Wednesday, January 30, 2008
SPOKANICITY NEWS RELEASE
Paul Freeman, Minister of Cheetos Puffs
Tooley, Vicar of Cheetos Crunchy
Standing in Solidarity
In the times where socioeconomic injustices prevail throughout the world, we the men of Spokanicity issue the following statement.
Innocent lives have been psychologically and, at times, physically scarred by the actions of a few. We stand in solidarity. For all those who have been exposed to ridiculous and awful depictions of what is known as "lolcatz," we stand in solidarity.
Our moments of today reflect the silence of the cats who have been used inhumanely to achieve an end of what some call humor. However, this is not true humor. Innocent minds are lost to the decay of intellect caused by these images.
We refuse to sit idly by as this offense to the world continues in the memory of those who are unable to express their own voices.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Which explains why when I needed moisturizer for my hands Steve was like, "Um, no, I don't have any."
And now he does.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
The first time I ever got drunk was October of freshman year. I mean, I'd definitely tried alcohol before, but I'd seen so many people do so much stupid shit while drunk that I tended to stay away. Well, enter the college party scene and peer pressure and I was a goner. The culprit that time? Good ol' Mike's Hard Lemonade.
Well, not entirely. Greg served me my first gin & tonic in his room in CM (I still think they're gross), and THEN I drank two Mike's(es?), and THEN I was drunk as a skunk. Becca was there too, even though she claims not to remember disappearing with the backpack full of hard lemonades. I proceeded to drink more at a house party somewhere on Sinto, have my first of many embarrassing, regrettable drunk makeouts, and then pass out in my room in Crimont in front of MTV. I remember thinking that Dave Matthews' "Gravedigger" video was craaaazy. Also, my roommate didn't come home that night - she'd passed out at 1003 Mission. Needless to say, this was the beginning of many good times.
Fast forward to the summer of 2004. First college summer, first time living "on my own" not in the dorms. Becca and I had some fun times in our adjacent basement rooms. I believe that Becca introduced me to Bacardi 151 that summer, a drink that I never, ever developed a taste for. I'm going to defer to Becca for stories from her 151 days, since I'd never be able to do them justice. I do remember the night that I got kicked out of the Big Easy (a blog post for another day), Becca, Teresa, and I took some classic drunk-girl pictures with the bottle of 151. I wonder where those pictures are now.
That summer was also when tequila and I stopped being friends. I never really liked the taste of tequila, but I got custody of a bottle after the Second Annual Chelan Trip that summer. One weekend, Scott was in town, and I thought it'd be a good idea to take some tequila shots by myself before going to a "crew party" (turned out to be like, four crew girls watching movies) with him and Becca and Ben. Mistaaaake. It was fun wandering drunkenly through Mission Park, barefoot, but the next day I had one of the worst hangovers I have ever experienced to date. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had to lie motionless for hours - any movement would cause head pounding and severe nausea. I've only had tequila three or four times since then, only once or maaaaaybe twice in shot form, and I still hate margaritas. Ugh. Just thinking of the taste gives me shivers.
The third alcohol experience of that summer has to do with the Nevada wonder-drink that we all know and hate: ethanol. Let me make clear that I think it is disgusting to drink the stuff. Why not drink nail polish remover, huh? Or turpentine? Or make a hobo cocktail of milk and gasoline? Yeah. Gross gross gross. But at the end of summer, some of the boys roadtripped back to Spokane with a huge jug of the stuff. They landed at Piraeus on the evening before we were allowed to move back into the dorms, and so the glass behemoth full of ethanol lived on my microwave for a night. One whiff of the stuff and I was drunk, I swear. Yuck. I will be grateful for the image that it gave me, though, of waking up to Swift sleeping on my floor and cuddling with my stuffed bunny the next morning. I'm sure he doesn't remember that, but I do.
I hate the taste of Mike's Hard Lemonade now. And tequila, of course. What kind of booze did YOU all imbibe in our early college days? What kind of booze can you no longer drink? Post, post, post. I demand it.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
My favorite SBTB character was Slater. Hell, I won't lie, I still have the hots for Mario Lopez.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Here's an excerpt of something that I thought was amusingly familiar. Maybe we should bring back the chamberpot for drunks?
Wet Wake-Up Call
"My commute to work is an hour long. So when my company had a holiday party, a coworker offered to let me stay the night at her house, which is near the office. Since I didn't have to drive, I took advantage of the open bar. When we got back to her place, I passed out. I woke up the next morning and felt a big wet spot underneath me. I was so drunk, I had peed the bed...and I had to tell my coworker. Later that day, the entire office knew about my accident." - Kristen, 33
Tooley (12:36:28 PM): OR, would you rather have a short fatty penis so that if you got a boner your chest would bulge like you'd been stung by bees?
Later that week, with the help of Spokanicity, I decided to make an entry in the Urban Dictionary.
Obamagasm: The peak of excitement that occurs when Obama does anything good, characterized by strong feelings of pleasure, usually accompanied by celebration. Occassionally results in college students blowing their loads in their trousers at the sight of Obama winning a campaign.
After learning of the the 2008 Iowa Caucus results, Steve obamagasmed.
Monday, January 14, 2008
In a study that could make marketing managers and salespeople rub their hands with glee, scientists have used brain-scanning technology to shed new light on the old adage, "You get what you pay for."
Researchers from the California Institute of Technology and Stanford's business school have directly seen that the sensation of pleasantness that people experience when tasting wine is linked directly to its price. And that's true even when, unbeknownst to the test subjects, it's exactly the same Cabernet Sauvignon with a dramatically different price tag.
So if Casarsa was $90, would it taste better? I mean, it IS the best wine out there that no one knows about--watch out Carlo Rossi!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
(1:07:28 PM) Rachel: beer pong?
(1:07:50 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: |.
(1:07:57 PM) Tooley: . |
(1:08:08 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: . |
(1:08:10 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: D'oh
(1:08:15 PM) Tooley: I win!
(1:08:23 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: gg
(1:08:31 PM) Tooley: rematch?
(1:08:35 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: You're on
(1:08:40 PM) Tooley: | .
(1:09:01 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: . |
(1:09:06 PM) Tooley: | .
(1:09:22 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: . |
(1:09:27 PM) Tooley: . |
(1:09:29 PM) Tooley: dammit
(1:09:31 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: Yes!
(1:09:33 PM) Tooley: best 2 of 3?
(1:09:36 PM) Rachel: good god
(1:09:42 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: For all the marbles
(1:09:47 PM) Tooley: ok, your serve
(1:09:55 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: | .
(1:10:00 PM) Tooley: . |
(1:10:07 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: | .
(1:10:13 PM) Tooley: . |
(1:10:22 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: This is getting intense
(1:10:26 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: | .
(1:10:32 PM) Tooley: . |
(1:10:45 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: .|
(1:10:51 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: Damn!
(1:10:58 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: Couldn't get there in time
(1:11:02 PM) Tooley: and that is why you are the protoge
(1:11:09 PM) Rachel: protege
(1:11:10 PM) Tooley: goog game my friend
(1:11:10 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: Fair enough
(1:11:14 PM) Tooley: good
(1:11:16 PM) Yancy Fry Jr: Goog game
(1:11:22 PM) Rachel: hahaha
British twins who had been separated at birth learned they were related only after they had become husband and wife, a senior British lawmaker said. The marriage has been annulled
I can't imagine falling in love with someone and marrying them, only to find out that I was their twin separated at birth. I mean, we've all heard stories of identical twins being separated and finding each other (Sister Sister anyone?), but this would be so much worse.
I've often feared that I'd find someone and have them turn out to be a blood relative that I wasn't aware of - my mom's family is very large and I haven't seen most of them in years, and my Grandma's blood family.... who knows. I think I'll make Matt show me his family tree sometime soon just to be on the safe side.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
So a little bit ago, I'm sitting at my computer naked, as I am wont to do for anywhere from five minutes to several hours after I take a shower. That's not really important to the story, but I just wanted you to know that I was here rockin' out in a blue towel (around my body) and a green towel (around my hair).
My roommate knocks softly on my door. "Rooooommate?" she calls.
(Sidenote: Most of you probably know this, but my same-named domestic parter and I often just call each other "Roommate." That's how she's listed in my phone, etc. It's just easier that way.)
"I got something for you at home!" she says, holding up a black unmarked bag. I don't like where this is going. It kind of reminds me of my run-in with Retarded Steve at the STA Plaza, a story which I might re-tell on here sometime, although I've told it so many times I'm a little sick of it by now. But anyway. I take the bag from her and reach in and feel around for a few seconds, trying to figure out what it is before I pull the object out.
It's a long rectangular box. Inside I can feel that there is something long and cylindrical.
Okay, so let's not draw this out any longer. Turns out that the 11-inch vibrator was purchased by a drunk friend on New Year's Eve and given to Roommate as a gift; no amount of protesting could dissuade this drunk gift-giver. So now we're stuck with this rather expensive ($40) toy which neither of us needs (if you know what I mean... and I think you do), not to mention the fact that it's unnecessarily huge. What are we supposed to do with it? Selling it seems a little skeevy. Everyone we know either a.) has a boyfriend with whom she is having regular sex, or b.) has a little friend of her own. We're open to suggestions.
And it continued:
Becca (2:30:48 PM): Rachel doesn't like flacid things
Rachel (2:30:55 PM): that's right, i don't
Becca (2:31:05 PM): You can't bone with flacid things
Rachel (2:31:14 PM): come on now, i'm not all about boning
Rachel (2:31:16 PM): i have other aspects
Becca (2:31:33 PM): Sandwiches?
Tooley (2:31:55 PM): hot dogs
Tooley (2:32:02 PM): corn dogs
Tooley (2:32:11 PM): popsicles
Becca (2:32:23 PM): What are... things on sticks!
Tooley (2:32:25 PM): meat-on-a-stick
Rachel (2:32:30 PM): you know how many foods are shaped like dicks? the best kinds.
Becca (2:32:37 PM): It's true
Becca (2:32:45 PM): Look at a water bottle
Tooley (2:32:50 PM): that doesn't make sense
Becca (2:32:52 PM): corn on the cob?
Rachel (2:32:59 PM): water bottles are shaped like dicks?
Becca (2:33:04 PM): Sort of
Rachel (2:33:04 PM): what kind of dick are YOU talking about?
Becca (2:33:12 PM): Look at my aquafina bottle!
Tooley (2:33:22 PM): you asked "how many kinds" and answered a question asking "what kinds"
Rachel (2:33:32 PM): goddamit
Rachel (2:33:36 PM): i was trying to quote superbad
Tooley (2:33:36 PM): gatorade
Tooley (2:33:45 PM): trying
Tooley (2:33:47 PM): and failing
Rachel (2:33:56 PM): i'd say the aquafina bottle is pointy at the top and bulbous at the bottom
Rachel (2:33:59 PM): not my kinda dick
Becca (2:34:11 PM): Um... well, it idefinitely has a shart and a head
Rachel (2:34:21 PM): shart?
Becca (2:34:33 PM): And if you look at it right you can only see two of the little feet thingies, and they look kinda like balls
Becca (2:34:35 PM): Shaft
Becca (2:34:38 PM): sorry
Tooley (2:35:24 PM): shit fart
Becca (2:35:38 PM): I strongly dislike you both
Rachel (2:37:07 PM): by the way, you spelled "flaccid" wrong.
Becca (2:37:13 PM): DAMMIT
Rachel (3:13:56 PM): becca! i get it now!
Rachel (3:14:05 PM): if you take the entire lid off the aquafina bottle
Rachel (3:14:10 PM): it DOES look like a wang.
Becca (3:15:29 PM): YES
Becca (3:15:32 PM): THANKYOU
Becca (3:15:36 PM): I told you so
Rachel (3:26:01 PM): i'm not sure why it would be thinner in the middle though
Rachel (3:26:05 PM): maybe that's my hand around it
Rachel (3:26:06 PM): ZING!
Becca (3:26:29 PM): Hahaha
I know class is boring - even really boring at times - but really? Did you have to bust out the FULL manicure set? I mean, filing your nails is one thing. But clipping, filing, doing whatever to your cuticles, and full on painting is totally another. That shit STINKS, and those of us that have to sit behind you for three hours will rage if we have to smell that every week. And you could've at least picked up your nail clippings - that's disgusting. If you can afford grad school and a full manicure set, then you can afford the $5 to get it done in a salon before class. So do it.
P.S. Your nails looked like crap.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
I've been getting a string of text messages from what I presume is a teenage girl at a high school in the Portland Metropolitan Area.
10:08 PT ET - "Sup! I got ur from laurel!"
Got my what from who? WHO ARE YOU?!
10:39 PT ET - This is Nina. Laurel have me ur #. Is that ok?
Okay? I don't even know a Laurel. Wait, let me check Facebook. Nope, the only Laurel is Canadian and I doubt you're the Nina from GU that I barely knew.
10:41 PT ET - Laurel [some last name that I wont divulge out of respect, though I will say her last name is similar to an English heavy metal rock star's], Duh!
Duh? I thought I told you I have no idea who that is, and yet you're still wasting my precious texts that I never use! How dare you!
10:49 PT ET - U go 2 [name of high school...no wait, MIDDLE SCHOOL in the Portland Area], rite? And u no hoo i am rite?
Who taught you how to spell? No, again, I have no idea who you are and I didn't even know your school was a middle school until I looked it up just now. I thought you were a stupid high schooler!
10:53 PM ET - Wut? Ur name is Kassie, rite?
Man I can't even type how you text. I have this urge to write in English, but for the sake of being fair to what you actually sent me, I must transcribe your attempts at communication onto this blog.
Oh, and No! I am a guy who graduated COLLEGE recently so you definitely have the wrong number.
Funny, I haven't received a text back since I told her something along those lines--no, wait,
11:15 PM ET - Ok. I guess i do have the rong #. Sry 2 bug u. Buhbye!
...good grief. Is this world going crazy?
I guess I have my answer.
We all assume that Gonzaga grads seem more likely to get hitched soon after graduation than, say, EWU graduates. I don't know if that's actually true, but I'm willing to bet that there are more "committed relationships" (excuse my quotation marks, I'm a jaded single girl now) coming out of GU than a lot of the big public universities around here. My 19-year-old cousin recently informed me that 80% of people find their mate in college. Now, that could be a bogus statistic, and my generalizations about GU-vs.-public-U.s could be way off, but still. It is a little disturbing to see the wedding album of childhood friends or the kid who sat in front of you in Western Civ, isn't it? I think so.
So I did a little number crunching. Bear in mind that a.) I'm at work and therefore distracted, b.) I'm terrible at math and numbers and didn't pay attention in stats, so the results of this research are probably skewed. But I took a look at my Facebook friends, specifically those who graduated in 2007 or who I considered part of my class, and found that:
50 out of 124 are single (40.3%)
38 are in a relationship (30.6%)
5 are engaged (4%)
7 are married (5.6%)
24 provided me with no data, but are probably single or casually dating (19.4%)
Okay, this seems fairly normal for a set of 22- or 23-year-old college grads, right? I think so. I've had friends complain to me when they were single (moreso when I was in a relationship) that "everyone is part of a couple," but my little sample set proves that's not true, which I already assumed. I think that sometimes the nature of our peers' relationships (dare I say codependent and a little overboard at times?) make it seem like that's the trend.
Other conclusions: I have a lot of married friends. And I can think of at least three more offhand who are married but didn't fit the 2007-graduate criteria. I would've assumed that engagements would be more common than marriages at this point, but apparently not. Maybe that means that there was an initial wave of getting married right after college and us unmarried types can rest easy knowing that there won't be any more wedding albums cropping up for awhile? Also, there are a surprisingly lot of people whose relationship status I'm unaware of, but I guess that's because I have a lot Facebook friends who are more like distant acquaintances than actual friends. Oh well. Like I said, I don't think they'd change the percentages too much anyway.
In conclusion, I want my friends to get married so I can go to a party with all my old friends and get drunk. But I also want us to stay young for a little while longer, okay?
A Hayden, Idaho man who believed he bore the "mark of the beast" used a circular saw to amputate one of his hands, cooked it in a microwave and summoned authorities, Kootenai County sheriff's deputies say.
Also, how did Indiana Bones and the Temple of Poon NOT win best team name? I thought we had that one in the bag... Touch Me Where I Pee was vulgar, but clearly lacked the cleverness that our team name contained. And I wanted that pitcher of beer, too...