. (courtesy of TeamDeadbeat)

OK, this was quick post, BUTTT, I've tOts got something to say about the Ingrid Michaelson concert I saw last night... girl is funny... and eats babies for nutrition and energy.

Peace out, I wish you all lots of ass tonight. Happy 4.20!

I am a Cat Woman, hear me Meow

I will admit it.... I enjoy cats. A lot. It seems as though every time I am home I convince my mom that we *need* another cat (because I want to play with one) so I select a cat or two, play with it for the week I am home and then say "thanks, Mom, have fun with these cats for the next 15 years." Luckily, many of my friends also enjoy cats. Rio and I are known to cherish a good LOL Cat, for instance.

Today, my mom sent me this video which is probably the funniest thing I have ever seen. I have a soft spot for engineers, so it capitalizes on many of my interests.

Hilarious

In Honor of Pope Benny's Visit...

Yesterday at Miss Mount Vernon's place of work we discusses extensively what the pope would eat if he came to our restaurant. I decided on the Mediterranean Tilapia.

Pink is the new Best

Pink, the itsy piggy above, first stormed into my life via my inbox a few months ago. He's looks squishy soft and radiant sleeping with his sibling pups. And so in keeping with my often thought about and seldom acted upon desire to do something selfless daily, I present to all, little PINK.

He's flawless, no? Almost too good. I like to imagine him with small fuzzy wings, like a lilliputian piggy cherub or something.

God, he's great.

Also, a big congratulations to our inimitable Flash. Being selected as the one student speaker to represent the student body at GW's commencement on the National Mall is something to be celebrated. I can't think of a better celebration than a Pink-filled summer. Please God I hope this happens. Viva Pink!

Your Majesty, Commencment Speaker...

CONGRATS!

To Flash for winning the coveted title of Commencement Speaker for 2008...in front of 22,000 people, on the National Mall, next to the President of the NAACP.......no reason to be nervous or anything.

Seniors Year.

I have been to one hour of class this week. One. Sixty minutes.

Today I fully planned on going to wine class. This class is called "the history of wine." When reading the bulletin for good classes to take, myself (and every other second semester senior) seemed to have read that title as the history of WINE. Unfortunately, our teacher actually meant it to be read as "the HISTORY of wine." This class fucking sucks.
I sat in Kogan for about twenty minutes before class and fully decided that class was a waste of my time. In true senior spirit, I grabbed a Nalgene of Cape Codder, a folding chair and proceeded to sit in the sun for 5 hours drinking before work. This was great. Except at around 8pm I realized that I could literally feel the heat emanating off my sunburn through my work shirt. Fuck. I am a lobster.

And, as it turns out, I am remarkably red. A la farmers tan. It's bad news... I hurt. I dont really even know what I'm writing about now because I'm pretty drunk. Did you know that apparently you should NOT drink when the last thing you ate was an Ellio's frozen cheese pizza slice nine hours before? Yeah, it's true. Put it in your back pocket.

I'm going to bed, I have to try our for commencement speaker tomorrow. HAHA that is true.

Charlton Heston's Gun Taken From His Cold, Dead Hands

The Onion broke this story a couple days ago and I'm surprised to say it hasn't received much media attention.

It will be interesting to watch how the National Rifle Association moves forward from this. Heston was their most high profile gun rights advocate and to see him capitulate to the anti-gun lobby is surely damaging to the cause. He just didn't care enough. Whatever. Let the damn, dirty apes come. We'll fend them off with spoons. Thanks, Charlton. That'll be juuuust great.

Decision '08

No, this post is not about the '08 election. It is about the MOST important decision you could ever make.

If you could listen to one song for the rest of your life, which would it be?

Jessica Simpson's "A Public Affair"

or

Paris Hilton's "The Stars Are Blind"

Make the most important decision of your life.

The Perils of Tuesdays

In our humble corner of the earth, Tuesday nights are a respite from the monotony of daily, hum drum [comparatively] sober life. It is the night that all those who are 21 and above flock to the one place on earth untainted by freshmen girls wasted off 3 Smirknoff Ices who are "omggg sooo drunkkk omgggg maybe if I dance on a table I'll sober up." You know the type. Anyway, so all of us second semester seniors flock to the Mecca of trashy bars: FicMaddens.

Last night, Rio and Ms. Mount Vernon and myself decided to shake up the routine by pregaming dollar drink night (which, for the sake of clarity, begins at.... 7pm). Three pitchers of beer later, the night had begun. FicMaddens was packed! I was sucking down Tom Collins' like they were water! They are just a dollar, WHATEVER! I always make a crucial mistake at FicMaddens which is to convince myself that, to get my money's worth, sipping is unacceptable. Only chugging will suffice. So needless to say, six Tom Collins later, I was pretty fucked up.

I want to tell you about my on-again-off-again boyfriend. His name is Randy McRandomson and he truly is a magnificent man. He is full of mystery... where is he from? What name is he going by today? Does he have diseases? Randy loves to make me guess... it adds to the excitement of our admittedly very physically based relationship.

So here I am, in a Tom Collins haze, when I see him dancing at the front bar at FicMaddens. It's Randy!!! My dear boyfriend Randy McRandomson. I had missed him so much. Randy and I begin to talk-- today he is taking the form of an art student from Silver Spring (I know, I know.... I was drunk). The pain of our long separation was truly too much to bear and Randy whispered those sweet words into my ears, those words that my loins had ached to hear for so long:

"Want to go upstairs and make out?"

Oh Lord! Yes Randy! Nothing could be sweeter. Racing and stumbling up the stairs we finally find a haven for our love.... a plastic folding table in the corner of the upstairs bar. The ambient lighting setting the mood, Randy's sweet and magical lips graced mine and we were locked in a frantic embrace. Now, for the record, I was aware that I was making out with some random guy in the upstairs of a trashy bar. I was also very aware that EVERYONE ON THE PLANET was watching us, maybe making a comment or two. Obviously, I thought, they were jealous.

This delicious session continued for half an hour or perhaps more (time truly does fly when Randy's hands caress your body) until I feel iPhone sensually vibrate against my inner thigh. iPhone really is my best friend... he looks out for me when I may be inching closer to getting raped and he also tells me what the weather is like. Truly a versatile friend. iPhone told me that rio was now searching for me and this alerted me to the fact that, holy fuck, whatever I am doing now is gross. Really gross. He is from SILVER SPRING MARYLAND.

Escaping underneath the guise of "having to pee so bad" I flew down the stairs where I met up with rio and Ms. Mount Vernon. They were going to another bar and I assured them I would meet up with them. I continued down the stairs where I saw my friend Gina standing with two friends. Thank the Lord, I thought, that I've escaped judgmental eyes from upstairs. I approached Gina and her friends who, within seconds, said the following:

"Wow, we just watched you make out with some guy upstairs for half an hour. Way to go!!!!" Shit. Feeling slightly retarded, I tried to salvage my pride but failed miserably in the process. Grabbing my eggplant colored coat from the coat check, I stumbled outside where I walked home alone. I had regressed. I know Randy is bad for me... he does not help my self esteem no matter how many times he says really romantic things like "you're just so hot, I wanna put it in you." I have to cut off this relationship once and for all. No more Randy!!

....We'll see how it goes next week, I suppose.

3, 2, 1, Liftoff!

Finally, haphazardly, and with senior theses deadlines looming like thick, dark clouds over our heads we've arrived at our temporary blogspot home! Think of it as a furnished summer sublet you can frolic in for a while as you wait for your new house to... waaait. Ok, maybe it's more like we lost the keys to our "blog" house. But this metaphor is neither here nor there. Damn. This metaphor fucking sucks... 'Point is:

WE'RE LIVE AND BLOGGING!!!

I guess I got a bit too eager so I've slapped up this first post without much thought. That's all good though--I don't expect an outpouring of wisdom in the following weeks. We'll be feeling out the blog and topics we enjoy for a time at the beginning as we find our voice. Fingers crossed: offensive and durrrty material will become posting staples.

Food for thought: the 2nd bottle of Charles Shaw cabernet-sauvignon tastes like rainbows.

Have a wonderful Monday night!