Wednesday, June 2, 2010

What Rocks? Everything.

Imagine a website that was genius enough to combine the social networking aspect of sites such as facebook and twitter with the substantial/intellectual components of newspapers, the huffington post, and Jimmy Neutron's brain. 

Sound pretty cool, right?

If you disagree with my rhetorical question/answer, you are full of shit. Of course it's pretty cool 

Hoyas up in this hizzle, a new website is coming that will rock yo body about a million times harder than that mediocre Justin Timberlake song. And no wardrobe malfunctions here. This is gonna be the real dealio. 

After takes Georgetown by storm, you'll never be bored in class again. For now, check out our beta site, currently in the embryonic stage (though this is a very strong embryo). Much more to come soon. When we do our officially awesome intense launch, you'll hear about it. 

For now, i'll treat you to a post I did for the site. From now on, you will have to visit But since you've been good, here's some anti-coal presented by the Jewish Santa Chhlaus.

 Below is a story about college. half fiction, half true. I hate being a cocky idiot, but I really think this is one of my finest works to date. 



Don’t worry, it wasn’t one of those really inconsiderate, self-indulgent groans. Those are just obnoxious.
It’s early friday morning. Or late thursday night. I’m not really sure which one. College time is funny like that. Day is night, night is day, and everything else in between is just another Kid Cudi lyric.
I usually don’t get hangovers, but I guess I forgot to tell that to the vodka from last night. I felt miserable as I rolled around in bed, searching for that one soft corner of my pillow. My head was pounding harder than that overvalued British currency.
Well, maybe it’s not overvalued. I actually don’t know. But i’m just gonna pretend like I do. Georgetown students are supposed to pretend to know that kind of stuff, right?
Last night wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Being that it was a Thursday, I don’t even have to tell you where I went–you already know the drill. The upstairs was packed (big surprise), and I was again unable to get with my girl (bigger surprise).  We aren’t really together. She only really likes me when our friend Captain Morgan is there to facilitate interaction. When he’s not there, it’s more awkward than Michael Cera’s character in every single movie that he’s in.
After Thirds ruined “Bad Romance” for the 5th consecutive week, my three buddies from my freshman floor (D3 represent) and I skated back to my village B. Dissatisfied with our inability to hook up with anyone, we proceeded to take some “let’s drink because what else are we going to do” shots. Bad choice.
It’s 8am. I’m not really sure why I am awake, but the collegeness in my blood just tells me to go with it. Moseying into the common room, I stumble upon my one roommate who actually wakes up early (everyone has one). He’s got the full early morning setup going on– rocking the no-pulp tropicana and scrambled eggs wedged in between the natty light can-laden coffee table, his eyes fully absorbed on the FOX newscaster on the TV in front of him. He’s so focused on the news, he left some egg dangling.
The news anchor is talking about the healthcare bill, facts and figures comin out her mouth like blah blah blah. Ryan, playing the role of “I go to Georgetown so I have an established opinion about everything” starts ranting against everything the newscaster is saying.
“She’s so stupid. Obama has no idea what he’s doing…does Congress understand anything about fiscal responsibility? Because it seems like they don’t. Geez.”
Being the polemical political atheist that I am, I decide to stir up the pot a little bit. We end up having a rather heated discussion about the definition of the common good. According to Ryan, concern for the well-being of others has nothing to do with the common good. Then again, he is a republican.
Just playing. His argument was actually much, much better than mine–he’s a really intelligent kid. If it weren’t for my frequent references to Albus Dumbledore, he would have blown me out of the water. stupefy style.
We would have kept going, but Ryan had to go to his 8:50 Chinese class. Apparently, it controls his life. Apparently, China controls all of our lives.
My only class for the day was at 12:15, so I had a lot of time to kill. All of my lazy ass MSB friends didn’t have class all day and thus wouldn’t wake up until hangover-is-gone o’clock, so I decided to be productive and get some work done.
I live about 90 seconds away from Lau, but there’s no way I could have gone there–that place is more depressing than that Will Smith movie Seven Pounds. Instead, I decide to take the trek to Leavey. Uncommon Grounds to be exact. I don’t really like the Cult Of  Rampant Pompousness too much due to their air of self entitlement, but you there’s no denying the outstanding study environment that they produce. Plus, the playlists at those places often produce some real gems.
I snag a table, order a bagel, and get to work. Well, not right away. First, I had to figure where to put the other half of my bagel while I was spreading cream cheese, being that the Corp gives you plates that are the size of an I-pod shuffle. Real convenient. After that adventure, I got to work. That is, after I checked facebook, my e-mail, ESPN, facebook, sporcle, facebook, the vox populi, and facebook.
I still managed to get a decent amount of work done, which could probably be accredited to UG’s decision to play the Backstreet Boy’s “Millenium” album. They may not be able to produce normal sized plates, but at least  they know what makes me larger than life.
12:05. Time to head to the Great White Gravenor for American Civilization II. American Studies is clearly the best major on campus. Don’t even try to argue. You’ll lose.
On the walk there, I ran into three people of note.
-My good friend Bobby. After recapping our nights, we decided we were going to play basketball later and “tear shit up”
-My Professor from last semester. We exchanged a rather formal “this is awkward seeing you outside of class” greeting
-A girl I drunkenly hooked up with last year. After pretending to be friendly for a brief period of time, we have now reverted to acting like we don’t know each other.
Fridays are crucial for my well-being, as class is only 50 minutes. That extra 25 minutes on monday/wednesday is just a killer. It’s the difference between drool and wow, thats actually cool.
The thirty some-odd person class spent the entire period engaged in a rather (blake) lively discussion about regional dialects and how they promote the development a distinct of cultural character within that specific region. The inner nerd inside me was going haywire- everyone in the class was putting in their two cents. The shy girl from Oklahoma, the pompous idiot from Massachussetts, the jersey b-frat bro, the proud Nebraskan, and the overly intellectual Manhattenite were going back and forth more furiously than the Man in the Yellow Hat’s monkey
…Oh wait. That’s CURIOUS George. My bad.
Jokes aside, the class more or less defined what I love about Georgetown. Regional differences are relative. They mean both everything and nothing at the same time. All the time.
Wow. This is longer than that paper you stayed up all night writing two days ago. You obsessed over it more than you needed to, you were going to get an A- no matter what. Because you’re a Georgetown student and have things to do, I’ll hit you up with the abridged edition
1:15: Leo’s with two of my friends and a mutual friend of theirs who I never met before. They were serving that awful falafel wrap, so I went for the make your own pasta. It always looks better than it tastes, but it’s still my go-to.  Sweat-pant-laden football players were sitting at the table next to us, which prompted the discussion of how much money the school could save if they discontinued the football program. My heart says play on, playa, but my metaphorical Georgetown wallet said the rational thing to do is stop that booty (here we come).
Fraternity meeting/general loafing around with friends. Nobody realizes it, but Georgetown is secretly run by fraternities. We’re in every student organization there is and them some. And as for parties? Pur-leasse.
Basketball with Bobby. We also played with a bunch of other random kids I know- my OA, a kid I met searching for parties the first week of school freshman year, a dudester from my high school, a surly guy I say “whats up” to on the basketball court but nowhere else because Georgetown has strange social rules, and a kid who once dated one of my best girl friends. Georgetown is awesome like that. Like it or not, you are inevitably connected with everyone.
Basketball makes me hungry. Shower is followed by Chipotle with the roommates, followed by Towne. We talk about the plans for the night. Ryan has heard of this party, Chad has heard of that party, and Charlie wants to go to Eppe.
Start the pregame with some beer pong. The girls haven’t arrived, so we decide to be all cool and play beer pong with our shirts off (though we keep on our backwards hats). Don’t want to get those button down vineyard vines semi-casuals all dirty.
Four and a half beers in, we start to feel it even though none of us are willing to admit it. Girls arrive. We switch over to the handle of Burnetts and play Kings. The girls just laugh the entire time and talk about eye-liner. We’re a very incestual group- half of us have hooked up with each other, but nothing serious has really transpired. Other than Chad and Courtney, that is. A year into their relationship and they’re tighter than the skinny jeans that the kids who smoke outside Lau wear.
All of us are hammered. We venture off to one of our friend’s parties in a Henle. My friend in the Saxatones is there. I haven’t seen him in about two months, so we start chatting it up. We had planned to make mashups together, so we decided to talk some music theory while pumping everyone beer. I love pumping kegs. It makes you feel powerful. Plus, its a surefire way to flirt with girls. Though the “guy at the keg” hardly ever gets past the flirting stage.
DoPs breaks up the party. It was registered, but being that Georgetown determinedly hates fun sometimes, they end it anyway. We scatter to a “stoplight” party in Burlieth. Naturally, everyone is wearing colors that aren’t red yellow or green.
My girl starts texting me, clearly drunk. I fend her off. I realize that there is nothing significant about our relationship and although it is nice to hook up with someone sometimes, I was in one of those “I’m going to assert myself” drunk moods. I decided that I was going to look cut the ties. I decided I was going to look for someone who liked me for me, and not because I hang with Leonardo, or know that guy who played in Fargo. I decided to explain my entire situation to an acquaintance at the party. She asked me “how is life?” So I told her.
She then told me about her life. She told me of how she thought she was taking on too much extra-cirricularly, her problems with her ex boyfriend who still bothers her even though she’s not interested,  and how she feels like she is not living up to her parents expectations with a 3.2 GPA. An hour later, we went from being people who knew each other from Georgetown Radio meetings to decent friends. Come to think of it, I was starting to like her.
We exchanged numbers, and I bid her a “farewell, my good lady.” Eric Prydz’s “Call on Me” dance jam was bumping while I pushed my way through the freshman infested dancefloor, so I busted a few dance moves on the way out. She laughed.
I knew I was going to see her again. Georgetown has a funny way of taking care of that for you.
2:01 am: Crash back at the Village B with the seven other survivors of the original group. Chad and Courtney retired early, clearly playing that funky music in the Chad’s room. Everyone talks about drunk stuff- who’s texting who, the latest rumors about the cuddler, LOST, gossip girl, that idiot professor who should be fired, etc. Portland Trail Blazing is taking place in the bathroom.
2:59 am: 2 Pies of Pizza is delivered. Ranch dressing and all. It is devoured within 9 minutes
3:36 am: After losing a game of Fifa, I decide to hit the (hoya) sack-sa
Closing my eyes, I can’t help smiling. I smile because after nearly two years away from home, it suddenly hit me-Georgetown Rocks.
I smile because each day at school presents just enough monotony to create the unexpected. That clearly doesn’t make sense, but neither does this school. There is something special about this place.
We may not have wireless, that doesn’t stop us. We live life on our own ac-cords.
Every story is beautifully different. What Rocks your Hill-topsy turvy world?

REally fitting song of the day: 

time of our lives: Miley Cyrus 

I have no idea why this song is not insanely popular. It's awesome sauce in a bottle 


  1. this story is idyllic
    that's what popped in my head while reading it...